Opinion

By Ismail Bello Darazo 

Competence has become a problem in the Nigerian political system. It is quite unfortunate to witness how political office-holders are replaced by incompetent politicians, all in the guise of loyalty, who cover their records while in office without any consequences and who also have the ability to influence policymaking even after leaving office. However, the successor would remain dependent, and his deliberations would be centred on serving his Godfather’s interests rather than providing better representation and good governance to his people, should this happen. He would end up dancing to the puppet masters’ orders, godfathers.

Nevertheless, good representation can be achieved when the right people hold political office, but this practice has become a thing of the past, especially during the consensus period being postulated by the ruling APC. The best leadership that tremendously transformed Nigeria occurred in the past, and it was not achieved through consensus; rather, it enabled people to produce those who could wake up to their collective development.

You’ll see an outgoing governor vouching for someone who lacks the credibility and qualifications to deliver good governance, yet he imposes that candidate on his people despite having better options among the contestants.

One million dollar questions are: When handpicking the competent candidates for any elective positions, why consider less competent aspirants that would make it difficult for the party to win an election? Or why are better options ignored? Lo and behold! Is the handpicking in the interest of the generality? Or is competence no longer a priority, or who, after all, benefits from the selection? These questions, nevertheless, have kept ringing in my mind.

My submission to power shapers or moulders is: always do your best, and it will come back in an unexpected way. Give your people the leadership they deserve, not your personal interest. In my undergraduate days, I learnt from the qualities of a good leader that “Public interest supersedes personal interest.” Give good people the opportunity to change the narrative, not those who will drag us backwards.

Ismail Bello Darazo writes from Bauchi State via Ismailbello054@gmail.com.

By Abubakar I. Hamisu

There is a peculiar cruelty in self-inflicted wounds. The African Democratic Congress entered the 2026 political season as perhaps the most consequential opposition force Nigeria has seen in years. Buoyed by the defection of high-profile figures, widespread disillusionment with the ruling establishment, and a genuine public appetite for an alternative, the party had accumulated a reservoir of goodwill that most Nigerian political parties can only dream of. Then came the primaries.

What unfolded in Kaduna State on 25th May 2026 — and in the disputed conduct surrounding it — offers a sobering case study in how a political party can, in a single act of institutional recklessness, begin to squander the very things that made it credible. The ADC must reckon with this honestly, because the consequences of continued evasion are not merely uncomfortable — they are potentially catastrophic.

I.  The Weight of Expectations

To appreciate the gravity of what is at stake, one must first understand what the ADC represented to millions of Nigerians before these primaries. Here was a party that loudly and repeatedly distinguished itself from the culture of impunity that has long characterised Nigerian party politics. Its guidelines for the conduct of primaries — detailed, comprehensive, and impressively structured — reflected an institutional seriousness rarely seen. Its rhetoric promised transparency where there had been opacity, fairness where there had been manipulation, and internal democracy where there had been imposition. Nigerians, understandably exhausted by the status quo, believed it.

That belief is now under acute stress. And the stress was entirely preventable.

II.  What Went Wrong in Kaduna

The documented record is damning. A formal petition filed by Prof. Muhammad Sani Bello, a cleared governorship aspirant, alleges the deployment of armed thugs at voting centres, systematic compromise of accreditation procedures, multiple voting by the same individuals, deliberate delays that disenfranchised legitimate party members, and partisan conduct by electoral officials. These are not vague grievances — they are specific, numbered allegations supported by agents’ reports, documentary evidence, and video recordings.

More significantly, none of this was unforeseeable. Malam Nasir Ahmad El-Rufai, the Kaduna State ADC leader, wrote an urgent letter to the party’s national leadership five days before the election, specifically warning that the composition of the Electoral Committee was compromised, that it included individuals aligned with particular interests, and that proceeding on that basis would produce rejection, division, and avoidable conflict. He recommended a restructured committee with equal representation of all aspirants and a neutral chairman. The party leadership ignored him.

This is not a mere procedural lapse. It is an institutional failure of the highest order — the failure to heed a timely, well-reasoned, written warning from a senior leader. When the predicted crisis materialised, the party had no defence of ignorance to fall back on.

III.  The Structural Contradictions

Beyond the specific allegations, the post-primary period has revealed structural contradictions that compound the problem. The ADC’s own Guidelines, issued under document reference ADC/NWC/PE/001/2026, prescribe a five-member Governorship Election Appeal Committee. The committee actually constituted for Kaduna State has only three members. This means the very body now tasked with adjudicating the petition may itself be improperly constituted under the party’s rules — a fact that could render any decision it makes susceptible to further challenge.

The Guidelines also specify that the Appeal Committee chairman must be a legal practitioner. Whether this requirement was met is a matter that deserves scrutiny. And critically, the Electoral Committee, whose conduct is under challenge, and the Appeal Committee now hearing the challenge, were both appointed by the same National Working Committee whose judgment El-Rufai had already called into question. The structural independence that credible adjudication requires is, at minimum, compromised in appearance, even if not in fact.

These are not technicalities. In a party whose entire brand proposition rests on institutional integrity, such contradictions between prescribed standards and actual practice are deeply corrosive.

IV.  The Broader Danger: Goodwill Is Not Infinite

Political goodwill operates on a logic similar to financial credit — it takes considerable time and consistent behaviour to build, and can be destroyed with alarming speed. The ADC’s current wave of support is real, but it is also fragile, because it is largely aspirational. People have not yet seen the ADC govern; they have invested hope in what it promises to be. That makes its conduct of internal processes not less important but more so, because right now, how the party treats its own members and aspirants is the only tangible evidence voters have of how it will treat citizens if it wins power.

A party that deploys thugs at its own primaries, that ignores the warnings of its own leaders, that constitutes committees in violation of its own guidelines, and that then routes complaints through an Appeal Committee of questionable constitution — that party is not offering voters an alternative to what they already know. It is offering them a more eloquently packaged version of the same thing.

If this perception takes hold, and it is already forming, the consequences will be severe. The ADC’s most valuable assets — the defectors from other parties, the civil society goodwill, the international attention, the young voters mobilising for the first time — are all conditional on the party remaining what it claims to be. Many of these stakeholders have alternatives. They can return to where they came from, or simply disengage entirely. A mass exodus triggered by disillusionment is not a dramatic possibility; it is a rational response to evidence.

V.  The Kaduna Dimension

Kaduna State deserves particular emphasis because it is not simply one state among many. It is a bellwether. It carries the political profile of El-Rufai, whose national name recognition and credibility were among the factors that drew attention to the ADC in the first place. A perception that his influence was marginalised — or worse, that the primary was conducted in a manner designed to sideline his preferred candidates — goes far beyond Kaduna. It sends a signal nationally about who actually controls the ADC’s machinery and whose interests it truly serves.

Kaduna is also a fiercely contested political environment where the ADC had genuine prospects for 2027. Those prospects depend entirely on the party presenting a united, credible front. Disputed primaries, unresolved grievances, and aspirants who feel wronged do not produce united fronts. They produce parallel campaigns, strategic withdrawals of support, and the kind of internal sabotage that Nigerian political parties know all too well.

VI.  The Legal Quagmire

If the internal appeals process fails to deliver justice — either because the Appeal Committee is improperly constituted, or because its decisions lack credibility, or because aggrieved parties escalate externally — the ADC risks entering a web of litigation that will dominate its pre-election period. Court injunctions against the use of a candidate’s name, challenges to the validity of the primary itself, and INEC-related complications arising from disputed results could paralyse the party’s 2027 campaign machinery at the state and national level simultaneously. Nigerian political litigation moves slowly enough that cases filed today can remain unresolved on election day — and an unresolved cloud over a governorship candidate is a gift to opponents.

The ADC’s own Guidelines warn against this explicitly, noting that internal disputes that escalate to court will distract from the electoral mission. That warning is now prophetic.

VII.  What the ADC Must Do

The path forward is not mysterious. The Appeal Committee must act with courage and genuine independence, not as an instrument of ratification for a flawed outcome. If the evidence supports the allegations — and the documented record suggests it substantially does — the committee must say so, clearly and without equivocation. A fresh, properly supervised primary must be ordered.

Beyond Kaduna, the NWC must conduct an honest national audit of how primaries were conducted across other states, and address systemic lapses before they become the subject of additional petitions, legal challenges, and media narratives. The party’s monitoring teams, whose reports must exist, should be scrutinised to understand how these irregularities were either missed or not acted upon.

Most fundamentally, the party must demonstrate — through action, not rhetoric — that its institutional promises are real. Every grievance left unaddressed, every irregular committee decision left standing, every warning from senior leaders left unheeded, chips away at the one thing that no political party can afford to lose and easily regain: the presumption that it is different.

Conclusion

The ADC is at a crossroads that is more consequential than it may yet fully appreciate. The 2027 general elections represent a genuine opportunity to reshape Nigerian politics in ways that matter. But opportunities of this kind are not permanent. They expire. They expire when the public concludes that a party promising change is, in its internal conduct, indistinguishable from what came before.

The clumsy handling of the Kaduna gubernatorial primary is not merely an administrative embarrassment. It is a test of institutional character. Nigerians are watching — not just the outcome of the petition, but how the party responds to it. The ADC still has time to show that its guidelines are not decorative documents, that its leaders’ warnings are not ignored, and that its members’ votes are not disposable commodities. But that time is not unlimited, and it is running.

Sources & References

This essay is an independent commentary based on the following documents: ADC Guidelines for the Conduct of Primary Elections (April 2026, Ref: ADC/NWC/PE/001/2026); Petition by Prof. Muhammad Sani Bello against the conduct of the Kaduna State Governorship Primary Election (27th May 2026); Urgent Message to ADC National Leadership by Malam Nasir Ahmad El-Rufai (20th May 2026, ICPC Detention Day 94); ADC Process and Procedure Guide to Electoral Committee Members issued by the National Organising Secretary; State Electoral and Appeal Committees for Kaduna State issued by the ADC National Publicity Secretary.

By Bilyamin Abdulmumin, PhD

No one takes up the title of Dr for head like the famous praise singer Dauda Kahutu Rarara. His predicament began when a university under the aegis of the European-American University conferred on him an honorary doctorate. When the university was later discovered to be a mushroom, given how he had initially taken the title with glamour and pageantry, Rarara received ridicule for his life. 

Perhaps Rarara’s fanfare and grandeur in celebrating the honour stem from mockery over his lack of formal education; as a result, mockers say he doesn’t understand English. Rarara, floating the Dr title would have been a slap to the face of these mockers.

The award of an honorary doctorate was initially given to figures who excel in their field of endeavour and thus render landmark service to their community.  For example, honorary doctorates for Mamman Shata, Ibrahim Babangida, and Aliko Dangote. However, some universities are now believed to resort to awarding the honorary title quid pro quo. Therefore, the recent Federal government order to bar the indiscriminate use of the Dr title is seen as long overdue. 

A doctor is simply referring to someone qualified to teach at the highest level. But a blurred line existed between doctors of medicine and a doctor of philosophy.  Because when “doctor” is mentioned, given our culture of genericising brand names, we subconsciously think of medicine. This is why every toothpaste is a Close-Up, every milk is a Peak, chocolate Milo, seasoning cubes Maggi, instant noodles Indomie, washing detergent Omo or Clean, bleach Hypo, and every antiseptic liquid Dettol. Therefore, after the federal government succeeded to stop abusing Dr title, they had many more disputes to settle. Including clearing this genericization ambiguity. 

Another order that Professor Suwaiba Ahmad has to issue concerns herbal practitioners. The herbalists called themselves doctors, and society also addressed them as such. As traditionalists, perhaps the federal government should order them to stick with the traditional names they are known by:  Mallam (Hausa), Oníṣègùn (Yoruba), Ọnyọ́gwọ́ (Igbo), Oma-oyi (Idoma), Vingir (Tiv), Oboh (Igala), Amawato (Ijaw), Malam (Hausa & Kanuri), and Gandoowo (Fulfulde).

There is also abuse of the title Dr. among Nigerian students. A year-one medical student or a PhD calls themselves a doctor. When do these under-breastfeeding qualify to train others?  The minister needs to issue a warning order.

The most hilarious part is when remedial or matric students are addressed as doctors. Students in this category who intend to study MBBS address themselves as “Dr.” As a matter of urgency, the Honourable Minister should issue a stern warning against this misuse of the professional title “Doctor.”

Titles are held with high regard in Africa. It appears that the longer the titles, the more important the person. In this regard, the former presidents of Gambia and Uganda stand out. Yahya Jameh is addressed as Sheikh Professor Alhaji Dr Yahya Jammeh, Babili Mansa (Conqueror of Rivers” in Mandinka), His Excellency, Master of the River Gambia, Lord of the Animals and Birds of the River Gambia, President of the Republic of the Gambia, Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces. 

Idi Amin’s title is much more glamorous: His Excellency, President for Life, Field Marshal Al Hadji Doctor Idi Amin Dada, VC, DSO, MC, Lord of All the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Seas and Conqueror of the British Empire in Africa in General and Uganda in Particular. 

By Usman Abdullahi Koli

Amidst scarcity, poverty, and hunger, there are ironically unharvested fruits in abundance. We gazed up while ripe fruits flooded our soil. This is similar to the literary work of American poet Robert Frost, the author of the poem “Unharvested.” The great writer penned this poem to draw attention to the fact that some good things remain outside our systems of use, ownership, and planning, so that simply encountering them can be innocent again.

One of Frost’s most popular poems is “The Road Not Taken,” a work that conveys the feeling of trying new things, of stepping outside the status quo.

This is relatable to the just-concluded primaries of different political parties, particularly in Bauchi State. It came with opportunities but, sadly, represented a missed opportunity to harvest the prosperity it offered. As a citizen of this great state, I felt a missed opportunity in selecting flag bearers for the parties.

Bauchi has Dr Bala Maijama’a Wunti, who occupies a significant conversational space—not politically, but for his selfless impact over the years. He provides assistance that offers direct relief.

‘Technocrat with Compassion’

His professional grounding is firmly within the Nigerian National Petroleum Company system, where he spent over three decades in a demanding technical environment defined by discipline, precision, and accountability. Yet that institutional record, while significant, does not fully explain how his name moved beyond the corporate space into everyday social memory.

That movement happened through lived encounters that people still recall: a school fee quietly settled at a critical moment, a medical situation resolved when options had run out, a household supported through difficult times without the experience ever becoming a public display.

What makes Bala Wunti different from many other public figures from this corridor in Bauchi is not merely what he did, but how he carries himself while doing it. He is not a man who raises his voice to make a point. He does not need to announce his presence before entering a room.

Those who have worked closely with him describe a person who listens more than he speaks, who waits for others to finish before offering his own view, and who treats a person with nothing the same way he treats a person with everything. That is not performance; that is simply who he has been for as long as anyone can remember.

His humility is not the rehearsed kind that politicians put on during campaign seasons. It shows itself in small, unguarded moments that people notice without being told. He does not interrupt. He does not belittle. He does not make anyone feel small for not knowing what he knows.

He has a way of making you feel that your question is intelligent, your concern is valid, and your presence is welcome. In a society where power is often displayed through intimidation and loudness, his quiet dignity stands out like a calm person in a noisy room. You do not notice it at first, but after a while, you realise it is the only thing worth paying attention to.

His patience has been tested many times, especially during moments of political disappointment, and in every instance, he has refused to let frustration turn into rash action. He does not rush people. He does not force decisions before their time. He waits. He watches. He acts only when the time is right. That is the mark of a man who has nothing to prove and everything to protect.

His integrity is equally defining. Bala Wunti does not say one thing in private and another thing in public. What you see is what you get. He does not make promises he cannot keep, and he would rather lose an opportunity than lose his honour. In environments where verbal commitments are often discarded the moment they become inconvenient, that consistency has become legendary among those who have dealt with him.

His generosity is well known, but what is less discussed is the manner of it. He gives without making the recipient feel indebted. He helps without being reminded. He supports without keeping score. There are people in Bauchi today who have received life-changing assistance from him and have never once been made to feel like beggars.

Words of Robert Frost, in “Unharvested”: ‘As complete as the apple had given man.’ This depicts the abundance nature offers to man. This is what Bala Wunti has been offering on all fronts.

His composure through adversity is a quality that has earned him the deepest loyalty. When he was set aside by the political machinery, when the system pushed him out of consideration despite people’s desire for him, he did not rage. He did not threaten. He did not use his supporters to fight battles he could have easily started.

He simply returned to his foundation. He returned to the work he had been doing before ambition entered the picture. He accepted the outcome not with the weakness of resignation but with the strength of a man who knows that his worth is not tied to a title. That kind of self-control is extremely rare. It is the kind of thing people remember long after they have forgotten who won the election.

His supporters do not follow him because of what he promised them. They follow him because of what they have seen him do when no one was watching. They follow him because he has never made them feel like tools to be used and discarded.

They follow him because when they speak, he actually listens—not with the impatience of a man waiting for his turn to talk, but with the full attention of someone who believes that what they have to say matters. That is not leadership taught in any school. That is leadership that comes from a place deeper than training. It comes from a heart that has not been hardened by ambition.

History has a way of remembering men like this. In old emirates, before colonialism restructured everything, there were figures who never held official titles but remained in the memory of their communities for generations. They were the ones people turned to when formal authority was too distant or too compromised. They gave without keeping accounts.

They served without demanding recognition. They died, and people buried them with their own hands, and then they told stories about them for decades afterwards. A figure like that has not appeared in Bauchi for a very long time. Bala Wunti is that figure. It will be said that the fruits of abundance were unharvested.

Usman Abdullahi Koli wrote via mernoukoli@gmail.com. 

By Abdulhamid Abdullahi Aliyu

As Nigeria edges closer to the peak of the 2026 rainy season, a familiar but troubling question resurfaces: will the country once again be caught between early warnings and late responses? With fresh projections indicating widespread vulnerability in thousands of communities nationwide, the stakes have never been higher. The challenge is no longer about the absence of forecasts, but about the nation’s readiness to translate those warnings into timely, coordinated action. In this unfolding reality, the role of the National Emergency Management Agency (NEMA) becomes not just important, but central to determining whether preparedness will finally take precedence over panic.

The 2026 Annual Flood Outlook has once again sounded a stark warning. Over 30,000 communities are at risk nationwide, with 14,118 classified as high-risk across 33 states and the Federal Capital Territory. A further 15,597 fall within moderate-risk zones, while 923 communities are considered low risk. These are not just statistics; they represent homes, livelihoods, and entire local economies that could be disrupted within days if proactive measures are not taken.

Flooding in Nigeria has evolved into a complex and recurring crisis, driven by a combination of climate variability and human factors. Increased rainfall intensity, rising water levels in major rivers, and the impact of climate change continue to heighten vulnerability. At the same time, rapid urbanisation, poor drainage systems, encroachment on waterways, and indiscriminate waste disposal worsen the situation. The result is a dangerous cycle where natural triggers meet human negligence, amplifying the scale of destruction.

Against this backdrop, the federal government has signalled a renewed commitment to strengthening emergency response systems. President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, represented by the Minister of Environment, Balarabe Lawal, has acknowledged existing challenges while reaffirming efforts to improve coordination among relevant ministries and agencies. The emphasis on faster, more effective response mechanisms reflects a growing recognition that disaster management must evolve alongside emerging risks.

At the centre of this evolving response is the National Emergency Management Agency (NEMA), which continues to play a pivotal role in coordinating preparedness and mitigation efforts. In recent years, the agency has shifted its focus from largely reactive interventions to a more proactive strategy anchored in early warning and early action. This approach recognises a critical reality: disasters may not always be prevented, but their impact can be significantly reduced with the right level of preparedness.

One of the most notable aspects of NEMA’s current strategy is the strengthening of early warning systems. Working closely with technical agencies such as the Nigerian Meteorological Agency (NiMet) and the Nigerian Hydrological Services Agency (NIHSA), NEMA ensures that flood forecasts are disseminated well ahead of peak rainfall periods. However, the real challenge lies not just in issuing warnings, but in ensuring that they translate into timely and effective action at the community level.

To bridge this gap, the agency has intensified its grassroots sensitisation campaigns. Across flood-prone states, communities are being educated on evacuation procedures, the dangers of ignoring flood alerts, and the importance of maintaining clear drainage systems. These engagements, often carried out in collaboration with state emergency management agencies and local authorities, are gradually fostering a culture of preparedness that has long been lacking.

Equally significant is the increasing emphasis on simulation exercises and inter-agency coordination. Recent flood response drills conducted in vulnerable areas have brought together security agencies, emergency responders, and community volunteers to rehearse real-life scenarios. These exercises are not merely symbolic; they serve as practical tests of response capacity, helping to identify gaps and improve coordination before disaster strikes.

Yet, despite these efforts, persistent challenges remain. Early warning information does not always reach remote or underserved communities. In some cases, residents underestimate the risks or delay evacuation until it is too late. There is also the issue of uneven commitment at the sub-national level, where some state governments have yet to fully prioritise local preparedness measures. These gaps highlight the need for a more integrated approach that goes beyond federal interventions to include stronger state and community ownership.

Mitigation, in the broader sense, must also address structural and environmental factors. The desilting of drainage systems, enforcement of urban planning regulations, and prevention of construction on floodplains are critical steps that require sustained political will. Long-term solutions such as afforestation, improved land management, and climate-resilient infrastructure must also be prioritised if Nigeria is to reduce its vulnerability to recurring floods.

Technology is another area with significant potential. Real-time data monitoring, predictive analytics, and digital communication platforms can enhance both preparedness and response. When effectively deployed, these tools can ensure that warnings are not only timely but actionable, reaching people in formats they understand and trust.

Ultimately, the story of flooding in Nigeria is not just about rising water levels; it is about the intersection of environment, governance, and public behaviour. While agencies like NEMA continue to strengthen institutional response, the role of citizens cannot be overlooked. Simple actions such as proper waste disposal, adherence to building regulations, and responsiveness to evacuation directives can collectively make a significant difference.

As the 2026 flood season unfolds, Nigeria stands at a critical crossroads. The warnings are clear, the risks are well documented, and the institutional frameworks led by NEMA are steadily improving. Yet, the real test lies beyond projections and policy statements; it rests on collective action. Preparedness must move from paper to practice, from government desks to vulnerable communities. If the lessons of previous floods are taken seriously and early actions are sustained, this year could mark a turning point in Nigeria’s disaster management story. But if complacency prevails, the consequences will once again be measured in avoidable losses. The choice, ultimately, is not in the hands of nature, but in the resolve of a nation determined to act before the waters rise.

Abdulhamid Abdullahi Aliyu is a journalist and syndicate writer based in Abuja.

By Khadijat Abdulrasheed

Not every pain is loud. Some are hidden behind smiles, silent prayers, and eyes that have cried when no one was watching.

The book Tears They Never Saw is a deeply emotional and faith-driven story that explores the unseen struggles people endure in silence. It reflects heartbreak, emotional wounds, family trials, and the kind of suffering that the world often ignores but Allah never does.

At the heart of this story is a powerful message: the strength of dua (prayer) and its life-changing power. It shows that even when situations seem impossible and when hope feels lost, sincere prayer can rewrite destinies. Tears that fall in secret are never wasted when they are poured out before Allah.

Through compelling storytelling and relatable characters, this work reveals how faith becomes a lifeline in the darkest moments. It reminds readers that healing, mercy, and change can come in ways that human understanding cannot explain.

Tears They Never Saw is not just a story; it is a reflection of real-life struggles, silent battles, and the unseen strength of those who keep going despite pain. It carries a message of patience, hope, and divine intervention.

This book is for readers interested in a full emotional and spiritual journey that blends reality with faith. Anyone interested in reading the complete work can reach out directly for access.

Because sometimes, the tears no one sees… are the ones Allah answers most.

Khadijat can be reached via abdulrasheedkhadijatkuburah@gmail.com.

By Ukasha Kofarnassarawa 

Like almost everyone, I saw that Sheikh Ali Isa Ibrahim Pantami is now PDP’s gubernatorial flag bearer for Gombe State. Congratulations to him. Pantami is now everything he once criticised. But that’s not my focus here; the internet has receipts for anyone interested in digging.

The real calculation:

Amid all the “consensus-coronation” drama unfolding nationwide, many observers expected Sheikh to defect to either ADC or the NDC, which are seen as the strongest opposition blocs. But Abuja is playing a different game. This looks calculated.

Right now, the entire core North — both North-West and North-East — is held by APC governors, except Bauchi, which lately switched to APM. The party’s structure and acceptability are widely seen as weak, and the state is likely to return to APC in the next election, given its current flag bearer, the former governor of the state.

For the President’s party, having zero opposition across the whole core north would be a dangerous optics problem. It would look like a monopoly. To avoid that, Abuja needs to “sacrifice” 2  core northern states to the opposition, just to create balance. One in the northwest and the other in the northeast.

And among all opposition parties, PDP is the “lesser evil” from Abuja’s view because one of its sons controls a major faction there. So Pantami decamped to the PDP, which functions as an extension of the APC. The plan: he gets “appointed” governor to create the illusion of balance, then switches to the main APC immediately after winning.

Abuja’s handwriting is not hard to understand.

Ukasha Kofarnassarawa wrote via Ukasha_sani@yahoo.com.

By Haroon Aremu 

I remembered an article I once wrote, titled “After NYSC, A call for National job Creation and Youth Empowerment”. It was a piece born not from research papers or policy documents, but from lived experience. I wrote it at a time close to the completion of my service to the nation, armed with certificates, skills, energy, and hope, yet utterly directionless. 

No roadmap. No safety net. No assurance that the years spent in classrooms, lecture halls, and service camps would translate into something as basic as dignity through work. That article was a lament, yes, but more importantly, it was a warning. Today, that warning has become reality for millions.

In Nigeria, the idea of job security, especially for young people, has become almost mythical. It is spoken of like folklore: something people claim once existed, but which no one can quite prove anymore. Every year, universities, polytechnics, and colleges release fresh graduates into the labour market, and every year the market responds with silence. 

The government is often the first to be blamed, and rightly so. A state that cannot productively absorb its youth is sowing the seeds of long-term instability. But even when we turn to the private sector, supposedly the saviour, the door is only slightly ajar, and guarded by impossible conditions like “Five years’ experience,” “Six years’ experience”, and even “Prior industry exposure required.”

The question that screams but is never answered is simple: where does a young graduate get five years of experience without first being given an opportunity? How does one prove competence without access? How does potential survive when every door demands proof that can only come from another locked door?

Government jobs, which should ideally serve as a stabilising force, offer no refuge either. Age limits of 25, 30, and sometimes 35 are rigidly enforced, as though unemployment itself does not age people. What happens to the graduate who has been searching for work for six, seven, or eight years? By the time opportunity finally knocks, they are too old. They are now “too old” to be hired, yet too young to retire. Suspended in limbo.

The harsh truth is this: Nigeria’s population has outgrown its job opportunities. The numbers no longer lie. And in that imbalance, hope is often the first casualty.

Ironically, this is happening in a country that once celebrated progress with the signing of the Not Too Young to Run Bill by the late former President Muhammadu Buhari. That legislation symbolised inclusion, youth participation, and generational renewal. 

And to some extent, it has worked; young people are more visible in politics today than ever before. But visibility is not the same as empowerment. Representation without economic opportunity is cosmetic. 

Youth may now sit at tables of power, but they are largely absent from the tables of employment. Jobs are still distributed through networks, connections, patronage, or, as many whisper, through outright payments. Merit, in too many cases, has been demoted.

Today, employment in Nigeria often feels like a lottery where knowing someone matters more than knowing something. Or worse, like a spiritual pursuit, where success is attributed to “divine intervention” rather than transparent systems. 

Exams are written. Portals are filled. Interviews are attended. Then silence. No feedback. No closure. Just another unanswered email and another year added to one’s age.

Yes, vocational skills are important. Yes, entrepreneurship is valuable. But we must ask difficult questions: what structures has the government put in place to make vocational pathways truly viable? 

Our polytechnics, once designed to be hubs of technical and practical excellence, are themselves struggling for relevance, funding, and modernisation. The Ministry of Education must answer why vocational education has been reduced to rhetoric rather than strategy.

Even within the civil service, recent extensions of retirement age, while beneficial to those currently employed, have inadvertently shut the door further on younger Nigerians. If those inside cannot exit, those outside cannot enter. The system becomes a closed loop, recycling the same faces while millions wait endlessly at the gate.

Add to this the persistent rumours sometimes whispered about federal agencies where jobs allegedly come with price tags, and one must ask: what hope is there for the common Nigerian without money, without godfathers, without connections?

Unemployment does not exist in isolation. It feeds insecurity. It fuels crime. This is not abstract advocacy. This is not borrowed outrage. This is me speaking for myself and for countless others like me who are willing, able, and eager to work. 

Not all Nigerian youths are lazy. Many want to serve. Many want to build. Many want nothing more than a fair chance to contribute to the nation they call home.

So, Mr President, Bola Ahmed Tinubu, this conversation must reach you. Yes, we acknowledge the complexities of governance. Yes, we recognise the economic challenges you inherited. But youth unemployment cannot remain a footnote in national policy. It is an emergency.

What is the future of NYSC if service only becomes a transition into joblessness? Are we merely increasing the pool of unemployed graduates every year? What systems exist to absorb them? What hope do we offer those who cannot immediately pivot to vocational work, even as we encourage skills acquisition?

The youth are not just important to your government—they are its foundation. Without deliberate, transparent, and inclusive employment policies, frustration will continue to grow. And a nation where its youth feel abandoned is a nation sitting on a ticking clock.

We are not asking for favours. We are asking for an opportunity. We are asking for fairness. We are asking to be seen, heard, and included.

After NYSC, what’s next? Until Nigeria answers that question convincingly, the silence will remain louder than any promise.

Haroon Aremu Abiodun is a Nigerian Writer and can be reached via exponentumera@gmail.com.

 By Leah Nickaf 

Across Africa, women are increasingly taking centre stage in driving social change, community development, and humanitarian action. From education and healthcare to poverty alleviation and youth empowerment, female leaders are reshaping the continent’s development landscape through compassion-driven initiatives that address some of society’s most pressing challenges. Among these emerging voices is Amb. Dr Omanibe Ameh-Sanusi, founder of Oma Life Rescue Foundation, whose recent recognition as African Iconic Person of the Year highlights the growing influence of women-led humanitarian movements across Africa.

The special honour is more than a personal achievement; it is a recognition of the impact that dedicated women leaders are making within their communities. Through Oma Life Rescue Foundation, Dr Ameh-Sanusi has championed initiatives focused on education, empowerment, and humanitarian support for vulnerable populations. Her commitment to improving lives, particularly through projects such as the A Million Dream Educational Scholarship, reflects a leadership style centred on service, inclusion, and sustainable development. The award serves as a testament to the lives transformed through her vision and the foundation’s outreach efforts.

Women-led organisations are increasingly demonstrating that effective humanitarian work goes beyond providing immediate relief.

They are creating long-term solutions that empower individuals and strengthen communities. Under Dr Ameh-Sanusi’s leadership, Oma Life Rescue Foundation has embraced this approach by investing in education, supporting underserved communities, and creating opportunities for young people to build better futures. These efforts align with a broader movement across Africa, in which women are leading innovative responses to social challenges and advancing community-driven development.

The recognition of Dr Ameh-Sanusi also highlights the importance of supporting female leadership in the humanitarian sector. Across the continent, women continue to break barriers and redefine leadership by combining empathy with action. Their ability to understand community needs and mobilise resources for positive change has become a powerful force in addressing inequality, expanding access to opportunities, and fostering social progress.

As Oma Life Rescue Foundation continues to expand its reach, the award represents both a celebration of past achievements and a call to greater impact. It reinforces the foundation’s mission to transform lives while inspiring other women to pursue leadership roles in humanitarian work. In an era when Africa’s development increasingly depends on collaborative and inclusive leadership, Dr Omanibe Ameh-Sanusi stands as an example of how one woman’s vision can grow into a movement that uplifts communities and creates lasting change.

The rise of women-led humanitarian movements across Africa is not merely a trend; it is a transformative force. Through leaders like Dr Omanibe Ameh-Sanusi, the continent is witnessing the power of compassion, resilience, and purposeful leadership to build a more equitable and hopeful future for generations to come.

By Nasir Yusuf Jibril, Ibrahim Aliyu Gurin and Bilyaminu Gambo Abubakar

Eid al-Adha, also known as the Eid of Sacrifice, is the second festival celebrated each year by Muslims worldwide after Eid al-Fitr. The festival is being celebrated on the 10th of Zhul Hajj, the last month of the Islamic calendar. Muslims on this day are expected to sacrifice a sheep, a goat, a cow or a camel. The meat of the sacrificial animal is expected to be divided into three portions. The first portion is for the family, the second for friends and relatives, and the last for the needy.

The festival is celebrated to commemorate the spirit of obedience and the sincerity of Prophet Abraham (A.S). It was reported that Prophet Abraham (A.S) had repeatedly dreamt that Allah (SWT) ordered him to slaughter his only beloved son, named Ishmael, as a sacrifice. He informed his wife and, later, his son as well of the development, and they all agreed to obey the order from their Creator.

“And when he reached with him [the age of] exertion, he said, ‘O my son, indeed I have seen in a dream that I must sacrifice you, so see what you think.’ He said, ‘O my father, do as you are commanded. You will find me, if Allah wills, of the steadfast.’” (Qur’an 37:102).

While trying to slaughter his son, Iblis (The Devil) appeared and asked him, how dare he slaughter his son? Abraham (A.S) pelted the devil seven times and then moved to another place to slaughter the son. Here, too, Iblis followed him; he again pelted him with seven stones and moved to the third place. As he was about to put a knife to the neck of his beloved son, Allah (SWT) sent a sheep to replace Ishmael.

“And We ransomed him with a great sacrifice.” (Qur’an 37:107).

What transpired above was one of the numerous tests and challenges Prophet Abraham (A.S) underwent during his lifetime. Recall that Prophet Abraham (A.S) was the son of Aazar, the idol worshipper and seller. At about seven years old, little Abraham started questioning idol worship. He was once reported to have asked his father, “How could you worship what could not help or harm you?”

“O my father, why do you worship that which neither hears nor sees and will not benefit you at all?” (Qur’an 19:42).

He then advised Aazar, in a respectful way, to stop worshipping Iblis and to follow him, and that he would show him guidance.

“O my father, indeed there has come to me of knowledge that which has not come to you, so follow me; I will guide you to an even path.” (Qur’an 19:43).

The father, Aazar, got angry at one point and threatened to stone his little son, Abraham, if he continued asking silly questions.

“He said, ‘If you do not desist, I will surely stone you, so leave me for a long time.’” (Qur’an 19:46)

Furthermore, his community too decided to burn him to ashes as a punishment for destroying their deaf and dumb gods – idols. After setting one of the hottest fires on Earth, the idol-worshippers catapulted Prophet Abraham (A.S) from a far distance into the fire. His prayer was ” HasbunAllahu Wa Ni’imal Wakeel meaning “Allah is enough for me.”

“And whoever relies upon Allah – then He is sufficient for him.” (Qur’an 65:3)

Allah then asked the fire to become cold and peaceful to Abraham (A.S).

“We said, ‘O fire, be coolness and safety upon Abraham.’” (Qur’an 21:69)

The fire had answered the order from its Creator and untied him from the ropes and made him feel comfortable in it. Abraham (A.S) later walked out of the fire majestically without being hurt. The idol-worshippers were shocked and realised that the real Lord was with him, but unfortunately, none of them agreed to follow Abraham (A.S.), only his little nephew, Lot (A.S.). They (Abraham and Lot) decided to migrate (the first migration in the world for freedom of worship) from Iraq, where they were born, to another part of the Middle East.

“Indeed, I will go to my Lord; He will guide me.” (Qur’an 37:99).

When Prophet Abraham (A.S) married his beautiful wife, Sarah and left for Egypt, the King of Egypt, Nimrod, attempted to sleep with Prophet Abraham’s wife, but with supplication and absolute trust in Allah, Sarah was protected, and the arrogant King was paralysed. Allah then gave Prophet Abraham (A.S) Hagar, and then revealed the whole set of laws when Prophet Abraham (A.S) was 80. In the laws, he was ordered by Allah to circumcise himself, which he did without questioning. Prophet Abraham (A.S) prayed to his Lord to grant him a child, and his prayer was answered; he had his first son, Ishmael, through Hagar.

“My Lord, grant me [a child] from among the righteous. So We gave him good tidings of a forbearing boy.” (Qur’an 37:100–101)

They were happy and joyous, but his wife, Sarah, was jealous and wanted Hagar and her child to leave. Allah then ordered Prophet Abraham (A.S) to go and abandon the duo in a desert, the present-day Mecca, when Ishmael was barely a year old.

“Our Lord, indeed I have settled some of my descendants in an uncultivated valley near Your Sacred House, our Lord, that they may establish prayer.” (Qur’an 14:37)

Hagar asked Abraham (A.S) if he was commanded by Allah (SWT) to keep them there? Then Prophet Abraham answered Yes and had his way. Hagar and her son exhausted the bottle of water that Abraham (A.S) gave them. She, therefore, moved back and forth seven times between the mountains of Safa and Marwa to search for help. She later returned to her son, who was starving and dehydrated, to give him shelter. Allah SWT sent angel Gabriel to dig a well known as Zam-Zam at the exact place where little Ishmael was kicking his legs.

The aforementioned were some of the tests and challenges Prophet Abraham (A.S) went through, and he successfully passed them. What are the lessons to be learnt from this Man of Honour? Prophet Abraham (A.S) was a symbol of bravery, as he challenged his father, his community, and the most powerful King of his time – King Nimrod- to abandon their idols and worship Allah, the Creator. Prophet Abraham (A.S) also symbolised sacrifice, patience, perseverance, patriotism, respect, determination, commitment, dedication, trust, truth, justice, sincerity and obedience to Allah at the expense of his happiness.

“Indeed, Abraham was a nation [in himself], devoutly obedient to Allah, inclining toward truth, and he was not of those who associated others with Allah.” (Qur’an 16:120)

The question is: what, then, did he get in return for demonstrating these unique qualities? Allah has declared in the Holy Qur’an, the book in which Prophet Abraham’s name was mentioned 73 times in 25 different chapters, one of which was named after him, that “I shall make you the leader amongst men.”

“Indeed, I will make you a leader for the people.” (Qur’an 2:124)

Thereafter, all the prophets who came after him were from his two sons, Isaac and Ishmael. All the children of Israel, the Jews, Christians and Muslims look up to their father, Prophet Abraham (A.S). He was the only Prophet that Allah (SWT) asked Prophet Muhammad (SAW) to emulate his exemplary lifestyle.

“Then We revealed to you, [O Muhammad], to follow the religion of Abraham, inclining toward truth.” (Qur’an 16:123).

Moreover, the desert Abraham (A.S) abandoned his beloved wife, and his son became the city in which the last and final messenger, Muhammad (SAW), was born. The Masjid built by Abraham (A.S.) and his son, Ishmael, continues to be the direction that millions of Muslims face when performing their prayers. The well of Zam-Zam, dug for his abandoned family, still pumps water which is being drunk by millions of people. The seven-times movement between the mountains of Safa and Marwa, performed by Hagar, is part of the Hajj rites. 

Additionally, the three different places he relocated while trying to slaughter his only son, then, Ismael became a place of Ibada known as Jamrats, where every Pilgrim goes and stones the devil seven times as Prophet Abraham (A.S) did thousands of years ago.

Indeed, Prophet Abraham (A.S) was a true leader who, despite the tests, challenges, and calamities that befell him, never turned away from his Lord but rather became more committed and dedicated to his religion, leading by example for us to follow. 

The writers can be reached via Ibrahim Aliyu Gurin (ibrahimaliyu5023@gmail.com), Nasir Yusuf Jibril (nasirjibril2018@gmail.com), and Bilyaminu Gambo Abubakar bilyaminugambokonkol01@gmail.com).