2027 elections

By Uzair Adam

The Kano State Government has urged beneficiaries of its land allocation programme not to sell their plots, saying the allocations are intended to provide long-term security and wealth for families rather than short-term financial gain.

The call was made on Sunday during the presentation of land allocation documents to polling agents in Kano under the administration of Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf.

Governor Yusuf, in a speech delivered by the Commissioner for Public Procurement, Projects Monitoring and Evaluation, Nura Ma’aji Sumaila, said the land allocation programme was part of a broader policy to expand home ownership across the state.

He said the initiative would gradually be extended to more segments of society, including young people, women, civil servants, community leaders and other hardworking citizens, as part of efforts to reduce the housing deficit and improve family security.

The governor noted that beneficiaries had received plots in professionally planned government layouts equipped with road networks, drainage systems, schools, healthcare facilities, markets, places of worship, parks and other public infrastructure.

According to him, proper urban planning would make it easier for government to provide essential services while increasing the long-term value of the properties.

The Commissioner for Land and Physical Planning, Abduljabbar Muhammad Umar, urged beneficiaries not to dispose of their plots because of short-term financial needs.

“Please do not sell your land allocation because of short-term financial needs. Instead, develop it, build your home and create a lasting asset for your family,” Umar said.

He explained that the allocated plots were located within government-approved layouts designed to create organised, safe and sustainable communities where families could live, invest and prosper.

Umar contrasted the layouts with illegal land developments, popularly known as Awon Igiya, which he said had contributed to unplanned settlements, flooding, traffic congestion, insecurity, land disputes and slum conditions across parts of the state.

He said the government remained committed to ending illegal land development and restoring order to land administration across Kano State.

The Daily Reality recalls that the Kano State Government on Saturday commenced the distribution of land allocation documents to political appointees, including Senior Special Assistants, Senior Special Reporters, Special Assistants, Special Reporters and Personal Assistants. 

The government said the exercise, which concluded on Sunday with the presentation to polling agents, was expected to benefit about 2,500 beneficiaries as part of its broader effort to expand home ownership and reduce the state’s housing deficit.

By Muhammad Abubakar

Since I came to France for work, I have been extremely cautious about criticising Israel or Benjamin Netanyahu. Often, though wrongly, people conflate criticism of an entity or a person with criticism of an idea or of an entire ethnic or religious group.

Soon after Hamas’s attack on Israel on October 7, I felt driven to write about the unresolved conflict. It was difficult to ignore the subject. Yet I was also concerned that expressing my views might affect my employment or even my residency status in France. To be certain, I reached out to our Human Resources department for guidance.

We essentially agreed on an important distinction. Israel and Benjamin Netanyahu are not the same as the Jewish people or Judaism. One can criticise the policies of the Israeli government or the actions of its prime minister without expressing hostility towards Jews or the Jewish faith. The same principle applies elsewhere. A person may criticise Saudi Arabia or Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman without being an Islamophobe or an enemy of Islam.

This distinction is fundamental in any society that values free expression and intellectual honesty. Democracies depend on the ability of citizens to question governments, leaders and public figures. If every criticism of a political leader is interpreted as an attack on an entire religion or ethnic group, meaningful public debate becomes impossible.

I was reminded of this principle after listening to new songs released yesterday by the Nigerian political singer, Dauda Kahutu, popularly known as Rarara. The songs appear to criticise an opposition politician in Gombe State, Sheikh Ali Isa Ibrahim Pantami, who is also a respected Islamic scholar.

Unfortunately, I have seen some people make the same mistake that often appears in discussions about international politics. They have framed criticism of Pantami as though it were criticism of Islam itself.

Pantami does not represent Islam. He is a Muslim and an influential public figure, but he remains an individual whose political choices, public statements and actions are open to public scrutiny, just like those of any other politician. Defending him is entirely legitimate, but such a defence should be based on facts, evidence and reason rather than on the assumption that any criticism directed at him is an attack on the religion he professes.

By any definition, both the singer and the governorship candidate he appears to criticise in his songs are Muslims. Neither of them represents Islam. Their political disagreements should therefore remain political disagreements. Turning them into religious disputes serves neither truth nor the public interest.

This tendency to wrap political figures in the cloak of religion is dangerous. It discourages accountability and deepens unnecessary divisions within society. Once religion becomes a shield against legitimate criticism, it becomes difficult to separate public responsibility from personal belief.

Nigeria’s diversity demands greater care in the language we use. Political competition should not be transformed into religious confrontation. Citizens should be able to disagree with politicians, governors, ministers or scholars without being accused of attacking an entire faith.

The lesson is simple. We must distinguish between people and the principles they claim to represent, between governments and the nations they govern, and between political leaders and the religions they practise. Failing to make these distinctions only fuels misunderstanding and polarisation.

Criticise ideas. Debate policies. Defend people if you wish. But let us avoid presenting political disagreements as battles for religion. In the long run, both politics and religion are better served when we keep that distinction clear.

By Ibrahim Aliyu Gurin 

In Northern Nigeria’s political battlegrounds, the loudest attacks don’t always come from campaign podiums. Long before Facebook, TikTok and WhatsApp turned everyone into a publisher, Hausaland already had its own version of political messaging.

The maroƙi (praise-singer) was more than a singer. He was a storyteller, historian and public commentator. When a leader did well, he sang yabo, verses filled with praise and the same performer could just as easily turn that skill toward humiliation by mocking a rival’s failures, appearance, or character in verses crafted to stick in public memory, which is referred to as zambo. 

Zambo is a sharp, witty poetry designed to mock, embarrass or expose. It wasn’t always pleasant, but it was part of the culture; the difference today is that zambo has become a political business.

Instead of entertaining a local crowd, one song can now reach millions of people before sunset. A chorus recorded in Kano can be playing in Kaduna, Sokoto, Abuja and even among Hausa communities abroad within hours.

No one illustrates this better than Dauda Kahutu Rarara. Over the years, he has released songs like Hannun Karɓa, Masu Gudu Su Gudu, Baba Buhari Dodar, Jagaba Shi Ne Gaba and recently Malam Ya Yi Rawa. To his supporters, these are campaign anthems. To his critics, they are political attacks wrapped in catchy melodies. Whatever side you take, one thing is difficult to deny: people remember the songs long after they have forgotten the campaign speeches, and this alone says something about the power of music.

What makes today’s political songs different from the poetry of men like Sa’adu Zungur, Mudi Sipikin or Garba Affa is intention. Earlier political poetry was designed to awaken society, challenge injustice and educate the people. Much of today’s political music is driven by patronage. A politician hires a musician, the musician praises one side, ridicules the other, and the song becomes another campaign strategy.

Perhaps that is why political music now feels less like public service and more like political advertising. There is nothing wrong with musicians supporting politicians. Every artist has the right to hold political views. The concern begins when entertainment replaces truth, becomes more influential than verified facts, and insults travel farther than ideas.

Maybe the bigger question is not why politicians pay musicians. Maybe it is why we, the listeners, remember the insults more easily than the policies.

As another election season approaches, perhaps the challenge is to enjoy the music without allowing the chorus to become our ballot paper. After all, a hit song lasts only a few minutes, but the consequences of the leaders we choose can last for years.

Ibrahim Aliyu Gurin is a graduate of mass communication from Bayero University, Kano, and can be reached at ibrahimaliyu5023@gmail.com.

By Zayyad I. Muhammad 

One of the gubernatorial ambitions generating the most intense debate and public interest ahead of the Gombe State 2027 governorship race is that of Professor Isa Ali Ibrahim Pantami.

From the outset, Professor Pantami’s reported interest in contesting for the governorship attracted attention far beyond the borders of Gombe State. This is largely because he is not regarded as a conventional politician. Rather, he is an accomplished academic, Islamic scholar, technocrat, and former Minister of Communications and Digital Economy whose tenure earned him national recognition for driving Nigeria’s digital transformation.

Pantami’s potential candidacy appears to enjoy support from three distinct constituencies.

The first consists of those who genuinely believe he has something significant to offer the state. They draw inspiration from his performance as minister, citing his reforms in the digital economy, the expansion of broadband infrastructure, the growth of digital identity enrolment, and his emphasis on innovation, transparency, and public sector efficiency. To this group, his administrative record demonstrates that he possesses the competence and vision required to govern Gombe State.

The second group is found within the opposition in Gombe state, particularly elements of the PDP, who view Pantami as one of the few personalities with the political profile, credibility, and public appeal capable of mounting a serious challenge against the APC’s candidate-Dr. Jamilu Isiyaku Gwamna. Whether they support him or not, many acknowledge that his entry into the race would significantly alter the political equation.

The third constituency comprises sections of the religious community who see his ambition as an opportunity for one of their own to demonstrate how religious scholarship, intellectual depth, and public service can translate into effective democratic governance. For many within this group, his candidacy represents more than a political contest; it is an opportunity to test whether the values he has consistently preached can be successfully applied in elective office.

Like every major political figure, Pantami also faces opposition from different quarters.

The first group consists mainly of career politicians who believe he is entering a political space traditionally occupied by established political actors. To them, he is an outsider attempting to disrupt existing political calculations, alliances, and structures that have been built over many years.

Perhaps more surprisingly, the second group of opponents comes from within sections of his immediate religious constituency. Some clerics and religious associates reportedly believe that during his tenure as minister, he did not sufficiently carry them along or extend the expected level of inclusion and patronage. Consequently, while they may respect his scholarly credentials, they remain reluctant to support his political ambition.

Another dimension that has attracted considerable attention is the political dexterity with which Pantami secured the PDP gubernatorial ticket. The manner in which he navigated the party’s internal dynamics and emerged as its flagbearer suggests careful planning and strategic preparation rather than mere political ambition. His decision to align with the Nyesom Wike-led faction of the PDP, a bloc widely perceived in political circles as maintaining a cooperative relationship with the APC-led Federal Government, has further strengthened his political positioning. The goodwill and support he reportedly enjoys within that tendency of the PDP could prove to be a significant advantage as the campaign unfolds.

In addition, Pantami could benefit from protest votes originating from within the APC. Some influential APC stakeholders and their supporters who believe Governor Muhammadu Inuwa Yahaya has not done sufficient justice to their political aspirations or interests may choose to channel their dissatisfaction by supporting Pantami. While it remains to be seen how substantial such a shift could be, the possibility of cross-party protest votes is a factor that political observers cannot ignore.

Whichever way one chooses to examine it, Professor Isa Ali Ibrahim Pantami’s potential governorship candidacy is in a class of its own. What initially appeared to be little more than speculation or a distant aspiration has steadily evolved into one of the defining conversations in Gombe State politics. official campaign has yet to commence, but the discussions surrounding Pantami’s governorship ambition have already reshaped Gombe State’s political landscape, making him a force that political stakeholders can no longer afford to ignore.

The ultimate test, however, will not simply be the enthusiasm surrounding his candidacy but his ability to convert goodwill into an effective political structure, sustain broad-based alliances, and persuade the electorate that his administrative achievements at the federal level can be replicated in Gombe State. Regardless of the eventual outcome, Pantami has already ensured that the Gombe 2027 governorship contest will be one of the most closely watched political battles in the state’s history.

Zayyad I. Muhammad writes from Abuja via zaymohd@yahoo.com.

By Zayyad I. Muhammad 

President Asiwaju Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s decision to retain Vice President Kashim Shettima as his running mate for the 2027 presidential election is both a political and strategic calculation. Rather than introducing uncertainty into an already established political partnership, the President has chosen continuity, a decision that reflects the realities of Nigeria’s electoral politics, geopolitical balancing, and coalition-building.

Politics, particularly presidential politics in Nigeria, is rarely driven by sentiment. It is fundamentally about numbers, alliances, regional interests, and electoral strategy. Every major decision is weighed against one overriding objective: securing the broadest possible coalition needed to win an election. Viewed from that perspective, retaining Shettima was arguably the most pragmatic option available to the President.

One of the most immediate advantages of the decision is that it effectively closes the chapter on the controversy surrounding the Muslim-Muslim ticket. Ahead of the 2023 presidential election, the APC’s decision to field two Muslim candidates generated widespread debate, especially among many Christians who expressed concerns about religious inclusion and national balance.

However, after more than three years in office, that issue has largely lost its political intensity. While differing opinions remain, the fears that dominated public discourse during the 2023 campaign have, to a considerable extent, subsided. By retaining Shettima, President Tinubu has denied political opponents the opportunity to revive an issue whose electoral potency has significantly diminished.

Beyond the religious debate lies an even more delicate consideration: Nigeria’s geopolitical balance. Had President Tinubu replaced Shettima with another politician from the North-East, the North-West, the country’s largest voting bloc, could have interpreted the move as another instance in which its political aspirations were overlooked, potentially reigniting debates about equity and representation.

Conversely, choosing a replacement from the North-West would almost certainly have generated discontent in the North-East. Having produced the incumbent Vice President, the region would naturally expect to retain the position. Removing Shettima without any compelling political or governance justification could have alienated key stakeholders and weakened support in a region that remains strategically important to the APC.

Some time ago, a number of individuals campaigned for the selection of a northern Christian as the Vice President, arguing that a Muslim-Christian ticket would be more politically acceptable. While the proposal appealed to those seeking religious balancing, it overlooked the practical realities of Nigerian presidential elections.

For a southern Muslim presidential candidate seeking the presidency, pairing with a northern Christian is not necessarily the most pragmatic electoral formula if the objective is to maximise support across Northern Nigeria. Presidential elections are rarely won on symbolism alone. They are won through careful coalition-building, political structures, regional alliances, and voting strength. In Nigeria, electoral success is driven as much by geopolitical realities and numbers as it is by perception.

President Tinubu has built his political career on strategic calculation rather than emotional decision-making. Over several decades, he has demonstrated an ability to assemble winning political coalitions by focusing on electoral arithmetic, regional dynamics, and long-term political stability. His decision to retain Shettima is consistent with that political philosophy.

There is also the question of continuity. Since assuming office in 2023, Tinubu and Shettima have worked together to lead the administration, build relationships across government, and strengthen the APC’s political structures nationwide. Replacing a sitting Vice President without a compelling reason could have created unnecessary speculation about internal divisions and handed the opposition a fresh political narrative.

By retaining Shettima, President Tinubu has instead projected stability, confidence, and consistency. The decision preserves an established partnership, reassures party supporters, and allows the APC to approach the 2027 election with a united front.

Ultimately, successful presidential campaigns are built not on emotion but on careful political judgment. Difficult decisions are inevitable, but experienced politicians choose the option that minimises political risk while maximising electoral advantage.

Judged against Nigeria’s electoral realities, geopolitical sensitivities, and the imperative of preserving a broad national coalition, President Tinubu’s decision to retain Vice President Kashim Shettima was not only the least controversial choice,it was the most politically strategic.

Zayyad I. Muhammad writes Abuja via zaymohd@yahoo.com.

By Prince Daniel Aboki

Every Nigerian has the constitutional right to support any political party or candidate of their choice. That right is guaranteed by the Constitution and should always be respected.

However, an industry cannot thrive when, every election cycle, a few individuals position themselves as speaking on behalf of everyone, mobilising groups to endorse politicians and, in the process, reducing the industry’s engagement with government to the pursuit of personal benefits.

When this becomes the dominant culture, the industry risks not being taken seriously. Government and development partners are beginning to see the industry not as a strategic economic sector but as a collection of individuals seeking patronage every four years. More often than not, the distribution of cash gifts, vehicles, and other favours also creates avoidable divisions within the industry, as practitioners become aligned with competing political interests. Instead of fostering unity around the collective growth of Kannywood, election seasons too often leave the industry fragmented long after the campaigns have ended.

Politicians understand the influence that Kannywood celebrities command, particularly in Kano and across Northern Nigeria. They know these personalities can shape public opinion, mobilise supporters, and amplify campaign messages during elections. That influence is valuable, but it should be used as a bargaining tool to secure lasting benefits for the entire industry—not for personal aggrandisement. Our collective influence should translate into meaningful negotiations for better policies, sustainable funding, stronger institutions, improved infrastructure, and greater opportunities for everyone in Kannywood, rather than short-term personal gains for a few individuals.

Kannywood is far bigger than election campaigns. It is one of Northern Nigeria’s greatest cultural and economic assets. It has the capacity to create thousands of jobs, preserve and promote our culture, strengthen social values, attract tourism, earn foreign exchange, stimulate investment, and project Northern Nigeria to the world.

What makes this even more compelling is that Kannywood has already demonstrated its commercial strength. Some of its producers operate some of the biggest and most successful YouTube channels in Nigeria, attracting millions of views and building significant audiences worldwide. That success should not remain the achievement of a few individuals. It should be consolidated into an industry-wide strategy that creates opportunities for younger filmmakers, actors, writers, directors, editors, cinematographers, musicians, and other creative professionals.

This is the conversation we should be having with those in office and those seeking public office.

Rather than seeking cash gifts, vehicles, or personal favours, we should be demanding policies that strengthen the entire industry: film villages, production funds, affordable financing, stronger copyright protection, modern cinema infrastructure, professional training, international partnerships, tax incentives, and support for participation in global film markets and festivals. That is how enduring creative industries are built.

Over the years, Nollywood has increasingly engaged government and development partners on issues that strengthen the industry’s ecosystem. The conversation has largely centred on policy, investment, institutional support, skills development, financing, and international collaboration. Individual practitioners may support political candidates—as they are entitled to—but the industry’s long-term development has remained a central focus.

This does not mean Nollywood is a perfect congregation. There have also been individuals within Nollywood who have pursued personal interests above the collective interest of the industry. However, when the two industries are compared, Nollywood has, on balance, positioned itself more effectively as a strategic partner in industry development, policy engagement, and institutional growth. Kannywood can do the same.

We must stop approaching politicians with a cap in hand every election season. An industry with this much talent, influence, and economic potential should not present itself as a sector waiting for handouts. It should present itself as a partner in development—one capable of creating jobs, generating revenue, attracting investment, promoting tourism, preserving culture, and contributing meaningfully to the economy of Northern Nigeria.

Politicians will respect Kannywood when Kannywood first respects its own value. This is not a criticism of anyone’s constitutional right to participate in politics or support a candidate. Rather, it is a call for Kannywood to recognise its collective economic power and organise itself as an industry worthy of sustained investment, strategic partnerships, and long-term development.

The question should no longer be, “Who is giving us what?” The question should be, “What policies, investments, and partnerships will transform Kannywood into one of Africa’s most competitive creative industries?”

The future of Kannywood will not be determined by what a handful of individuals receive during an election season. It will be determined by what the entire industry builds together for generations to come.

The choice before us is simple: we can continue chasing political patronage every four years, or we can build an industry that creates wealth, creates jobs, attracts investment, shapes culture, and becomes impossible for governments and the rest of the world to ignore.

Prince Daniel is “A Concerned Citizen” and a filmmaker. He can be reached via blackvillemedia@gmail.com.

By Haroon Aremu 

In recent days, I have watched a growing wave of messages urging Nigerians to collect their Permanent Voter Cards (PVCs) before the deadline. Everywhere I turned, there were reminders, appeals, and passionate campaigns encouraging citizens to obtain their voter cards and prepare to vote. Some messages urged people to “vote out bad leaders,” while others called on Nigerians to “vote for change” and “take back their country.”

As I read these messages, I found myself reflecting deeply. Rather than joining the chorus immediately, I paused and asked a question that many of us seem reluctant to confront. What makes us so certain that the person we are urging people to vote for today will not become the same person we criticise, condemn, and perhaps even curse tomorrow?

This question is not intended to discourage voting, but is mainly directed to the youth rather than others. Democracy thrives when citizens participate. Every eligible Nigerian should obtain a PVC and exercise their constitutional right to vote. However, voting without deeper reflection may only lead us into a cycle we have repeated for decades.

The reality is that many of the leaders Nigerians complain about today were once celebrated as political messiahs. At one point or another, they were symbols of hope. They made promises that inspired confidence. They convinced millions that they possessed the solutions to the nation’s problems. Their supporters defended them passionately and often believed that once they assumed office, prosperity, security, and development would naturally follow.

Yet, as time passed, many of those same leaders became subjects of disappointment. The expectations that accompanied their emergence gradually gave way to frustration. Citizens who once praised them began to criticise them. 

This pattern raises an uncomfortable but necessary question. Is Nigeria’s problem merely about replacing one leader with another, or is it deeper than that?

Election seasons often resemble a search for a political saviour. Every cycle produces a new candidate who is presented as the answer to the nation’s challenges. Supporters speak about them with almost religious conviction. Opponents are dismissed, while supporters insist that their preferred candidate possesses the vision, courage, and competence needed to rescue the country. However, once the realities of governance emerge, many leaders themselves begin to admit that the challenges they inherited were greater than they anticipated.

How many times have Nigerians heard leaders say, “We didn’t know the situation was this bad”? How many administrations have entered office with grand promises only to later explain why those promises could not be fulfilled? If this pattern keeps repeating itself across different administrations, perhaps the issue is larger than individual politicians.

As an analyst of human behaviour and societal trends, I have come to believe that leadership is often a reflection of the society from which it emerges. We frequently focus on the leaders at the top while ignoring the conduct of the people at the bottom. We condemn corruption in high offices while celebrating dishonesty in everyday life. We criticise politicians for abusing power while remaining silent when similar abuses occur in our communities, workplaces, institutions, and associations.

The truth is that leadership challenges are visible at every level of society. From class captains in schools to community leaders, from local associations to religious organisations, from traditional institutions to political structures, the same tendencies recur. Favouritism, greed, selfishness, abuse of authority, and lack of accountability are not problems exclusive to national leaders. They are societal problems that manifest differently at different levels.

This observation reminds me of a profound principle found in both the Bible and the Qur’an. In the Qur’an, Surah Ar-Ra’d 13:11 states that Allah will not change the condition of a people until they change what is within themselves. Similarly, the Bible in Proverbs 29:2 says

When the righteous are in authority, the people rejoice: but when the wicked beareth rule, the people mourn.”

. These teachings suggest that national transformation is not solely dependent on political leadership. It is also connected to the values, character, and behaviour of citizens.

Perhaps this explains why changing leaders alone has not always produced the transformation Nigerians desire. A society cannot continuously reward negative values and expect positive outcomes from those it elects. If selfishness, dishonesty, and corruption become normalised among citizens, it becomes increasingly difficult to expect public officials to behave differently once they attain power.

This does not mean leaders are not important. Leadership matters. Policies matter. Governance matters. Elections matter. However, believing that a single individual can solve every national challenge may be one of the greatest misconceptions in modern politics.

 Some of the world’s most developed countries are struggling with challenges that cannot be solved overnight by a single leader.

Nigeria’s problems are complex. They require visionary leadership, yes, but they also require responsible citizenship, strong institutions, accountability, productivity, innovation, and a cultural shift in how people relate to one another and to the nation.

Therefore, while I fully support the call for Nigerians to obtain their PVCs, I believe the conversation should go beyond voting. The more important question is what happens after the election. Are we willing to demand integrity from ourselves as much as we demand it from politicians? Are we prepared to contribute positively to our communities, workplaces, and institutions?

Most importantly, before passionately campaigning for a candidate, perhaps each of us should ask a simple question: if this person eventually wins and fails to meet expectations, will I become one of those criticising them tomorrow?

If the answer is yes, then perhaps our focus should not be solely on changing leaders. Perhaps it should also be about changing ourselves.

Haroon Aremu Abiodun is a developmental journalist who writes from Abuja and can be reached via exponentumera@gmail.com.

By Muhammad Muhammad Salisu Esq.

As Nigeria approaches the 2027 elections, the alliance between the Kwankwasiyya and Obidient movements is attracting significant attention. On paper, it looks like a powerful partnership. Kwankwasiyya has a strong following in Kano and much of the North, while the Obidient movement enjoys significant support among young people and urban voters, especially in the South.

Together, they could become a formidable political force. But there is a problem.

Both movements have increasingly developed a reputation for attacking critics, insulting opponents, and treating disagreement as betrayal. Politics is a game of persuasion, not intimidation. A movement that insults everyone outside its camp may excite its loyal supporters, but it will struggle to attract the undecided voters needed to win national elections.

The situation worsened when some Kwankwasiyya supporters recently made comments perceived as disrespectful toward the late Sir Ahmadu Bello, the Sardauna of Sokoto. For many Northerners, the Sardauna is not just a historical figure. He is regarded as one of the architects of modern Northern Nigeria, a leader who championed education, institution building, economic development, and regional unity.

Attacking such a widely respected figure is politically damaging. It alienates many Northerners who might otherwise be sympathetic to the movement and raises questions about the judgment of those involved.

This is why Senator Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso needs to clearly distance himself from such attacks. In politics, silence is often interpreted as approval. A simple and firm defence of the Sardauna’s legacy would reassure many people that the movement respects Northern history and values.

The larger lesson is straightforward. No political movement can build a successful national coalition through insults, bullying, hostility, or attacks on respected historical figures. Winning elections requires discipline, maturity, tolerance, and respect for people who hold different opinions.

The Kwankwasiyya-Obidient alliance has the potential to become a serious national alternative. But potential alone is not enough. If both movements continue down the path of intolerance and political hostility, they risk pushing away the very voters they need.

The choice before Kwankwasiyya is simple: either grow into a movement capable of governing Nigeria or remain trapped in a cycle of unnecessary controversies and self-inflicted political wounds.

In the end, political movements are remembered not for how loudly their supporters shout, but for the wisdom, discipline, and judgment they display when it matters most.

Muhammad Muhammad Salisu Esq. wrote via muhammad.writes01@gmail.com.

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 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.