Politics

By Oladoja M.O

In the grand, often tumultuous, theatre of African politics, a deeply entrenched and insidious narrative persists: the Messiah-Villain Binary. This simplistic, yet devastating, framework casts political leaders not as fallible public servants, but as either divine saviours or malevolent destroyers. It’s a binary that suffocates nuance, stifles accountability, and, in a continent desperate for democratic maturity, acts as a corrosive cancer on the body politic. We must call this what it is: a dangerous delusion that has shackled Africa’s progress for far too long.

This orientation, a relic of post-colonial strongman politics, reduces the complex art of governance to a moral melodrama. Citizens, conditioned to see their leaders as larger-than-life figures, become spectators in a perpetual battle between good and evil. When a new leader emerges, they are instantly elevated to the status of a messiah, the one chosen to slay the dragons of poverty, corruption, and instability. Any opposition is, by default, cast as the villain, a saboteur working against the people’s will. This is not just a rhetorical device; it’s a profound psychological trap that prevents a healthy, critical relationship between the electorate and those they elect.

Look no further than the story of Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe. In the euphoric dawn of independence in 1980, Mugabe was the indisputable messiah. He had led the liberation struggle, promised the people a new land, and was seen as the architect of a new, prosperous Zimbabwe. But as his rule solidified, dissent grew. His staunchest supporters did not see his brutal suppression of the Gukurahundi massacres and his increasingly authoritarian tendencies as the actions of a flawed leader, but rather as the necessary evils required to defeat the ‘villains’—the opposition, foreign agents, and internal critics. This narrative allowed him to dismantle democratic institutions and cling to power for nearly four decades, all while his country’s economy imploded. The messiah had morphed into a tyrant, but the binary, with its pre-assigned roles, kept many from seeing the reality until it was too late.

A similar pattern can be seen in Rwanda, albeit with a different trajectory. Following the 1994 genocide, Paul Kagame was hailed as the man who pulled his nation from the brink of total annihilation. He is undeniably a messiah figure for many Rwandans, credited with bringing stability, order, and remarkable economic growth. Yet, this messianic status has made it incredibly difficult for a genuine political opposition to emerge. Critics, journalists, and political rivals who question his iron grip on power are often swiftly silenced, accused of undermining national unity or of being sympathisers of the genocidal past. 

The messiah’s narrative, while perhaps initially justified, has become a tool to legitimize the suppression of democratic pluralism. The ‘villain’ is no longer the genocidal regime, but anyone who dares to challenge the man who defeated it. This is a profound danger: when a leader’s infallibility is tied to a nation’s salvation, dissent becomes tantamount to treason.

The messiah-villain binary is a disease that festers in the heart of African electoral politics. It’s visible in the fervent, almost religious, rallies where supporters see their candidate not as a political leader with a manifesto, but as an oracle. The 2017 Kenyan election and the subsequent crisis offered a stark illustration. Both Uhuru Kenyatta and Raila Odinga were cast as messianic figures by their respective supporters. For Odinga’s base, he was the long-awaited liberator, the man who would finally lead them to a promised land of social justice. For Kenyatta’s supporters, he represented stability and continuity, the man protecting the country from the ‘villainous’ forces of instability. This emotional fervour, fueled by tribal and regional loyalties, led to a deeply polarised society where compromise became impossible. The result was not just political gridlock, but a cycle of violence and deep-seated animosity that continues to haunt the nation. The election wasn’t a contest of ideas; it was a crusade.

This issue is not just a problem of the past; it remains alive and well today. In Nigeria, the perennial politics of ‘saviour’ and ‘enemy’ plague the electoral landscape. From the military regimes to the current democratic dispensation, every election is framed as a life-or-death struggle against forces of darkness. A new candidate emerges, promising to sweep away the corruption of the past, and is instantly elevated to a messianic pedestal. Yet, once in power, the same old patterns of patronage and unaccountability emerge. The people, having invested their faith in a person rather than in institutions and processes, are left disillusioned, only to repeat the cycle with the next messiah figure. This prevents the building of strong, independent institutions, a free press, an impartial judiciary, and a non-partisan civil service, because the entire political system revolves around the individual, not the rules.

The messiah-villain binary is a trap, a narrative cul-de-sac from which genuine democratic progress cannot escape. It’s a cancer because it preys on hope, exploiting the legitimate frustrations of the populace for political gain. It turns citizens into blind followers and opponents into sworn enemies. This dangerous orientation must be dismantled. We must stop looking for messiahs. There are no magical saviours.

There are only men and women who are fallible, flawed, and accountable to the people they serve. We must demand a politics of substance, not spectacle. We must judge our leaders not by the promises they make on the campaign trail, but by their respect for democratic institutions, their commitment to the rule of law, and their willingness to be held to account.

The true liberation of Africa as a continent and Nigeria as a nation will not come from a single hero, but from a critical and engaged citizenry that understands that the power to govern belongs to them and that no politician, no matter how charismatic, is a god. It is time to retire the messiah, to dismantle the villain, and to embrace the hard, unglamorous work of building a true and lasting democracy.

Oladoja M.O writes from Abuja and can be reached at: mayokunmark@gmail.com.

By Garba Sidi

The strategy used to support His Excellency, the Governor of Jigawa State, Malam Umar Namadi, made his emergence seem like a golden opportunity, especially for the people of Hadejia. That’s why people from this region, regardless of political affiliation, united in full support behind him.

In fact, it got to the point where anyone who didn’t support him was branded as someone who didn’t care about Hadejia’s interests. Youths and other residents were mobilised in large numbers to vote overwhelmingly for him, resulting in a decisive defeat for his opponent. All this was done with the hope that having “their son” in power would finally bring the kind of development other governors had brought to their own regions.

BUT DID IT BRING GOOD RRSUL?

The general assumption is that if a governor comes from a certain area, that area should naturally receive more projects, opportunities, and attention than others. Unfortunately, in the case of Malam Umar Namadi, this has not been the reality.

Right from the appointment of commissioners, things started to take a different turn. Prominent politicians from Hadejia—those who invested their money, time, and energy into mobilising support—were sidelined. Instead, individuals who contributed nothing to the campaign were brought in and handed key positions. These new appointees now operate as they please, whether their actions are right or wrong.

This understandably caused frustration among the loyal politicians, many of whom withdrew, allowing their protégés to take to social media to criticise the government openly. Their anger is rooted in the fact that they were abandoned, while others who made no sacrifices are now enjoying the fruits of power.

Even in terms of developmental projects, Hadejia has not seen any significant attention that reflects the governor’s origins. For instance, the Specialist Hospital that the former governor and the Current Minister of Defence, Badaru Abubakar, initiated has been abandoned under the current administration, despite the region’s urgent need for it, particularly due to the high incidence of kidney-related diseases. Patients are frequently referred to Federal Medical Centre Nguru, Rasheed Shekoni Specialist Hospital, Dutse and Aminu Kano Teaching Hospital.

So far, the government has no tangible project it can point to as a benefit for the people of Hadejia, despite their overwhelming support. Ironically, the previous governor—who isn’t even from Hadejia—executed more meaningful projects there. Clearly, “Kwalliya ba ta biya kuɗin Sabulu ba”.

WHO IS CRITICIZING MALAM UMAR NAMADI’S GOVERNMENT?

Some supporters of Governor Malam Umar Danmodi claim there is a grand conspiracy to sabotage his government, supposedly because it originates from Hadejia. They even suggest that people from other regions, aided by unpatriotic elements within Hadejia, are driving the opposition. But that narrative is misleading. And the critics of this government can be broadly categorised into three groups:

THE POLITICIANS.

These are politicians who worked tirelessly and spent their resources to bring this administration to power. After the victory, they were cast aside. Their disappointment and frustration have led them to form alliances and challenge the government.

LOYALISTS OF THE FORMER GOVERNOR.

While not necessarily politicians, these individuals are close to the former governor. They took offense when Malam Umar began probing the previous administration and took actions perceived as targeting their benefactor. In retaliation, they began opposing the current government, criticizing its every move and encouraging others to do the same.

THE COMMON PEOPLE.

These are ordinary citizens who feel betrayed. Despite numerous announcements of new projects and the release of funds, they see little to no work on the ground. They witness government officials living lavishly while their schools lack teachers, hospitals lack doctors and medicines, and basic infrastructure is crumbling. These are the same citizens whose votes made this government possible, and now they are rightfully speaking out. So, is it a crime for the people of Hadejia to fall into any of these groups?

Some people are trying to twist the narrative, making it seem like the government is being attacked simply because it’s from Hadejia. But the reality is this: it’s the government being critized, not the region.

WHAT’S THE SOLUTION?

There is still time for reflection and correction. The administration should reach out to the neglected politicians from Hadejia who worked hard for its victory. Offer them a sincere apology and reintegrate them into the fold. Once that happens, their supporters will follow suit, and the political tension will ease.

Likewise, the faction loyal to the former governor and now Minister of Defense, Badaru Abubakar, should be approached with humility. Apologize where necessary, stop discriminating against his allies, and rebuild that bridge. Doing so will reduce hostility from that quarter.

Lastly, address the real issues affecting the people: poor healthcare, teacher shortages, and neglected infrastructure. Let the people see and feel the benefit of the support they gave. Prove to them that they made the right choice.

CONCLUSION

No one fights their own child. The people of Hadejia do not hate Malam Umar Namadi. They are simply disappointed by the neglect and lack of attention he has shown them—despite the overwhelming support they gave him when he needed it most.

Once he wakes up to this reality and takes action—not just words—to correct his course, the people will forgive and support him again.

May Allah guide us to do what is right.

I wrote the Article in Hausa, and I used ChatGPT to translate it into English.

By Muhammad Dan Kano

I have watched Kano’s civil space rise and fall over the years, and I must confess—what we are living through today is one of the saddest chapters. The silence we now see did not come from bans, threats, or crackdowns. It came from within. Our loudest voices, those who once stood before us as defenders of the people, were in fact working behind the scenes for the then-opposition party that now holds the seat of power.

On the surface, these men and women spoke the language of civil society: accountability, transparency, justice. They attended our town halls, drafted our communiqués, and stood at our press conferences. But as events have now shown, they were playing a double game—working for the citizens in daylight, but aligning their loyalties with politicians in the dark.

Take, for instance, the Kano Civil Society Platform. For years, it was the face of civil society in Kano, leading civil platforms and presenting itself as an independent voice of the people. But what many of us did not see then was that its activism tilted toward the opposition, quietly laying the groundwork for its current role. Today, the head is no longer the watchdog—but a Commissioner, the very voice of government. How can citizens trust that same platform to ever return to the civic space as an independent advocate?

Community Health Research Platform is another example. Highly respected in health advocacy and governance circles, it was perceived as fighting for the welfare of citizens. Yet, its alignment with political interests has now been made clear by its place in the system. The independence we once admired was, in truth, compromised long before official appointment.

And then there is another, Executive Director KAJA (KAYA) KAJA, who once represented the fiercest face of accountability in Kano, known for exposing governance lapses and demanding transparency. Many of us believed it was a shining example of what a watchdog should be. However, today, with KAJA appointed to the government, the fire has been extinguished. The once-vibrant KAJA is quiet, and the citizens who trusted it have been left disillusioned.

Even the Open Government Platform has not been spared. Its co-chair on the civil society side has been appointed to a government committee. This effectively blunts the citizens’ voice in Open Governance Platform processes. The very platform designed to guarantee equal partnership between government and citizens is now lopsided, tilted in favour of those in power.

Networks like Education For All, which once campaigned vigorously for education reforms, now spend their time attending government meetings, collecting transport allowances, and receiving awards from the governor. Independence is gone, credibility eroded.

The tragedy here is not just that these individuals accepted appointments—it is that for years, they masqueraded as neutral actors while quietly serving political interests. Unlike One Commissioner, who publicly and honourably resigned from the civic space before joining politics, these others chose to corrupt the system from within. They played both sides—civil society by day, politics by night.

That is why I ask: how will they return after their tenures? How will they look citizens in the eye and claim once again to be “independent voices”? How will their organisations reclaim trust when their leaders have already betrayed it? For me, and for many others, that trust has been broken.

I do not deny that bringing civic actors into government can strengthen delivery. But when watchdogs pretend to be neutral while secretly serving politicians, it is not inclusion—it is manipulation. The cost is the death of independent scrutiny.

Today, only a few brave individuals, like two Marxists, remain outside the government’s orbit. They continue to speak up, but without funding, their voices are faint. The vibrant, united civic space we once had during the days of SFTAS and FCDO’s PERL and ARC project is gone, fractured by appointments and rewards.

The lesson is clear. Civic leaders who wish to join politics must do so openly, as One Commissioner did. But those who exploit the civic space as a stepping stone to political office only betray the citizens who trusted them. They may enjoy power today, but the day they return to claim the mantle of “civil society” again, the people will not forget.

For me, that is the most tremendous loss—not just of voices, but of trust. And once trust is broken, can the civic space in Kano ever be the same again?

By Abdullahi Mukhtar Algasgaini

A formal complaint has been lodged with the Police Service Commission (PSC) against the Commissioner of Police and other officers of the Kaduna State Command, alleging widespread unprofessional conduct and abuse of office.

The petition, authored by the former Governor of Kaduna State, Malam Nasir El-Rufai, calls for an “immediate, impartial, and exhaustive investigation” into the officers’ activities. It alleges serial violations of the Nigeria Police Act 2020 and its regulations.

In the letter addressed to the Chairman of the PSC, El-Rufai stated he was motivated by a sense of duty as a citizen and former public servant. He highlighted his eight-year tenure as governor and expressed concern for the integrity of the Nigeria Police Force.

The former governor urged the Commission to exercise its constitutional and statutory powers to enforce discipline and promote ethical conduct within the force. The specific details of the alleged misconduct were not immediately disclosed in the petition’s introductory section.

The petition is expected to trigger a formal inquiry by the PSC into the operations of the Kaduna State Police Command under its current leadership.

By Oladoja M.O

“A dive into the political paralysis killing public health”

In the long and winding corridors of Nigeria’s national challenges, the health sector stands as one of the most visibly bruised, chronically neglected, and systemically under-prioritised. Yet, beyond the crumbling hospitals and overworked health workers lies a more insidious diagnosis: politics. Not politics in its ideal form, the noble art of governance, but the brand that manifests in distraction, dereliction, and dead ends. It is this politicisation, or rather, the wrong kind of political influence, that has become the biggest ailment afflicting Nigeria’s health system today. And until it is addressed, no number of policies, international partnerships, or ministerial press briefings will revive the sector to its full potential.

Let’s begin with a case study, a hopeful one that has slowly started to mirror the very problem it tried to solve.

When Dr. Muhammad Ali Pate was appointed Nigeria’s Coordinating Minister of Health and Social Welfare in August 2023, many saw a breath of fresh air. He came armed with credentials, experience, and, perhaps most importantly, energy. Within months, the sector began to stir with renewed ambition.

Under his leadership, Nigeria launched its first Health Sector Renewal Investment Initiative, signed a landmark Sector-Wide Approach (SWAp) compact with states and partners, and injected ₦50 billion into the Basic Healthcare Provision Fund (BHCPF), which was double the amount released in the previous year. Over 2,400 health workers were recruited and deployed across underserved areas. Primary healthcare facilities that had long been mere consulting rooms began to see improvements in personnel and reach. Vaccination efforts soared. 

A nationwide HPV rollout vaccinated nearly 5 million girls, and the long-awaited Oxford R21 malaria vaccine arrived on Nigerian soil. The government pursued a policy to unlock the healthcare value chain, drafting executive orders to encourage local pharmaceutical manufacturing and reduce import dependency. Even the National Health Insurance Authority (NHIA) was repositioned, expanding coverage through the Vulnerable Group Fund, while a national patient safety strategy was launched to bring quality and accountability into focus. All signs pointed to a government that was, finally, taking health seriously. But then, as quickly as the fire had been lit, it began to dim.

But from early 2025, a silence began to creep over the very desk that once signed reforms with urgency. Policy announcements grew fewer. Major rollouts dried up. The energy that had defined Pate’s first year slowly receded into a void of political undertones. And then came the whispers, and then confirmations of a new ambition: governorship in Bauchi State. Pate, by his own words in March 2025, declared himself “ready to serve” in his home state come 2027. From that moment on, what had been a robust health sector agenda began to take a back seat to the shifting winds of political alignment.

The problem isn’t ambition. It’s a distraction. A Coordinating Minister of Health in a country where maternal mortality is one of the highest in the world, where millions still pay out-of-pocket for even the most basic care, and where health infrastructure is crumbling under the weight of neglect, simply cannot afford to be half-present. This is the heart of the issue: politics has become both the gatekeeper and the grave-digger of Nigeria’s health potential.

For decades, well-meaning reforms have died at the altar of “lack of political will.” Budgets are approved, but rarely fully released. Policies are launched, but implementation fizzles out under new administrations. Health is often treated as a social service, rather than a critical pillar of economic development. Politicians are quicker to commission a white elephant hospital in a state capital than to strengthen the rural primary health centres where lives are quietly and daily lost.

And when leadership does finally begin to show some will, as Pate briefly did, the ever-thirsty machinery of Nigerian politics lures it away. This, perhaps, is the cruellest irony: politics that should drive public health, instead devours it.

The Nigerian public, meanwhile, remains largely unaware of how deeply entangled their health is with political decisions. Health issues are often viewed as isolated, with a bad hospital here and an unavailable drug there, rather than as symptoms of a larger systemic failure driven by poor governance, poor prioritisation, and a lack of sustained leadership.

We cannot continue to treat the health sector as an afterthought or a public relations prop. Health is not a photo opportunity. It is not a campaign gift or a once-in-a-quarter press release. It is a right, and more than that, it is the foundation for national development. No country has risen out of poverty, no economy has truly grown, without first investing heavily in the health of its people.

So, here’s the truth we must face: until Nigerian politics stops viewing health as just another item on a manifesto’s checklist and starts seeing it as a cornerstone of national survival, we will continue to spin our wheels. Ministers will come and go. Budgets will be announced and unspent. And the average Nigerian will continue to suffer preventable deaths, unaffordable care, and unattended illness.

The solution lies not only in leadership, but also in the voice of citizens, civil society, professionals, the media, and everyday people, who demand more than shallow commitments. We must demand that health be taken seriously, institutionally. That it be enshrined not just in words but in political action, protected from the cycles of campaign season, ego projects, and elective distractions. In this moment, we are witnessing a perfect case study of how even a promising leader can be lost to the lure of political pursuits. 

If Dr. Ali Pate, arguably one of Nigeria’s most qualified health minds, could be drawn away from a national assignment to a regional ambition, it speaks volumes about the fragility of reform when politics remains unchecked.

This article, then, is not just a critique. It is a call to consciousness. A call for the government to return to the trenches of national responsibility. A call for health to be declared not just a service, but a strategic national priority. A call for the public to realise that the decaying hospital they see is not just a facility issue, but a political problem. And it demands a political solution.

Let us stop treating the symptoms. Let us diagnose the root. And let us finally begin to treat politics as the virus silently killing Nigeria’s health system.

Oladoja M.O writes from Abuja and can be reached at mayokunmark@gmail.com.

By Garba Sidi.

It is with deep concern and growing anxiety that we observe the unfortunate political manipulation of development projects initiated by the former Chairman of Hadejia Local Government, Hon. Abdulƙadir Umar Bala, popularly known as T.O. Instead of initiating new projects of his own, the current Chairman, Honourable Yaro Abba Ari, has resorted to politicizing the legacy of his predecessor by either repainting existing infrastructure or dismantling projects completed under T.O.’s administration.

One glaring example is his unnecessary repainting of the town’s main gate — a project that had already been fully executed and completed before T.O.’s exit from office. Rather than embarking on a new initiative, the current chairman chose to repaint the already beautified gate just to claim credit, an act which many see as wasteful and driven by political jealousy.

Even more disturbing is his decision to demolish the small market built by the former chairman at Kofar Mandara within the town of Hadejia. That market had provided a much-needed business environment for local traders and also brought ease to residents in the neighbourhood who could access daily essentials without travelling far. This demolition represents not only a disregard for community welfare but also an irresponsible squandering of public funds invested in the project — an act that is completely unjust and alarming.

As it stands today, Honourable Yaro Abba Ari has spent a whole year in office as the new Chairman of Hadejia Local Government. Yet, there are no visible new projects or initiatives that have directly benefited the people of Hadejia. All we witness are his constant movements and public appearances with little or no tangible impact. The people of Hadejia continue to ask what exactly his administration is focused on, but we have yet to find a convincing answer.

Under the leadership of the former Chairman, Hon. Abdulƙadir Umar Bala (T.O), every ward or neighbourhood facing electricity challenges was provided with solar-powered streetlights. This significantly reduced crime and improved safety at night in those areas.

Moreover, the former Chairman supported the initiative of His Excellency Governor Malam Umar Namadi (Ɗanmoɗi), who had trained young people in borehole repairs. T.O. ensured that these skilled youths were employed by the local government to repair all faulty boreholes within Hadejia, thereby empowering them and improving access to clean water.

Recognising the water challenges faced by communities that rely on electric-powered boreholes, T.O. made it a point to distribute petroleum to every ward whenever there was a power outage. This allowed residents to run generators and continue to access water without interruption.

During his time in office, when Hon. Bala (T.O) noticed an increasing number of beggars — including women, young girls, and children — which was becoming a social problem, he initiated a reintegration program. He sent them back to their hometowns and provided them with startup capital to help them become self-reliant.

He also took decisive action against the growing problem of prostitution, especially among independent sex workers residing in the Gandun Sarki area. He ensured their relocation to their families and provided support to improve their lives, thereby contributing to the moral and social well-being of the entire Hadejia community.

In addition, the former Chairman did not forget the prisoners. He routinely visited the correctional facility in Modaci, Hadejia, to provide food and welfare materials to inmates, showing that his concern extended even to those behind bars.

He constructed numerous shops, aiming to stimulate the local economy and provide employment opportunities for the youth, paving the way for economic self-dependence.

Given all these progressive and people-centred efforts made by Hon. Abdulƙadir Umar Bala (T.O.) during his tenure, it is truly disheartening and alarming to witness the destruction and politicisation of his legacy. This act is motivated by political rivalry and not the public interest.

I am calling on the people of Hadejia to rise and take action — to rescue our town from the regressive direction it is being pushed into. We must unite to defend and preserve the progress that has been made, and ensure that our leaders are held accountable, not driven by political envy but by the duty to serve.

By ‎Sadiq Aliyu Waziri

‎With cliches such as the game of politics, playing politics, the political arena, politics is a dirty game, politics is a game of chess, politics is a game of power, politics is a game of cat and mouse, and many others alike, which metaphorically compare politics to a game, many that participate in it think it is a game-literally. It was Dr. Abdulaziz T. Bako who made the analogy, on Facebook sometime back, of how football fans supported their clubs to how many Nigerians took politics. However, is politics a game? 

‎The former Nigerian President, General Muhammadu Buhari, passed away two days ago. Moments after the announcement, photos of the widow of the late former President were seen circulating on social media. The images were captioned, stating that the deceased had bequeathed her to seek forgiveness from Nigerians on his behalf. She pleaded with Nigerians to forgive her husband before he was laid to rest. ‎

‎Since the announcement of the passing, followed by Aisha Buhari’s words, people became divided, with a section of them expressing their shock, forgiving and praying for the deceased. In contrast, others reminisce about Buhari’s time in office, voice out their dismay, and even go to the extent of publicising their rejection of the late President’s prayer. Again, there has been another section of people who even publicly celebrate the death. 

‎Let us recall that Buhari, just two years ago, was the most powerful, famous, and arguably the most loved Nigerian politician before he came to power in 2015. Who would have thought then that people would say unkind words about him or even celebrate his death? People idolised him; they fought and died for this man to gain power. 

‎Perhaps seeing Buhari’s widow, who at once felt she could not put up with a teasing statement from an immature university student, at people’s mercy, begging on her husband’s behalf, might make those who “play” the “game” of politics rethink their position, to realise that it is not a game. It never has been and never will be. 

‎To many of the player-participants, politics is merely a game to be played and won, with the ultimate goal of securing leadership positions and staying relevant. To many of the supporter-participants, it serves as an avenue to support and cheer the players, making money, securing appointments in some cases, and engaging in trolling one another. They come out and defend whatever wrong their bosses do and discredit and blemish whatever right their rivals do, simply because it’s all a game to them.‎

‎If they take politics as a game, it is at their own peril. And, it is high time that the people who participate in politics and take it as such understood that politics touches people’s lives. And that they do not have separate lives from their political activities. Every action, decision, cheer, support, defending, discrediting, blemish, etc., will be accounted for. They could view politics as a game, if that is what they choose, but it’s about this world for the next one.   

‎

‎Sadiq Aliyu Waziri wrote via sawaziry@yahoo.com.

By Lukman Dahiru 

Ahmad Uthman Muhammad is a beacon of hope and environmental stewardship in Nigeria. He is particularly noted for his tireless efforts in combating climate change. As the founder of the Purelife Foundation, he has spearheaded numerous tree-planting initiatives that have significantly contributed to reforestation and environmental conservation efforts across the region. His dedication to this cause has not only earned him respect but also the prestigious traditional title of ‘Inuwar Kasar Hausa’ in Daura, Katsina State, a recognition of his commitment to the land and its people.

From a young age, Ahmad has exhibited a rare blend of passion, vision, and action, equipping him excellently for any role in politics. In addition to his environmental efforts, his philanthropy has impacted numerous lives, highlighting his commitment to social welfare. His work with the Purelife Foundation has demonstrated his ability to mobilise communities for a greater cause, uniting individuals from diverse backgrounds to strive towards the common objective of a greener, more sustainable future. 

Ahmad’s venture into politics would mean introducing fresh, dynamic leadership to Adamawa’s political sphere. His understanding of environmental issues is not merely academic but practical, having implemented successful projects that could be scaled up for broader impact. His approach to politics would likely focus on sustainable development, ensuring that economic growth does not come at the expense of the environment. 

Imagine the potential benefits if Ahmad Uthman Muhammad became a federal legislator: his advocacy for policies promoting ecological balance, initiatives for green jobs, and legislation supporting renewable energy projects could have a profound impact nationwide. Moreover, his philanthropy extends his influence into areas like education, health, and social services, where his charitable initiatives could inspire policy changes that address poverty and support the underprivileged. 

Ahmad’s youthful dynamism would likely bring fresh perspectives to education, health, and infrastructure, fostering policies encouraging youth empowerment and innovation. His understanding of community needs, evidenced by his work with the Purelife Foundation, suggests he could push for legislation that enhances social services, supports local economies, and ensures more equitable resource distribution across the country. 

Ahmad’s connection with the community, evidenced by his traditional title, suggests a deep understanding of local culture and needs. This understanding would ensure that his representation would be effective and empathetic. His bid for the House of Representatives is not about personal ambition but about extending his environmental advocacy and philanthropy into the legislative arena, where they can have a wider impact. 

In conclusion, Ahmad Uthman Muhammad embodies a new wave of leadership—one that prioritises the health of the planet alongside the prosperity of its people. His background, achievements, and vision position him as a promising candidate who could effect significant positive change. His philanthropy emphasises his commitment to not only environmental but also social issues, establishing him as a holistic leader for the future.

Lukman Dahiru wrote from Yola, Nigeria, via ldahyru@gmail.com.

By Muhammad Umar Shehu

Nigeria is arguably the only country where the impoverished masses are forced to manage the situation as it is while those in power enjoy life to the fullest. People endure abject poverty, yet our leaders show no sympathy for humanity.  

Nigerian politicians lack compassion, empathy, and conscience for the populace. In this country, the poor must bear the suffering their leaders impose while so-called politicians revel in its intensification. Hunger is a condition no human can survive, yet our leaders compel us to endure it. 

The Nigerian economy is in a dire state because the government is being run by the incompetent, corrupt, unscrupulous, and among the least qualified. One thing I’m sure of is that Nigerian politicians would rather sell their country for power and wealth than pave the way for the poor.

Nigeria’s leaders have turned governance into a tool for personal enrichment. Public healthcare, education, and infrastructure funds vanish into private accounts, leaving citizens to endure crumbling hospitals, overcrowded schools, and impassable roads. While politicians flaunt luxury cars and foreign estates, millions struggle to afford one meal daily. This intentional neglect ensures the masses remain too desperate to challenge their oppressors. 

Coming back to the basics, in the past, before the 2023 general election, the nation’s current president, Bola Ahmed Tinubu, had been weaponizing hope with the slogan “Let the poor breathe”. Do the poor people actually breathe? And when are they going to breathe in this country of plenty?  

Nigerian politicians are used to using fake campaign promises to lobby votes from the poor masses. Still, they cannot be found once the election ends, and those campaign promises become unfulfilled. All my life, I’ve never seen people as shameless as Nigerian politicians. After all the fake promises, they still return during another election cycle with more fake promises. Are you not ashamed of yourselves at all?

Nigerian politicians hoard resources for themselves, raise their own salaries and silence dissent with violence. Meanwhile, families starve, workers go unpaid, pensioners are left starving, and youth lose hope. Until Nigerians unite to reject this cycle of greed, suffering will remain our nation’s legacy.

Muhammad Umar Shehu wrote from Gombe State and can be reached via Muhammadumarshehu2@gmail.com.

By Maryam Ahmad

Tesla is experiencing a sharp decline in sales across Europe and the UK, with analysts pointing to CEO Elon Musk’s political controversies as a key factor.

In January, Tesla sales plummeted by 59.5% in Germany compared to the previous year despite an overall rise in electric vehicle (EV) registrations. France recorded an even steeper drop of 63%, while UK sales fell by 8%, with no Tesla model ranking among the top 10 best-selling cars.

Industry experts suggest Musk’s public support for far-right figures and controversial statements have alienated European consumers, many of whom favour progressive policies. This backlash, coupled with Tesla’s ageing model lineup and delays in launching the refreshed Model Y, has led potential buyers to turn to competitors.

While Tesla remains a dominant force in the global EV market, the recent downturn underscores the growing impact of Musk’s political stance on the company’s brand and sales performance.