Opinion
Empty Rhetorics: Bane Of Modern Politicking
Our pre-colonial politicians made us very proud. Even in the face of political turmoil, adversity and imbroglio, their public utterances were seasoned with intellectual prowess, dexterity and aptitude. Their speeches came out clean though with some lapses in between the lines. The likes of late Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe (The great Zik of Africa, Alvan Ikoku, Herbert Macauley, Sir Ahmadu Bello(the Sadauna of Sokoto), Chief Mbonu Ojike, etc, were astute wordsmiths of no mean repute who not only succeeded to bail Nigeria out from imperialism, but dazzled those white imperialists with spell-binding rhetoric(s). This hastened the speedy attainment of self-determination and eventual independence. This was in just about 50 years ago when Nigerian politicians were worth their onions in terms of scholastic public speaking and speech delivery. It was also a period of learning for them. Regrettably these days what we have is a hog wash of misapplied syntax and muffled phonology and incredible phonemics.
Good public speaking is a timeless asset. It is indeed crucial to achieving the ideals of democracy and a capitalist society. The ability of an individual; organisation or group (through their media representatives) in contemporary society to argue effectively in public, to think and speak persuasively, to debate logically and to form sound ethical judgments, are essential skills for becoming not just a better citizen, but a better leader of global reckoning.
Rhetoric is the art of influencing an audience through words. It dates back many centuries with its roots in the Greek and Roman periods of history. Before 500B.C.E a teacher and his student, Corax and Tisias, began rhetoric when they taught common citizens of the island of Sicily how to argue effectively for themselves in public forums. This humble work of Corax and Tisias actually inspired several people and led to the early tradition of rhetoric in ancient Greece. In 481 B.C.E., a group of Greek Philosophers emerged.
They called themselves Sophists and began to teach about thinking and speaking persuasively. Though other Greek writers challenged the technicality of these Sophists arguing that they concentrated more on technique and not on the content of a speech, the historical reality proved that they were pioneer speech makers foremost of who is Protagoras who has been widely acclaimed till date as the father of debate. This Protagorian hypothesis, birthed seasoned orators who were groomed on a variety of subjects, who also formed political, social and ethical judgments as statesmen and eloquent public speakers. Plato, one of the most famous Greek writers and Philosophers, advocated dialectic, which is a question and answer process used to examine all sides of an issue in quest or search of the truth. Aristotle also saw logic as essential to understanding any subject; hence, it was him who described systematically a type of persuasion for Western culture based on logic, emotion, and speaker’s credibility. The Roman period was not left out. In the 2nd century B.C.E., Cicero combined rhetoric and philosophy in his writings about public speaking. He so much believed like the Greek, that good speakers needed a well-rounded education.
The elections that brought in the then President Umaru Musa Yar’ Adua and his then Vice, now President Goodluck Jonathan to power was fraught with unpalatable utterances and untrained utterances by the so-called ruling party members, especially at the leadership level. If by reason of caption I am asked to tag it, I will simply say it was full of Empty Rhetorics. Some of the frontline campaigners or politicians were full of certain unguarded words against their political opponents which would not have been the case if they were trained public speakers. Note that in all circumstances, unguarded words are never for the good of the public. They are usually selfish and anachronistically evil in all intentions. Several speeches were made out of stem ambitions. At some point some of the speeches were like rhapsodies of ambiguities and a plethora of inconceivable, and high- falutin words. Such unseemly, grandiose, high-flown and snobbish words on campaign ground must not to continue this time around.
Our public speech makers should endeavour to eschew impulsive and obliterating phraseologies which will only lead to nowhere.
Our politicians should strive to out-do their pre-colonial counterparts who had a powerful literary aura and intellectual command which gave them undeniable access and victory during national and international conferences with the whites. We should be going away from the circumference of empty rhetoric and safe-landing on the pedestal of successful public speaking.
Ojogwu resides in Port Harcourt.
Felix Ojogwu
The events that unfolded in Abuja on Tuesday November 11, 2025 between the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Chief Nyesom Wike and a detachment of soldiers guarding a disputed property, led by Adams Yerima, a commissioned Naval Officer, may go down as one of the defining images of Nigeria’s democratic contradictions. It was not merely a quarrel over land. It was a confrontation between civil authority and the military legacy that still hovers over our national life.
Nyesom Wike, fiery and fearless as always, was seen on video exchanging words with a uniformed officer who refused to grant him passage to inspect a parcel of land alleged to have been illegally acquired. The minister’s voice rose, his temper flared, and the soldier, too, stood his ground, insisting on his own authority. Around them, aides, security men, and bystanders watched, stunned, as two embodiments of the Nigerian state clashed in the open.
The images spread fast, igniting debates across drawing rooms, beer parlours, and social media platforms. Some hailed Wike for standing up to military arrogance; others scolded him for perceived disrespect to the armed forces. Yet beneath the noise lies a deeper question about what sort of society we are building and whether power in Nigeria truly understands the limits of its own reach.
It is tragic that, more than two decades into civil rule, the relationship between the civilian arm of government and the military remains fragile and poorly understood. The presence of soldiers in a land dispute between private individuals and the city administration is, by all civic standards, an aberration. It recalls a dark era when might was right, and uniforms conferred immunity against accountability.
Wike’s anger, even if fiery, was rooted in a legitimate concern: that no individual, however connected or retired, should deploy the military to protect personal interests. That sentiment echoes the fundamental democratic creed that the law is supreme, not personalities. If his passion overshot decorum, it was perhaps a reflection of a nation weary of impunity.
On the other hand, the soldier in question is a symbol of another truth: that discipline, respect for order, and duty to hierarchy are ingrained in our armed forces. He may have been caught between conflicting instructions one from his superiors, another from a civilian minister exercising his lawful authority. The confusion points not to personal failure but to institutional dysfunction.
It is, therefore, simplistic to turn the incident into a morality play of good versus evil.
*********”**** What happened was an institutional embarrassment. Both men represented facets of the same failing system a polity still learning how to reconcile authority with civility, law with loyalty, and service with restraint.
In fairness, Wike has shown himself as a man of uncommon courage. Whether in Rivers State or at the FCTA, he does not shy away from confrontation. Yet courage without composure often feeds misunderstanding. A public officer must always be the cooler head, even when provoked, because the power of example outweighs the satisfaction of winning an argument.
Conversely, soldiers, too, must be reminded that their uniforms do not place them above civilian oversight. The military exists to defend the nation, not to enforce property claims or intimidate lawful authorities. Their participation in purely civil matters corrodes the image of the institution and erodes public trust.
One cannot overlook the irony: in a country where kidnappers roam highways and bandits sack villages, armed men are posted to guard contested land in the capital. It reflects misplaced priorities and distorted values. The Nigerian soldier, trained to defend sovereignty, should not be drawn into private or bureaucratic tussles.
Sycophancy remains the greatest ailment of our political culture. Many of those who now cheer one side or the other do so not out of conviction but out of convenience. Tomorrow they will switch allegiance. True patriotism lies not in defending personalities but in defending principles. A people enslaved by flattery cannot nurture a culture of justice.
The Nigerian elite must learn to submit to the same laws that govern the poor. When big men fence off public land and use connections to shield their interests, they mock the very constitution they swore to uphold. The FCT, as the mirror of national order, must not become a jungle where only the powerful can build.
The lesson for Wike himself is also clear: power is best exercised with calmness. The weight of his office demands more than bravery; it demands statesmanship. To lead is not merely to command, but to persuade — even those who resist your authority.
Equally, the lesson for the armed forces is that professionalism shines brightest in restraint. Obedience to illegal orders is not loyalty; it is complicity. The soldier who stands on the side of justice protects both his honour and the dignity of his uniform.
The Presidency, too, must see this episode as a wake-up call to clarify institutional boundaries. If soldiers can be drawn into civil enforcement without authorization, then our democracy remains at risk of subtle militarization. The constitution must speak louder than confusion.
The Nigerian public deserves better than spectacles of ego. We crave leaders who rise above emotion and officers who respect civilian supremacy. Our children must not inherit a nation where authority means shouting matches and intimidation in public glare.
Every democracy matures through such tests. What matters is whether we learn the right lessons. The British once had generals who defied parliament; the Americans once fought over states’ rights; Nigeria, too, must pass through her own growing pains but with humility, not hubris.
If the confrontation has stirred discomfort, then perhaps it has done the nation some good. It forces a conversation long overdue: Who truly owns the state — the citizen or the powerful? Can we build a Nigeria where institutions, not individuals, define our destiny?
As the dust settles, both the FCTA and the military hierarchy must conduct impartial investigations. The truth must be established — not to shame anyone, but to restore order. Where laws were broken, consequences must follow. Where misunderstandings occurred, apologies must be offered.
Let the rule of law triumph over the rule of impulse. Let civility triumph over confrontation. Let governance return to the path of dialogue and procedure.
Nigeria cannot continue to oscillate between civilian bravado and military arrogance. Both impulses spring from the same insecurity — the fear of losing control. True leadership lies in the ability to trust institutions to do their work without coercion.
Those who witnessed the clash saw a drama of two gladiators. One in starched khaki, one in well-cut suit. Both proud, both unyielding. But a nation cannot be built on stubbornness; it must be built on understanding. Power, when it meets power, should produce order, not chaos.
We must resist the temptation to glorify temper. Governance is not warfare; it is stewardship. The citizen watches, the world observes, and history records. How we handle moments like this will define our collective maturity.
The confrontation may have ended without violence, but it left deep questions in the national conscience. When men of authority quarrel in the open, institutions tremble. The people, once again, become spectators in a theatre of misplaced pride.
It is time for all who hold office — civilian or military — to remember that they serve under the same flag. That flag is neither khaki nor political colour; it is green-white-green, and it demands humility.
No victor, no vanquish only a lesson for a nation still learning to govern itself with dignity.
By; King Onunwor
