Opinion
Between FG And New Niger Bridge
“I have never seen anything remotely like this before,” –Lt. Amelia Huffman, Minneapolis Police Dept.
“I got out of my car and the first thing I heard was [were] the kids screaming on the bus. I called 911. I didn’t really know what else I could do.” –Flip Saunders
These were some of the sentiments and anguish expressed by eyewitnesses to the rush hour catastrophic collapse of an eight-lane steel truss arch I-35W Mississippi River Bridge in Minneapolis, Minnesota, United States, on August 1, 2007.
I remember vividly that day and the ensuing wall-to-wall coverage of the accident by the television networks. With advanced and efficient first responders in America, many families still were devastated and the nation sympathized and remembered them in its thoughts. Indeed, it was a sad day in the US, particularly in Minnesota.
Sadly, the anguish could be quadrupled in the event that Niger Bridge in Nigeria, collapses — an inevitable collapse that would reverberate around the country; the predictable crumple is just a matter of time.
Obviously, the calamity would result in scores of luxurious buses and other numerous vehicles with their passengers being plunged into River Niger — an avoidable reality. Indeed, there is a technical report currently sitting with the Presidency, warning that the present Niger Bridge will collapse any moment from now. This is alarming!
In fact, the associated human and economic costs of the predictable, but avoidable calamity of the Niger Bridge are enormous. Let me reiterate, undoubtedly, the human and economic consequences resulting from Niger Bridge collapse would be gargantuan — loss of lives and livelihood — creating colossal human and financial burdens on families in the South East in particular. About thousands of people would lose their lives or maimed for life, leaving an indelible scare on their bodies, minds, and souls; transportation industry in the affected areas would grind to a halt, as well as loss of properties; goods and services.
Also, the financial institutions and insurance industry would be gravely impacted, resulting in uncontrollable inflation, and general economic disruption and dislocation of the affected regions. This would cause massive economic deterioration. The collapse would compound the utility loss and costs associated with public reaction and replacement, which may linger for generations.
Let us not forget that Niger Bridge is the only link by road between South East and Delta State, in the old Midwestern Region, and the South West as well as the North through Anambra State. That link will be broken, causing enormous economic disruption and dislocation for the entire South East and South South, albeit the old Eastern Region. Therefore, a mere possibility of the collapse of the Niger Bridge should be a heightened concern to everyone, particularly the Federal Government.
It should be the policy of the Federal Government to maintain and rebuild Nigeria’s infrastructure for continuous economic and human development. It is a sound domestic policy the policymakers and economic advisers should honestly embrace. The collapse of Niger Bridge will lead to the economic strangulation of the South East, thereby affecting industry and commerce in Nigeria, among other sectors, with unmitigated lurk behind severe unemployment and inflation.
As a result, many past administrations had promised to build the second Niger Bridge. To build a lasting legacy, President Goodluck Ebele Jonathan’s first 100 days in office should witness the actual signing of the contract to build the second Niger Bridge.
Mr President, it would be suicidal not to commence work immediately on the second Niger Bridge. Do not allow this inevitable catastrophe happen on the current Niger Bridge. Do not let it happen under your watch! The people desperately need your leadership on this matter.
Methinks it would be wise now to mobilize the National Assembly, Ministry of Works, Ministry of Transportation, and critical principals to action. The country has reached a critical mass, and the second Niger Bridge should be built without any further delay.
Many past administrations had made promises to build a second Niger Bridge and also dredge River Niger, but they failed the people. To show that this administration is different and means well for the people of the South East and South South, Mr President, must rise to the occasion, and act without equivocation.
Again, it is the moral obligation of the Federal Government to rebuild and maintain its infrastructure for economic viability, as well as economic growth of the nation. Perhaps, the buoyant economic benefits of the construction of the second Niger Bridge may spur a necessary action on this critical and life-saving project.
In any case, I dread the inevitable; the grim outlook. And the loss of human lives churns my stomach. I speculate that thousands of people, including babies and women would lose their precious lives in the event that Niger Bridge caves in. The despair that would accompany such loss of lives, including physical injuries, would be written indelibly on the faces of Nigerians, particularly on the souls of people from the South East, just like it was and still is after the Nigerian Civil War.
It will be a sad day for the nation. Perhaps, the sadness should be deep enough to emerge a rallying cause for Nigerians. But that is not my prayer. I abhor such calamity. I pray strongly against it, even though it has become inevitability. I feel strongly about the second Niger Bridge just like many other Nigerians. I contacted former Imo State Governor, Chief Ikedi Ohakim recently, and he shares the same sentiments.
In our conversation, speaking in a soft, but confident voice, Chief Ohakim assured that he would take the matter to President Goodluck Jonathan. Ohakim further reiterated — with humility — that infrastructural development is critical to a nation’s economic growth.
“Niger Bridge is the busiest link between the South East and Delta, Edo states in the South South, and the South West with enormous economic impact,” he opined. “I am assuring you, including Nigerians in the Diaspora and at home that I will take the second Niger Bridge matter to the Presidency, and I believe, he will listen,” Ohakim concluded.
I know many leaders of the South East and South South geopolitical zones of Nigeria feel the same way. And they yearn for a day that work will not only begin but be completed on the most important bridge yet unattended to in Nigeria.
Orabuchi, a public affairs analyst, writes from Texas, USA.
Acho Orabuchi
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
