Opinion
Niger Delta: Between Ministry And NDDC
There is no disputing the fact that the challenges of developing the Niger Delta are enormous and perhaps intimidating. This gargantuan task, no doubt, requires the concerted efforts of all stake holders. The indications are that the Federal Government understands this, which explains why it adopted a multi-faceted strategy in tackling the challenges, realising that it is not an undertaking for only one or two development agencies. The justification, of course, is that undoing the damage wrought by decades of neglect and injustice would need team work.
Thus, the creation of the Ministry of Niger Delta Affairs tallies with the reasoning that all hands must be on deck to fast-track the development of the region that produces the oil-wealth of the nation. The ministry was supposed to lead and co-ordinate the infrastructural and environmental development as well as the youth empowerment programmes of the Federal Government in the region.
Despite this good intension, the ministry took off amidst controversies and apprehensions. Those who had reservations about the ministry feared that it would add another avoidable layer of bureaucracy to the effort at speeding up the development of the Niger Delta. However, those who supported its creation were hopeful that it would attract additional funds and expertise for the rapid development of the region.
A lot of premium was placed on the advantage of having two ministers who, as members of the Federal Executive Council would have a platform to articulate the development needs of the Niger Delta. Those who were still not convinced were told that the ministers would have easy access to Mr. President to ensure that he never loses sight of the Niger Delta question.
Today, however, the story appears to be different. The ministry which many had thought was coming to add value to the fortunes of the region is now confirming the worst fears of critics who predicted that it would slow down rather than enhance the activities of the Niger Delta Development Commission (NDDC) that it was supposed to complement.
This is contrary to the general expectations that the ministry and the NDDC would team up to implement the Niger Delta Regional Development Master Plan. This unpleasant turn of events is, to say the least, shocking. You can be sure that political and community leaders who had justified the creation of the ministry are not amused.
Most people in the region had thought that a massive inflow of funds would follow the creation of the ministry to translate the lofty goals of the Master Plan into projects and programmes that would make significant impact on the lives of the people of the oil-bearing communities spread across the Niger Delta region. In fact, some people had suggested a Marshall Plan approach in addressing the developmental challenges in the region.
It is rather sad that this has not happened. To make matters worse, the ministry appears to be in a contest for superiority in its relationship with the NDDC. While other stake holders are looking up to them to play a leading role in coordinating the implementation of the widely applauded Master Plan, the ministry seems intent on bringing NDDC under its control. The power tussle is uncalled for and the ministry should know that it was not put in place to reinvent the wheel. Basically, it was created to add more impetus to the activities of other agencies of government that are already on ground and partnering with them for the benefit of the region.
Senator Ndoma-Egba, a strong voice in the Upper Legislative House of the National Assembly, puts it this way: “My understanding of the decision by the executive to create a ministry for the Niger-Delta was to empower it to help in the infrastructural development of the area in addition to, not as a replacement for ,what the NDDC is doing.”
Another lawmaker, representing Warri Federal constituency in the House of Representatives, Hon. Daniel Reyenieju, noted that the commission was established by an Act of Parliament. “On no account should the commission be merged with the ministry because the Niger Delta Ministry was created by an executive fiat while the commission came to life via an Act of Parliament which is far stronger than that of the ministry,” he said.
Again, the ministry should be conscious of the fact that up to this day, many people still believe that it is a superfluous political contraption. Only recently, for instance, the former Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Mallam Nasir el-Rufia said “the creation of the Niger Delta Ministry is a political gesture and unnecessary bureaucracy that will fail to solve the problems facing the troubled region.”
Unfortunately, the ministry seems to be preoccupied with annexing more powers and extending its spheres of influence, especially over other statutory agencies. The Minister of Niger Delta Affairs, Elder Godsday Orubebe, has never hidden his disdain for an autonomous NDDC. He has argued at every opportunity that the commission should be supervised by his ministry.
Here is what he said in a recent interview published in a national newspaper: “There is no correlation between the NDDC and the Niger Delta Ministry. If you go and attend a meeting anywhere in the world, people are talking to you about the NDDC, people are talking to you about development and as a minister, you have little or no information about what the NDDC is doing; does that present any meaningful reasoning? A minister of the Niger Delta should be able to tell development partners and whoever that is concerned what is being done by the NDDC. But today, there is no correlation.”
The minister is right in insisting on collaboration between his ministry and the NDDC. But who or what are the hindrances to this very necessary partnership? Before the ministry came on board, the NDDC had already set up a clearing house called the Partners for Sustainable Development (PSD) Forum. This important organ brings together representatives of federal and state governments of oil-bearing states, youth and women leaders, traditional rulers as well as the organized private sector, civil society, the mass media and international development agencies such as the UNDP and the World Bank. Its main function is to ensure that the developmental activities in the Niger Delta by all stakeholders are synchronized. This important organ is all that the ministry needs to key into the development programmes of the region.
Indeed, it is surprising that the ministry has not adopted the Master Plan facilitated by the NDDC as its own road map, since the Federal Government gave its blessings for the production of the comprehensive plan. The 15-year period of the plan must not be allowed to run out without any significant impact on the Niger Delta.
There is no need for this distractive schism in what should be a collective effort to rescue Niger Deltans from the pits of squalor and want. The Act setting up the NDDC clearly puts the supervision of the commission directly under the President. Note, not under the Presidency. This means that there are no obstructive go-between for the commission and the President to ensure expeditious implementation of decisions. The framers of the law were conscious of the fact that the interventionist agency must be freed of all the encumbrances of ministries which are usually weighed down by bureaucratic red tape.
Part II, Section 7 of the Niger Delta Development Commission (Establishment) Act 2000 states that: “The Commission shall be subject to the direction, control or supervision in the performance of its functions under this Act by the President, Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of the Federal Republic of Nigeria.”
Royal fathers in the region, under the aegis of Association of Traditional Rulers of Oil Mineral Producing Communities of Nigeria, have given their wise counsel to President Goodluck Jonathan on this matter. Their warning: “Don’t contemplate merging the commission with the ministry. Such action will be detrimental to the entire people of the area.”
The urgent task now is to secure more finds for the full implementation of the Master Plan for the region. There is enough room for both the ministry and the NDDC to operate and collaborate for the benefit of Niger Deltans.
Agbu, a seasoned journalist, writes from Port Harcourt.
Ifeatu Agbu
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
