Opinion
Politicking Without Programmes?
Before a race begins, contestants in the sprint must prepare, strategise and map out goals. So it is with the race for an election victory. In this contest, politicians declare their interest in contesting various offices. Many of them showcase parochial reasons they are entitled to the elective positions they seek to occupy. Sadly, this set of politicians often fail to talk about their social and economic programmes vis-à-vis the development of the nation.
It is disappointing that many of them lack programmes to show, even less than six months to election. They neither present their manifestoes nor blueprints in terms of specific programmes they have for the electorate. Rather they engage in politics of political alignment by cross-carpeting from one political party to another. This occurs when candidates are expected to offer themselves to the electorate and talk about concrete plans of what they will do if voted into power.
Electorate in this country deserve to know what each candidate has to offer in specific areas of education, health, social infrastructure, sports, economic policy, agriculture etc and not in empty speeches that lack substance. Development as a nation will be greatly enhanced if better opportunities are created particularly in the agricultural sector where Nigeria can utilise her enormous human resource potentials. It is necessary for our politicians to realise that agriculture has a pivotal role in job creation. Any politician, who does not have it at the core of campaigns, should not be taken seriously.
Lack of co-ordinated or proper programmes to present to the electorate has caused many politicians to take to violence in order to impose themselves on the people, who ordinarily are wont to reject them. Because of their satanic activities whereby many of them would rather die than not be elected, some decent persons, potential leaders, have been scared stiff into concluding that politics is a dirty game. But l dare contradict them. Politics is not a dirty game. Although it seems so in the Nigerians context. The fact that politics involves the shaping and sharing of offices and national cake, deciding who gets what and award of contracts, a power that has been severely abused, does not make it dirty. Rather it is those who brazenly abuse it that are dirty.
It is unfortunate that the quest for political leadership in this country has had the extravagant misfortune of making politics an inherently fierce battle between the nation builders on the one hand, and the pocket builders on the other hand. The former are concerned with promoting rapport in the society, building and enhancing the socio-economic development of the state, whereas the latter are interested in divide- and-rule tactics, and looting the state treasury to enable them build their supposed empires.
Unfortunately, in our political scenario, the nation builders are very few. Our politics is dominated by the very programmeless, flamboyant and pocket builders. These dirty-minded politicians in their covert battle to conquer many of their personality problems, end up polluting the nation’s political fountain through their unethical practices.
Our democratic system gives an unlimited scholarship to all Nigerians who have attained the age of 18 and above to participate in political decisions. By exercising their constitutional rights of franchise these ones could decide who rules them. Thus democracy is good enough in so far as it allows qualified individuals to seek elective posts and to vote for candidates of their choice. It gives equal opportunities to both the nation and pocket builders to seek elective posts as well. But because of poverty, the electorate is often blinded by party considerations and therefore is unable to discern the nation builders from the pocket hirers.
Usually the pocket builders who are without programmes for the people, come to power. And when that happens the nation’s treasury is looted. Their pockets are lined to the brim while their hearts and heads are empty. The ordinary citizens, the wretch of the earth, suffer tremendous deprivation and all manner of injustices in their hands.
In order to obviate such unpleasant situations, it is imperative that we put a stop to it now. We must be more meticulous in choosing who leads us. Efforts must be geared towards discerning the nation builders from the pocket lines through the quality of programmes they present to the electorate. By this their intentions, their inner desires to line their pockets with the resources meant for the people, will be deciphered.
Arnold Alalibo
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
