Opinion
Supporting Youth Employment
All are agreed that one way of curbing youth restiveness is by the creation of job opportunities for them in order that their idle minds would not be turned to the devils workshop, as the saying goes.
Thus, the reduction of the number of unemployed youth is the driving force behind most government programmes like the imparting of entrepreneurial skills which the federal government ordered all tertiary institutions in the country to include in their curricula as a method of reducing the number of job seekers after graduation.
In fact, the jobs are not even there as infrastructural deficiency, among others, had been blamed for the relocation of industries to other West African countries where regular electricity could be guaranteed.
On the other hand, the commercial banks had been blamed for making access to credit very difficult to small and medium sized entrepreneurs, a factor which contributes to the killing of initiative by some young graduates.
As such any effort in the agricultural sector which has great multiplier effect through its numerous value chain and one which has been described as being capable of mopping up a majority of the unemployed youth, while at the same time, guaranteeing food security for the masses, should be encouraged.
Thus, the commitment of the Rivers State governor, Rt. Hon Chibuike Rotimi Amaechi to alleviating the suffering of the youth through establishment of agricultural enterprises aimed at giving direct employment and modern training in agricultural practices, should not be taken for granted, but rather given unflinching support.
It is in this wise that reports of vandalisation of a banana plantation by suspected youth in Sogho, Nyo-Khana Local Government Area of the State should be viewed. The State Commissioner for Agriculture, Mr. Emmanuel Chindah who confirmed this recently said the plantation was attacked by hoodlums last month while a massive investigation has been launched into the sordid development.
When the National Good Governance Team visited the plantation in the company of the State governor, the latter told his guests that the government agricultural programmes in Ogoniland were aimed at massive employment of the youth as a way of checking restiveness and militancy in the area. For instance, the banana plantation alone which is run by San Carlos Limited with an equity share of 60 per cent, while the State government retains the rest, could engage 4,000 youth directly, while many others could be engaged through the off-farm activities of the plantation.
The same goes for the Songhai farm for which the governor noted, “we did not establish it to make money, our interest is to train our people in commercial and mechanized farming… the people of this area are our target,” he said, but condemned the vandalisation of more than 10,000 banana plants. The Ogoni area is noted for its vast arable land which the government is attempting to tap into for the benefit of all.
But it is clear that if present tendencies continue the objectives for which government is making financial outlays in agriculture could be hampered in the absence of sustainable peace in the land. In fact to underline his resolve at employment generation for youth, Governor Amaechi while at Oyigbo for a town hall meeting challenged the local government chairman to provide 10,000 hectares of land for an agricultural project that would massively employ youth of the area gainfully.
There are also plan to revive the Delta Rubber Company in Okamoko Etche with the same intention of employment generation that would add value to the lives of the citizens. This is why the act of willful destruction, not only of government property, is condemnable in its entirety because it tends to impede the tempo of development and dim the vision of government toward the empowerment of the youth.
Though there may be difference between the proprietors of the vandalized farm and the community or between the latter and the government, wantonly destroying your own cannot get support from any quarters as there are other avenues for seeking redress.
There is a consensus that the people of Ogoni have suffered a lot of deprivation in the hands of oil exploiting and exploration firms which activities have spoiled their environment, making life difficult for the locals there. However, as we continue to impress on the Federal government and Shell Petroleum Development Company (SPDC), on the need to remediate the devastated Ogoniland and elsewhere even as agreed by the United Nations Environmental Project (UNEP), we call for patience from the good people of the area and implore them not to misdirect their anger on Rivers State government.
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
