Opinion
Between Journalism And Sophistry
An old familiar oddity states that it is a dangerous
thing to fall into the hand of the gods.
This is because a man or community lost to the punitive grip of the unknown plays around in a torrent of untold visitation from the realm of the spirits in an orgy of psychopathetic obsession.
The victim is always enmeshed in a tangle of miserable self-pity.
The end result is of often fatal and warped in a sense of villainy and faded glory.
But it is even more dangerous to fall into the hands of the media.
The media tends to have a potency that surpasses that of the gods. And every niggling topical issue provides a platform for the media to explore its institutional strength.
The media within the context of this write up is centred on the print and social media.
The media is mostly associated with the roles of journalists in a given society.
This borders on the institutional responsibilities of journalists in the co-ordination of human relations through a gatekeeping role that makes him an umpire, a dispassionate leader of public opinion.
This brings to bear the importance of columns in journalism. The essence of instinctive journalism and agenda setting is shown in the roles that reporters and columnists play.
Media duties are vast and involving as it has a diverse and designative mode of operation.
The reporter is guided by journalism ethics to place his reports on the principles of objectivity rather than selectivity. He is expected to abide by the notion that facts are sacred, and do justice to every shed of opinion in a given report.
But columnists have a pattern of delivery that gives them the ample leverage to bear their exclusive opinion on issues. Columnists command great societal influence because of their critical approach and comments on issues.
They also stand the temptation of veering off the track of objective criticism for sophistry.
A sophist’s point of view is mostly impressionistic. He engages in an endless search for verbosity, and he indulges in voyages intended to massage the ego of his paymasters.
It is not uncommon that most journalists metamorphose into sophists and casuists, and that is not unconnected with the fact that sophistry offers a veritable platform for second income and juicy financial gratifications.
When a journalist turns a sophist, he looses touch with his journalistic calling and his public credibility is also at stake, but he plays into the heart of his newfound bedfellows, the aristocratic class and power players, a romance that swells a cosmetic sense of elevation.
But when his briefs are over and he is eventually dumped by his paymasters, he revolts implacably against the same system he had persistently eulogized.
A sophist’s pattern of delivery is also centred on subjective injunctions embellished in flattery and platonic gestures.
He glides on a surrogate partisan romance through a disguise but clearly inclusive order.
Such subjective writings, however, breed mutual antagonism and triggers reactions and offers a dramatic war of letters among sophists at various levels of engagements, as they lock horns to pacify their paymasters.
Sophists are fully aware of the social reality that nervous half truths often gets detected, but in most cases proper whoppers seldom do, and they cling to the latter as a potent instrument of pressing home their points of arguments.
This does not imply that the outcome of sophistry are often lies but they are billed to satiate the whims and caprices of handlers through the deceptive warmth and treasures of their renditive artistry.
Societal loss swells the personal gains of the unguarded sophist, and of course it is a dangerous thing to fall into the hands of a public writer determined to engage in a war of calumny.
It takes a ‘counter commissioning’ of some measure to douse the tendencies.
Thus, the level of financial involvement determines the savagery. In Nigeria today, the lessions from the extremities of deception of campaigns of sophistry are too glaring to be ignored.
Political scavengers now find escape routes through the brinkmanship of engaged sophists, while the latter gets a financial turn around dealing with the discomfort of the privileged, at the expense of the ordinary citizens.
Our dailies today are laden with unpleasant publicities targeted at political enemies in a perfectionist orgy cloned in contempt and a taste of vulgarity, making the process combustible and yoked under the batter of wits.
These moral malfascences are committed by the very people whose calling are to write to shape the society.
The political exigencies in the country today provides platforms for all manners of people including social media hackers to let loose their tantrums on the polity.
There are those genuinely concerned about the state of the nation.
There are those who take advantage of the political crisis to play into limelight in most banal and unpatriotic measure, that sustains the lingering points of divergence in the polity rather than bridging the gaps.
Many people who are not resident in Rivers State paints pictures of a collapsing society in their writing.
They fantasize on the situation and mimic it in series akin to medieval fiction.
But he who feels it knows it all. Rivers people alone feel the real pulse of the situation.
Despite the uncertainties, Rivers people are enthusiastic and pursuing life with unstoppable vigour, leaving their collective destiny in the conscience of time to unfold their true position in national reckoning.
Taneh Beemene
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
