Opinion
The First Ladyship Confusion
One thing many people admire about President Muhammadu Buhari’s wife, Aisha Buhari, is her boldness to speak out on any national issue that interests her without minding whose ox is gored. Often such action had incurred the wrath of some people in government towards her, who believe that, as the president’s wife, she ought not to hold contrary opinion to those of the government or the ruling party. But she has remained resolute and unruffled.
Not long ago, she uttered what could be considered as the mind of many Nigerians on the federal government’s Social Investment Programmes (SIP). She fiercely criticized the programme, saying it has failed, as there was little or no evidence to show that a good chunk of its budget was judiciously utilized. She reechoed many peoples’ opinions that the SIP, particularly the tradermoni and school feeding programmes are more of a political gimmick aimed at convincing the populace that the government in power is working to ameliorate the sufferings of the poor masses, when in reality, little or no evidence of such is seen.
I recall how in 2017, she raised alarm over the lack of facilities at the State House Clinic, Abuja. She revealed that the clinic lacked syringes, drugs and equipment needed for saving lives, despite the huge annual budgetary allocation for the clinic and demanded for a probe into the running of the clinic. Mrs Buhari also alerted the nation about the existence of a cabal which she said was frustrating the President’s efforts to function as expected.
Where I’m I going with all these? Just trying to establish that Mrs Buhari is fearless, outspoken and wants the right thing to be done at all times. In view of that, one will, therefore, wonder how thoughtful was the recent pronouncement of the First Lady. At an event at the Presidential Villa last week, she announced her decision to be addressed as the First Lady of the Federal Republic of Nigeria instead of Wife of the President that has been her title since her husband assumed office in 2015.
Hear her, “When my husband was elected newly I personally chose to be called the wife of the President.
“But, I realised that it causes confusion from the state as to whether the wives of state governors are to be addressed as the first ladies or wives of the governors.
“So, forgive me for confusing you from the beginning, but now I choose to be called the First Lady,” she said.
Though there ought to be no big deal about the change in nomenclature, the First Lady’s decision and the reason for that came as a surprise to some people, particularly as there is no record of any state where there is confusion as to the title of the governor’s wife. Besides, during the 2015 election campaign, Mrs Buhari’s husband promised to abolish the Office of the First Lady. He said the office was unconstitutional and that the Ministry of Women Affairs should be allowed to play its role unhindered.
The questions then are, has there been any law legalizing the Office of the First Lady? Is the position now recognized by Nigeria’s Constitution? President Buhari is a man seen by many as a man of impeccable integrity. Is the First Lady now telling us that such belief must change because her husband cannot even keep his campaign promises? Apparently, this is the main confusion. The First Lady is confusing us on what to believe about her husband and his ability to keep his words.
So, in as much as one agrees that Mrs Buhari has the right to bear whatever title she chooses, it will be proper that, in her usual way of doing things, she should work towards the legalization of the office.
As a new National Assembly has just come on board, she should sponsor a bill seeking for the legalization of the office so as to lay to rest all the legal issues surrounded the enviable, prestigious and privileged position. No doubt, such bill will be given speedy hearing and express passage into law, coming from Buhari’s wife.
Alternatively, she can convince her husband to make a pronouncement on the matter, stating that though the office is not known by our constitution, if a president’s wife prefers to go by the title, as is the case in many other countries, she is free to do so.
But be that as it may, it is hoped that the First Lady and the ones coming after her should really use that position to better the lots of the masses as is being done in other climes. She should faithfully and dutifully carry out her function as a wife and mother not only to her immediate family, Adamawa and Katsina but to the entire nation.
She should spread her humanitarian activities to other parts of the country. There are poor people in every part of the country, both North and South; they all should feel her impact equally.
In the past, some First Ladies, like late Miriam Babangida, through her pet-project, Better Life for Rural Women, made a great impact in the lives of both urban and rural women across the nation. The project was a household name that has not been forgotten by many women till date.
That is what is expected of Mrs Buhari’s pet-project, Future Assured. Let the citizens know about this project and what it stands for. Let the handlers of this project reach out to the target beneficiaries, which should have a national spread and let the project come alive. As it is today, only a handful of persons who are most likely from one section of the country can boast of knowing about Future Assured.
So, although the position of the first lady is not elected or constitutional but seen as an appendage of her husband in most jurisdictions, many of these women perform invaluable and indispensable social functions. Our President’s wife and governors’ wives should not slack in performing these duties which will better our society irrespective of their titles, be it First Ladies, Wife of the President/Governors or whatever.
Calista Ezeaku
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
