Opinion
To Whom Honour Is Due
Electricity power generation and distribution companies in Nigeria deserve to be congratulated for improved responsibility and social service in recent times. Litany of complaints against the distribution companies range from provocative billing system, inconsistent and unstable power supply, to aggressive and combative attitude towards consumers. There has been an improvement in electricity power supply in urban areas that had been without light for upward of two years. Neither does the current come in “half” as before.
While supply of prepaid metres to electricity consumers is still a distant dream, at least, for now “battle of the ladder” has abated, as well as stone-throwing at “those who come to disconnect light”. What is observable at the moment is an aggressive street-by-street revenue drive, to collect payment from “those who enjoy electricity but are reluctant to pay their bills”. But it is better to pay for regular and responsible power supply, than to cheat consumers by asking them to pay for non-existing electricity.
Load-shedding as a regulatory measure to ensure a balanced distribution of electricity contains a good lesson for everybody. Since all things are subject to the laws of nature, by which they are ordered in the best possible way, we learn the vital lesson of purging ourselves of excess accumulation of anything. Trees shed leaves, power distributors shed loads of current and all humans must also shed surpluses.
One of the indicators of immature and inferior souls in human societies is the accumulation of junks and excesses, ranging from unearned wealth, to relics of aggressive plunders and hunts as trophies. Therefore, any society where looting and plundering of public resources by individuals are the bases of wealth, such society is populated by inferior souls, even if such persons are great in the eyes of men. So, load-shedding as a practice in electricity distribution, conveys a message that Nature forces a similar reprisal on recalcitrant humans, when there is no voluntary purging of excesses.
Purging of excesses which also includes the purging of the conscience, known in literature as catharsis, can be voluntary or by compulsion. Load shedding implies that an individual must recognise the need to make changes and adaptations where accumulation of excess load puts extra burden of guilt on the conscience. In 1982, for example, a female undergraduate student in my class confessed that as an air hostess serving as a link in cocaine business she accumulated a great deal of wealth. She paid the fees of several indigent students as penance for her past follies.
Perhaps, the improved service delivery by electricity distribution companies may be the result of past tongue-lashing from embittered electricity consumers. Touched by such mass condemnation, the company now resolves to purge itself of past derelictions by turning a new leaf of improved services. There had been cases of angry consumers chasing away from their neighbourhood those who come to collect bill or disconnect power supply.
There is an old maxim that when an aspiring individual is ready, a guide always appears from within, to lead and place such individual into the path of recognition. In a similar way, when Nigeria as a nation is ready for a genuine change, deliverance would come from within, but first, there must be some purgation and cleansing. This may not involve “heads rolling” but the catharsis of the conscience. The path of discipline, for any individual, organisation or nation involves drinking the Water of Mara or walking the “road to Damascus”. There must be a cathartic or transforming experience.
One Viktor Frankl, a Jew, had a turning point in his life while in a Nazi detention camp. All his sad and humiliating experience, even as a physician, culminated in the development of the doctrine of Logotherapy which has to do with finding of meaning in life. Truly, life remains meaningless if an individual or nation is floating in the air, even if surrounded with wealth and power. Quest for the “Philosopher’s stone” or the process of alchemy which can turn base metal into gold, is the quest for meaning and transformation. It is passing through the eye of the needle; a task that must be done!
Activities and antics of the electricity generation and distribution companies tell the story of a nation in darkness. Humanity had passed through an era known as Dark Ages and similarly, nations also pass through some era of darkness. Such period or state of aberration usually comes about when, in the search for meaning, materialism is enthroned as the pillar and road-map of national project. William Wordsworth likened dark era as life “only dest for show”.
When a nation is passing through the era of darkness it is not often recognised or classified as such, but much later when sanity prevails, a post-mortem and objective assessment can be made with greater lucidity. According to a Russian philosopher, P.D. Ouspensky, the era of darkness usually begins with increased militarisation of the civil society, with life becoming a raw deal. Apart from organised, clever and audacious defence of acts of illegality and irresponsibility by state spin doctors, shameless statements accompany image laundering stunts.
Those who try to introduce helpful measures in a society in dark era are often visited with frustrations and disappointment as their reward. For Ouspensky, dark era is characterised by “the absence of all that is highest and most refined in human being; absence of vision, absence of the feeling of beauty, absence of the feeling of shame”. But Plato saw such era as an Oligarchy, “where it is wealth that counts and in which political power is in the hands of the rich, and the poor have no share in it”.
In the era of darkness, a few wise people speak up on public issues, but rarely have the opportunity to reshape political affairs. The state of anomie climaxes in scrambles for big positions, flamboyant titles, free consumption of national resources and with little to offer the nation. Public companies are sold away after being mismanaged and immunity provided for suppliers of electricity so that they cannot be sued for irresponsible service delivery. Let us give honour to those who wake up to their social responsibilities, even if late.
Dr. Amirize is a retired lecturer from the Rivers State University, Port Harcourt.
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
