Opinion
On Professional Apologists
Damage-control mechanism in modern statecraft employs the services of professional apologists, whose task is to put embittered public and “doubting Thomases” in good humour. Even if the strategy is meant to achieve a momentary reprieve, the idea is to gain some understanding and time to be able to come up with more lasting strategies. Professional apologists are not ordinary public relations experts; rather, they are establishments’ spin-doctors who are capable of lying like truth. Smooth operators!
Usually drawn from the ranks of senior security and intelligence operatives, professional apologists are tutored in statecraft as additional skill. Their roles are not only to explain away establishments’ follies and failures, but more to build public confidence and revamp drooping morale of a long-bamboozled public. The more adept among professional apologists add the toga of priesthood or ecclesia, as a part of their working accoutrements. Cosmetic geniality!
Rather than the old-fashioned strategy of bullying and bluffing or bashing of heads in military and macho style, modern damage-control measures now bear some human face. Rather than “do this and that, with immediate effect and alacrity”, the new trend would be as follows: “Please try to understand the position of government and the state of the country”; “other nations have worse challenges than ours; by God’s grace we will overcome our challenges; just play your own part and cooperate with the government …”
For a long time in Nigeria, snakes and rodents had been in the ready services of professional and freelance apologists. Yes, electricity supply in the country was a failure because of the mischief of giant snakes that made Kainji Dam their place of abode. Kainji Dam, a hydro-electric power station, was responsible for power-generation but snakes sabotaged the efforts of expert electrical engineers, resulting in power outage. Some consultants suggested the use of snake-charmers to resolve the jinx! Voodoo Politics!
As for snakes swallowing huge sums of money from establishments’ strongrooms, that strategy became a failed apology. Similarly, that the office of a president could be assailed by audacious rodents and gnats, also became an old-fashioned apologia. Neither is it still fashionable to use “brown envelopes” and big sticks to make audacious journalists report that white is black, or black is white, as ordered. The evidence is clearer that Nigerians are becoming increasingly better informed and also restive.
Damage-control stunts are legitimate strategies of healing wounds and applying first aid as palliative measures of appeasement. But some smart fellows soon found ways of undermining the use of plaster and sedative in damage-control business. The idea was to bloat and exaggerate existing damage for the purpose of increases and more rapid flow of security vote. They succeed and then smile to the banks, while the nation bleeds economically. How come there are “false IDP camps” and other financial black-holes!
There are various gossips that the Boko Haram insurgency is a money-spinning, even though risky, business. From foreign consultants and negotiators, to local collaborators and suppliers of weapons and food, the Boko Haram national damage now has damage-control consultants and apologists. There are those telling Nigerians that Boko Haram insurgents are not terrorists but estranged citizens who are embittered because of the attitude taken towards them. They demand reintegration and rehabilitation, coupled with Presidential Amnesty Programme, to forgive and empower them.
Another brand or species of professional apologists are some faceless groups of persons and interest groups who play advocacy roles for the establishment. There are apologists who defend the right of cattle to eat grass wherever grass grows, even in farmlands. Other apologists specialise in prevarication and equivocation, defending obviously indefensible situations, actions and utterances of some people in power. An example is the suggestion about recruiting millions of Nigerians into the Army, which an apologist quickly came up to apply some balm upon. Careless talk?
With reference to the President of Nigeria, Buhari, travelling to Britain for whatever reason, Nigerians have been entertained with different kinds of apologia, pointing towards the justification of not handing over power officially to the Vice President, even temporarily as provided by the constitution. We are told that a President could operate from anywhere, as if governance is not guided by definite rules!
Purposes of damage-control activities especially in governance include correcting erroneous statements emanating from official angle, or correcting wrong impressions which such statement would have created. Sincere damage-control palliatives go with the application of the balm of Gilead to heal the ills of an ailing nation, but rustic apologists often add some hidden agenda. It is the value-added tax in damage-control stunts which falls in the domain of professional apologists. The diet is easy to ingest but hard to digest.
An eternal code of conduct in damage control business is as follows: “even though the news be sad, yet, tell it merrily”. Medical personnel know this professional code so well that they apply it by way of reassuring and giving courage and confidence even to a dying patient, that all is well. It works! In academic research circle this damage-control strategy is known as placebo effect, whereby drooping faith and confidence are boosted by means of psychological conditioning and pep-talks. Sports team managers are usually experts in this strategy of morale-boosting.
On the other hand, fear which can arise from threat or sight of horrow, can reduce and undermine the confidence or faith which an individual has. Diabolical practice of witchcraft use fear to undermine personal immunity, but positive practice of damage-control work on human morale and volition as strategic weapons of victory in situations hard to deal with. The strategy has a tonic effect on individuals and governments.
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
