Another Wike in Kogi. Rivers State Governor Sim Fubara is de-fanged, his wings clipped, while his Kogi counterpart Usman Ododo kneels submissively before his master. This disgusting behaviour captures Nigeria’s silly drama of godfather and godson, and demeans democracy. One word Mr Ododo says amiss or a foot put wrong, and we will have another Rivers on our hands.
By Ogochukwu Ikeje
As Nigerians gasp for breath amid choking cost of goods and services, a state governor in the south-south is de-fanged, his wings clipped, while his counterpart in the north-central kneels submissively before his master. Both developments, happening in Rivers and Kogi states, capture Nigeria’s silly drama of godfather and godson.
Now, a godfather, even in a political sense, is not necessarily an unlikeable fellow; he just happens to have gravitas and influence so his backing can make you king. But the political godfather of the Nigerian breed is much more than that. He does not fancy himself merely as a kingmaker. He is happy to make the king and also determine what shape or form the kingdom takes. He has his eyes on the till, and hands the chosen one a list of dos and don’ts. He makes huge demands, in kind or in cash or both, and as frequently as he desires. It is payback time. For, truth be told, the godfather often invests heavily in the godson hoping to reap much more than he sowed. It doesn’t matter if he is spending public funds he salted away while in office. If the anointed one succeeds the godfather, say, as state governor, it forecloses any probe of the previous government no matter how recklessly the godfather ran the state, or how much he stole.
And there are consequences if the godson steps out of line. Take the Rivers scenario. Everyone is familiar with the battle raging between Governor Sim Fubara and his predecessor Nyesom Wike who installed him. In fact, in his eight years as governor, Mr Wike, now minister of the federal capital territory, adequately prepared for life after Government House. He appointed all the council chairmen, all the commissioners and an army of men and women who hung around him and the seat of government. Then just before he bowed out last May, he appointed another 200,000 advisers to help him “finish strong”, as he put it. Indeed, installing Mr Fubara was to be the icing on the cake. But something went wrong. Did Mr Fubara say or do anything amiss? Did he renege on a promise? Or did Mr Wike get any intelligence that his godson was about to ditch the structure which the master warned him not to touch? It is hard to tell but what is not in doubt is that Mr Wike is intent on teaching the governor a lesson. Barely five months on the job, Mr Fubara’s government was in convulsion. Most of the members of the state House of Assembly appointed by Mr Wike dumped the governor’s party, leaving him with about four persons. The legislature was in turmoil with two factional speakers. What about the suspensions, counter-suspensions and court cases? Amid the crisis, explosions and fires damaged the legislative building, then bulldozers moved in to pull down the entire structure. Add to that the fact that police, said to be loyal to Mr Wike, shot at and water-cannoned the governor and a few people with him on their way to inspect the damages after the explosion and fires.
A peace meeting called by President Bola Tinubu reinstated the defecting lawmakers with full benefits, and required everyone to withdraw all court cases. But after signing the peace document, a court nullified the budget Mr Fubara signed with the few legislators who didn’t flee. Last week, a local council chairman, trying hard to act and sound like Mr Wike, publicly called Mr Fubara a foolish man. Also, the state Assembly now effectively controlled by the defectors has been turning the heat on the governor, questioning almost everything he does. Mr Fubara can’t effectively governor under these circumstances, and he knows that Mr Wike’s men can throw him out anytime.
While all this is happening in Rivers, another Wike could be evolving in Kogi. For eight years, Yahaya Bello held sway as governor. He does not dance like Mr Wike but he talks almost just as tough. He also loves the godfather role. Last November his anointed candidate Usman Ododo won the governorship election. Receiving his Certificate of Return, Mr Ododo walked over to his godfather seated among a crowd and knelt before him, bowing. Mr Bello lifted his right hand and patted him several times on the back as everyone watched. On Saturday when Mr Ododo and his deputy Joel Oyibo were sworn into office, Mr Oyibo, accompanied by his wife, walked to where Mr Bello was sitting with his wife and prostrated before Mr Bello. Mrs Oyibo also knelt.
This disgusting behaviour demeans democracy and mocks the offices the governor and his deputy occupy. One word Mr Ododo says amiss or a foot put wrong, and we will have another Rivers on our hands. Is this what Kogi people want?
