By EMAMEH GABRIEL
On Tuesday, 18th March 2025, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu etched a decision into the annals of Nigeria’s history, invoking the powers conferred upon him by Section 305, Subsections 1, 2, and 3 (a-g) of the Constitution. In a move that sent ripples across the country’s political landscape, the President suspended Rivers State Governor Simi Fubara, his deputy Ngozi Odu, and the state House of Assembly for a period of six months. Consequence upon his action, he announced the appointment of sole administrator who will oversee the government and manage the affairs of the state until peace is fully restored.
The Constitution, in its wisdom, bestows upon the President a compendium of powers, rendering him, in effect, constitutionally powerful. This was no accident; the architects of the 1977 Constitution advocated for a strong presidency.
That said, whether the President’s actions were guided by noble intentions or shadowed by ulterior motives, history, in its impartial wisdom, will serve as the ultimate arbiter. Yet, to the discerning eye, it is evident that the President, with a single stroke, achieved what might be likened to falling two trees with one axe, a masterful act of political dexterity.
First, he astutely observed that both factions had turned the crisis into a high stakes chess game, heedless of the collateral damage inflicted upon the very people they were meant to serve. It became glaringly apparent that Fubara, despite his public assurances to abide by the Supreme Court’s ruling, was dragging his feet, unwilling or unable to act with the urgency the situation demanded. Thus, he left the President with no choice but to wield his authority like a seasoned general, bringing down the gavel to suspend both factions and halt the crisis from spiraling further into chaos.
Secondly, the President, with the foresight of a seasoned strategist, perceived that Fubara was unwittingly treading a perilous path, one littered with landmines and the whispers of misguided and selfish advisers. The House of Assembly had already set the stage for his impeachment, biding their time for the opportune moment to strike. The President’s intervention, therefore, not only thwarted the carefully laid plans of the pro-Wike lawmakers but gave Fubara a lifeline, rescuing him from the precipice of political oblivion.
In my opinion, President Tinubu’s actions were not merely a political maneuver; they were a safeguard, preserving not only Fubara’s career but also shielding Rivers State from the turmoil that would inevitably follow his ouster. The President stood up as both a mediator and a protector, steering the state away from the brink of disaster.
If Nigerians, especially those throwing tantrums on President Tinubu, step back from the fray and engage in sober reflection, they will see that at the heart of this controversy are two figures whose actions, and inactions, have sought to reduce Rivers State to a personal fiefdom, risking its very foundation in a blaze of ego and power struggles. Former Governor Nyesom Wike, the self styled political godfather of Rivers State, and his wayward godson, Simi Fubara, have, through their conduct, appeared more intent on carving up the state for their own ends than serving its people.
No thanks to Wike, who foisted Fubara upon the people of Rivers State. Since Fubara’s emergence, his tenure has been marred by needless and misguided political battles, which have overshadowed governance.
The incident in Rivers State is not merely a political skirmish; it is a microcosm of a deeper malaise that has plagued Nigeria’s governance for decades, godfatherism. This phenomenon, where political godfathers wield disproportionate influence over their anointed godsons, has become a corrosive force, undermining democracy, stifling development, and perpetuating a cycle of impunity. Rivers State, rich in resources and potential, has become a tragic example of how this toxic dynamic can bring a state to its knees. The state was a battleground, with governance taking a backseat to ego driven conflicts. Institutions were weaponised, public resources were squandered, and the people of Rivers State were left as mere spectators to a political drama that threatened to consume them.
Tell me, how could a man, who was elected to serve, to protect the state, its people, and its resources, march into a state assembly with 11 buldolzers and reduce it to rubble? Who does such a thing? How could a man, intoxicated by the allure of power, push through a state budget, a document that should reflect the collective will of over 30 lawmakers, with only three voices to endorse it? And then, as if that were not enough, he withheld their salaries and entitlements for nearly two years, boasting about it as though drunk on the bitter brew of hubris and impunity.
Governor Fubara has been whining about being denied the freedom to govern independently. But let’s cut through the noise: did he really think he could have his cake and eat it too? When Wike handed him the golden ticket to the governorship, did Fubara honestly believe it came without strings? Please. Even a rookie in the political game knows that godfathers don’t do charity, they invest, and they expect returns.
Fubara’s current theatrics are nothing but the predictable fallout of a deal he willingly signed up for. He saw the glittering throne, ignored the chains attached to it, and then, he was shocked, shocked! that Wike isn’t letting him off the leash.
Let’s be real: Fubara knew the rules of the game. He knew Wike wasn’t handing him the keys to the kingdom out of the goodness of his heart. Yet, like a starry-eyed apprentice, he walked into the lion’s den, only to realize too late that the lion wasn’t planning to share the feast.
I couldn’t help but chuckle yesterday as I watched Hon. Solomon Bob, a Rivers State House of Representatives member (PDP), spill the tea on Channels TV about Governor Fubara’s royal highness act. Apparently, Fubara has been strutting around with a pretentious, imperial swagger, acting like he is the emperor of Rivers State, lording it over fellow democratically elected officials. That audacity!
Bob revealed that just one month into his tenure, Fubara tried to pull a fast one by ousting the Speaker of the House of Assembly. When the lawmakers dared to resist his majesty’s decree, Fubara threw a tantrum fit for a toddler: he withheld their salaries and, in a move straight out of a demolition derby, reduced the House of Assembly complex to rubble. Talk about taking “if I can’t have it, no one can” to a whole new level!
Yet, Bob said, instead of holding Fubara accountable for his power tripping antics, everyone is running around like headless chickens, pointing fingers at Wike- let’s blame the godfather, because why hold the governor responsible for his own actions? After all, it is much easier to play the victim card than to admit you have been acting like a political tyrant with a chip on his shoulder.
President Tinubu’s decision to declare a state of emergency, though controversial, can be likened to the Doctrine of Necessity. The escalating tension had reached a boiling point, with the risk of widespread violence and a complete breakdown of law and order. The suspension of Governor Fubara, his deputy, and the state House of Assembly was not just a constitutional exercise of power; it was a desperate attempt to restore sanity to a state teetering on the brink of chaos.
The President’s actions, while drastic, were arguably justified by the circumstances. When elected officials abandon their official mandate to engage in petty power struggles, they forfeit the moral authority to govern. The people of Rivers State, who deserve peace and progress, were instead held hostage by the ambitions of a few.
Whether this chapter will end in redemption or ruin remains to be seen, but one thing is certain: the cost of godfathers and godsons is a burden borne by the people, and Rivers State may yet pay the price for their hubris.
Discussion about this post