Let me state from the outset that I once admired Governor Seyi Makinde, Oyo State’s Chief Executive Officer since 2019, and invested enormous hope in his administration.
I defended him in private conversations, argued his case in political circles, engaged his critics in the traditional and social media and repeatedly stuck out my neck at public fora, convinced that his emergence would herald a new era in the governance of our dear state.
My optimism was not without reason. Makinde, who became governor at 51, was the second-youngest civilian governor of the state since the Second Republic, after the late Dr Omololu Olunloyo, who assumed office at 48. I believed that his relative youth, engineering background, private-sector experience and apparent appetite for innovation would combine to usher in a refreshing departure from the old order.
Indeed, Governor Makinde started on a promising note. Even his most implacable critics would struggle to dismiss his early enthusiasm for infrastructure renewal and his ambition to reposition the state for more development. There were visible interventions and bold pronouncements that suggested as an administration eager to make its mark.
But enthusiasm is not the same as competence, just as grand ambition is no substitute for sound economic judgment. With time, the gulf between the governor’s promises and the realities on the ground became increasingly difficult to ignore.
Take, for instance, the much-celebrated Light Up Oyo State project. During the launch of its second phase in Ogbomosho, I publicly questioned the economic wisdom of illuminating streets with diesel-guzzling generators at a time when governments elsewhere were embracing more sustainable and cost-effective energy solutions.
The governor and the contractor defended the initiative, explaining that the streetlights would be smart and incorporate Wi-Fi facilities and CCTV cameras to enhance connectivity, monitoring and security surveillance. It was an attractive proposition, at least on paper. Although I remained sceptical about its economic viability, I gave the administration the benefit of the doubt.
However, years later, the promised Wi-Fi facilities and the CCTV cameras have not become visible features of the streetlighting infrastructure across the state. The administration owes the people of the state a credible explanation of what became of the assurances and how the enormous expenditure on the project can be justified.
For a project associated with a staggering ₦128 billion expenditure, the questions are too weighty to be dismissed with the usual political rhetoric. What precisely did taxpayers receive for their money? Where are the promised technological components? What measurable economic and security benefits have accrued to the state?
Until these questions are satisfactorily answered, the project will remain, in my estimation, a troubling illustration of the distance between political grandstanding and responsible governance.
History is an unforgiving chronicler. It records not merely what leaders promise, but what they accomplish, what they squander and what they leave behind. As the curtain gradually falls on Makinde’s eight-year administration, the verdict of history is already taking shape.
But infrastructure and public expenditure are only part of the story. There is an even more consequential dimension to the Makinde political enterprise: his apparent misreading of the forces that brought him to power and the historical dynamics that determine electoral victory in Oyo State.
A little historical excursion is necessary here. In 2019, Engineer Seyi Makinde, then the governorship candidate of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), emerged victorious largely on the strength of a formidable opposition coalition painstakingly assembled by influential political actors, with Senator Rashidi Ladoja playing a pivotal role.
That coalition was neither accidental nor inconsequential. It represented a convergence of political interests, structures and personalities united by a common determination to dislodge the incumbent political establishment.
Yet, in the years since his victory, Makinde and some of his political courtiers have sought to diminish the significance of that alliance, creating the impression that his personal popularity and political ingenuity alone delivered the governorship to him.
Nothing could be farther from the political reality of Oyo State. Indeed, the history of governorship elections in the state since 2003 offers compelling lessons about the decisive influence of political alliances, elite consensus and coalition-building.
In 2003, the Fortune Group, of which Makinde himself was a member, played an important role in the political realignments that facilitated Rashidi Ladoja’s emergence as governor. The convergence of politicians from different tendencies around the PDP, against the backdrop of the political understanding between President Olusegun Obasanjo and influential figures within the Alliance for Democracy in the South-West, helped shape the electoral outcome.
The 2007 governorship election unfolded under a different but equally instructive political configuration. President Obasanjo’s infamous do-or-die political posture and the formidable influence of the federal establishment provided significant political advantages to Adebayo Alao-Akala, who eventually emerged victorious.
Then came 2011, when another consequential political realignment altered the balance of power in the state. A broad coalition of influential political figures, particularly from Ibadan, rallied behind Senator Abiola Ajimobi. Prominent personalities and political interests previously associated with Alao-Akala, including figures linked to the political establishment of the late Alhaji Abdulazeez Arisekola Alao, gravitated towards Ajimobi’s camp.
That coalition ultimately helped terminate Alao-Akala’s tenure at the Agodi Government House and ushered in the Ajimobi administration.
The lesson from these electoral episodes is unmistakable: in Oyo State, political victories are seldom the products of individual brilliance alone. They are frequently the culmination of strategic alliances, negotiated interests, grassroots mobilisation and the ability to accommodate diverse political tendencies.
It is a lesson Governor Makinde appears determined not to learn. The irony is particularly striking. A politician who benefited immensely from coalition politics now seems to underestimate the potency of the very instrument that facilitated his ascent to power.
If the familiar warning that those who fail to learn from history are condemned to repeat it holds true, then Makinde may be preparing himself for one of the most painful political lessons of his career.
Either he lacks the political binoculars to discern the formidable coalition gradually taking shape against his interests, or he has chosen to pretend that all is well in order to keep the dwindling ranks of his political loyalists from abandoning his foundering ship. Neither possibility inspires confidence in his political judgment.
The warning signs are becoming increasingly difficult to conceal. Political associates who once swore allegiance to him are reconsidering their loyalties. Appointees are taking their leave. Former allies are finding common ground and trust in the aspiration of Senator Sharafadeen Alli of the APC, while erstwhile political adversaries are discovering the advantages of collective action.
Yet the governor appears to be conducting himself like a gambler who believes that the next throw of the dice will somehow reverse his mounting losses. Therein lies the fundamental weakness of his political calculations.
Politics, particularly in Oyo State, is not a game that can be won indefinitely through personal wealth, executive patronage or the assumption that every political actor has a price. Money may purchase temporary loyalty, but it cannot manufacture enduring conviction. Patronage may attract opportunists, but it cannot substitute for genuine political relationships.
And power, however intoxicating, has an expiry date.Those who surround Makinde today may flatter his ego, applaud his decisions and assure him that his political machinery remains impregnable. But the history of Nigerian politics is littered with powerful men who mistook the cheers of beneficiaries for the loyalty of committed followers.
The applause often disappears the moment the privileges cease. Indeed, I suspect that some of those still clinging to the governor’s political apron strings are merely waiting for the anticipated election windfall before revealing where their true loyalties lie.
By the time Makinde discovers that political loyalty cannot be permanently sustained by the distribution of favours, the game may already have been lost.
There is an enduring lesson in the Yoruba political wisdom that a leader who insists on eating alone may eventually find himself standing alone when the feast is over.
Governor Makinde would do well to reflect on that lesson. For a man who rose to power on the shoulders of a coalition, his apparent preference for political exclusivity may prove to be his greatest undoing.
He may control the purse strings today. He may command the machinery of government and enjoy the deference that accompanies executive power. But none of these advantages guarantees him control over the political future of Oyo State.
The approaching 2027 elections will test not only the strength of his political structures but also the wisdom of his choices, the durability of his alliances and the limits of his influence.
And if the emerging political realignments are anything to go by, the governor may soon discover that the political table has turned against him.
For now, Makinde continues to place his bets, apparently convinced that he can outwit history, outspend his opponents and dictate the political future of the state.
But history has a peculiar way of humbling gamblers who mistake temporary advantage for permanent supremacy. The stakes are rising. The odds are changing. And the house may no longer be on his side.
Makinde may keep raising the stakes, but he risks discovering, too late, that in the game of political power, not every gambler breaks even.
To be continued…
