By Abdul Ganiyu Abdul Lateef
Before the emergence of Seyi Makinde, political power across Ibadan—particularly within the eleven local governments—was largely determined by surnames and lineage. It was always ọmọ Fìjábì ni, ẹ̀yàn Aríṣèkólá ni, Bàbá Adébíbù ló yàn etc. One’s father was a former local government chairman; another was once a local government secretary, and so on.
Once these individuals clinched power—even at the ward level—they never wanted to leave. Instead, they recycled authority through their children, relatives, or close allies. This cycle repeated itself for decades, until the emergence of Seyi Makinde.
I recently reflected on federal appointments linked to Oyo State and observed that, even in death, we are still worshipping political dynasties. The Ajimobi name, for instance, remains prominent: allies of the father still dominate; a son became a Special Adviser to the President; the wife will be serving as an ambassador; the father was a senator and a two-term governor; and the grandfather was once a member of the Oyo State House of Assembly.
I may not necessarily have an issue with this lineage itself, but I do have a serious concern with the sense of entitlement that accompanies these inherited names (in this context I am not directly referring to the names I mentioned).
This is precisely why many members of the political elite cannot tolerate Seyi Makinde, and also why he continues to enjoy the confidence of the masses. It is equally the reason he will remain a guiding force toward 2027 and beyond.
Perhaps political inheritance cannot be completely eradicated. After all, everyone has the right to aspire to whatever they choose to become. However, before the emergence of Seyi Makinde, I often found myself asking: What was my own father doing that he did not build a political name in Ibadan for me to inherit? Perhaps life would have been easier (I know you are about to ask).
Today’s Ibadan tells a different story. Sons and daughters of nobody now hold political offices. People are more confident to contest without fear or intimidation. In fact, while money remains important, it is no longer the sole determinant of becoming an aspirant or candidate.
Not everyone will receive a political appointment. Not everyone will reap the rewards of their labour immediately. However, the new political reality I see is this: consistency and loyalty matter. God answers prayers, and everyone will eventually receive what is rightfully theirs.
As we approach 2026, a year that will determine the next four years (2027–2031), every Nigerian must pay attention. Whether you are a politician or part of the masses; whether you vote or not; even if you reside abroad but hold a Nigerian passport—the decisions made by a few will directly affect your life.
It is crucial to follow every stage of the political process: party executive selections and elections at all levels, party primaries, and the general elections. These processes will shape our collective future. A single wrong step at any stage can damage our lives.
We have previously made the mistake of surrendering our future entirely into the hands of politicians and allowing a small elite to convert politics into a family inheritance. If we continue this way, our country may never improve.
Seyi Makinde has done his part by giving us a voice.
Now, it is your turn and mine to challenge the status quo.
I have resolved not to sit aside and wait for “Bàbá sọ pé” or “wọ́n sọ pé Bàbá sọ pé.”
I urge you to do the same.
Irrespective of party affiliation:
Àgódì kì í ṣe ilé bàbá ẹnikẹ́ni.
Abújá kì í ṣe ogún bàbá ẹnikẹ́ni.
Ibadan, Oyo state and Nigeria belong to all of us
ABDUL GANIYU ABDUL LATEEF OLANREWAJU writes from Oluyole Local Government, Ibadan, Oyo state
