-By Abdul Mahmud
Obasanjo has a singular talent for driving the blade deep into our country’s conscience. No former president wields words like him: pointed, layered, unflinching. To him, no subject is sacred. No figure, too revered. He dissects them all with the precision of a surgeon and the courage of a prophet. His commentary is never casual; it is always an incision that reveals the rot beneath. And yet, therein lies the paradox. For every truth he unveils, a shadow of himself appears silent and self-incriminating. His insights often sting not because they are false, but because they echo with the ghosts of his own complicity. Obasanjo holds up the mirror to our country, but his reflection too stands in the frame.
Last week, the media echoed Obasanjo’s voice far and wide: “Those in power today are only concerned about the next election, not the next generation.” A simple sentence. Yet, it struck like thunder. It wasn’t just a criticism. It was a verdict. A stinging indictment of the smallness that defines our politics. In those few words, he laid bare the rot at the heart of our leadership. He revealed the depth of a crisis that our country has long normalised. While his words are the stones thrown at glasshouses, or made for applause or headlines, they are a wake-up call. A rough shaking from the dream of indifference. A call to reckon with who rulers of our country are becoming and what our country may soon lose if the rulers continue this way. He forces rulers to look beyond manifestos and microphones. To face the hollow out bottom of our national purpose. His voice, like a prophet’s, disturbs. And rightly so.
Today, in our country, leadership has drifted far from its noble roots. It is no longer a call to serve, it has become the crab-like scramble for political survival. Tenure has replaced transformation. Power, not purpose, drives the engine of governance. Those who rule do so with eyes fixed on the next election, not the next generation. They govern with fear, not foresight; with calculation, not conviction. The idea of legacy has been replaced by the hunger for control. There is no dream, only strategy. No roadmap, only insidious ambition. Our rulers no longer plant trees whose shades they may never sit under. They build nothing that outlives them. And so, the future stands abandoned like a child waiting at a door that may never open. They govern to stay in power.
Chinua Achebe captured it perfectly in his book, The Trouble with Nigeria. He said: “The trouble with Nigeria is simply and squarely a failure of leadership.” Achebe’s words still ring true today. He saw through the façade long before the problems became this glaring. And, sadly, it seems like the situation has only gotten worse. The evidence is everywhere. Our schools are failing. Our hospitals, once mocked as mere consulting clinics, have now deteriorated into silent mortuaries – places where hope goes to die and the living fear to enter. The roads are full of potholes. Our youth are lost to hopelessness. And yet, our rulers are blind to these problems. The future of the next generation is compromised, and our rulers seem unfazed. They do not see the consequences of their failures.
Why?
Because they do not govern for the future.
They govern for now. They do not care about legacy. They care only about tenure, elections, and power. They are too busy securing the next election to consider the next generation. This is why our policies are chaotic. They are short-sighted. Projects are started, only to be abandoned halfway. Behold the obsession with flyovers and the concrete madness that has gripped our governors, who mistake slabs and steel for progress, while the people beg for schools, hospitals, and clean water! Economic plans are announced, only to be forgotten. Education is neglected. Health care is ignored. Every promise made seems to fade away in the face of politics as usual.
Our rulers do not plan for long-term prosperity. They want quick wins. They want to win the next election, not create lasting change. There is no grand vision, no blueprint for the future. All they see is the next vote, not the next generation. Take the education sector. It is broken. Teachers are underpaid. Schools are dilapidated. Classrooms are overcrowded. Students sit on floors. And they respond with empty promises. Meanwhile, the children of our rulers are sent abroad for better education. The system is rigged. The brightest minds are denied access to quality education, while mediocrity thrives. Health care is worse. Public hospitals are gone. They are underfunded, understaffed, and ill-equipped. Citizens die from preventable diseases because the system is broken. Yet, our rulers fly abroad for medical treatment. They neglect the very sector that could save lives. The hypocrisy is staggering.
Security is another crisis. Bandits run rampant in the north. Terrorists control vast swathes of land. Kidnappers strike at will. The government’s response is slow, ineffective, and often political. The lives of ordinary citizens are sacrificed. The military is overstretched, fighting with outdated equipment. Yet, the government keeps increasing the defense budget. The country is on the brink, but no one seems to care. And what about democracy? It is in name only. Political parties are no more than patronage networks. Primaries are auctions. Candidates are chosen by godfathers, not the people. The electorate is sidelined. Citizens are ignored. Democracy has become a tool for self-interest, not service. Democracy has been emptied of its noble promise. It no longer serves the people; it serves the powerful. What was once a sacred covenant between the rulers and the citizens has become a ladder for personal gains. The Harvard scholars, Ziblatt and Levitsky were right in their book, How Democracies Die, that democracies rarely collapse with a bang; they erode slowly, as norms decay, institutions weaken, and those in power substitute the public good with private ambition. Our country is living that slow death. The guardrails meant to protect our republic have been kicked aside by those meant to uphold them. Citizens’ voices are drowned out by money and power.
What future do our rulers offer the next generation? A country where mediocrity reigns? A country where merit is irrelevant? A country where the brightest minds leave, and the dullest stay behind? The future is bleak. But it doesn’t have to be this way.
Obasanjo’s words are not new. They capture a pattern of failure. Our country has repeatedly stumbled over the same obstacles. Short-term thinking. Selfish politics. The same mistakes keep being made, and the people keep suffering. The Second Republic collapsed under the weight of selfish politics. Shagari’s government offered little reform. Babangida promised economic liberalisation but delivered economic disaster. Abacha’s rule was a period of looting and repression. Obasanjo’s second coming was marked by the failed attempt at a third term. Jonathan’s years were marked by wasted opportunities. Buhari’s tenure was marked by stagnation and inefficiency. Tinubu’s government is already failing disastrously.
Each government has failed to deliver meaningful change. None has left a legacy worth remembering. All promised change, but none provided it. The same story repeats itself over and over. The citizens suffer, but the rulers remain unscathed. The long arc of history shows us the cost of ignoring the future. Countries that fail to plan, fail to survive. Rome fell not just because of the invasion of barbarians, but because of internal decay. The Ottoman Empire disintegrated because its leaders ignored the signs of decline. Mobutu’s Congo is a cautionary tale of mismanagement and corruption.
But all is not lost. There is hope.
Countries rise from the ashes of their mistakes. Rwanda, after its genocide, focused on rebuilding with a clear vision. Singapore, once poor and underdeveloped, invested in human capital and infrastructure. Leadership and vision made the difference. These countries did not dwell on the past. They focused on the future. They planned for the long term. Our country can rise too. But not with the current rulers. Our country needs a change. Our country needs leaders who care about more than just elections. Our country needs leaders who care about the future. Leaders who will leave a legacy for the next generation. Our country needs the politics of purpose, not of power.
Our citizens must rise. They must demand better leadership. They must question the rulers. They must reject those who only care about power and self-interest. They must demand leaders who are willing to serve, not to rule. They must insist on transparency and accountability. They must reject tribalism and nepotism. Our citizens must abandon the politics of sentiment and begin to measure leadership by the weight of service, not the size of slogans. In a country scarred by broken promises, citizens can no longer afford to gamble their future on charisma without character. The ballot must become a moral instrument, wielded in favour of those whose hands bear the calluses of real work – men and women who have served not themselves, but the people; who have shown, in quiet diligence, a commitment to public good over private gains.
Citizens must look beyond the billboards and the roadside crowds, and ask harder questions: Who has stood with them when the cameras weren’t rolling? Who has delivered when there were no political points to score? Leadership must be rooted in history, in evidence, in a lived ethic of care. It is time citizens voted not for those who promise paradise, but for those who have exalted them, built schools, reformed the system, or shielded the weak from the blows of the harsh state. Only then can democracy serve the living, and not just the powerful.
A new political culture is needed. One that values service over self-interest. One that prioritises the future over the present. Every leader must be asked: What will you leave behind? It is not enough to simply win elections. Leadership is about building the country and the people, not just securing power. Mandela understood this. Lee Kuan Yew understood this. Kagame’s Rwanda shows that, even after great tragedy, countries can rebuild. Vision is essential. And leadership is key. Our country is a giant. But it is a sleeping giant. It is time to awaken her.
If our rulers will not think of the next generation, the next generation must think of how to replace them. The citizens must rise. They must take charge of their future. History will remember not only the failure of leaders, but the courage of citizens who refused to surrender their fate to mediocrity. When those entrusted with our country’s future chose ambition over vision, it was the citizens who rose, not with arms, but with resolve; not with bitterness, but with purpose. Surely, history will record this for posterity: when the custodians of power abandoned their posts, active citizens stepped forward to reclaim the dreams of our country. They choose legacy over fleeting victory, substance over spectacle. They gave history something worthy to record.
Obasanjo is right. Achebe was right. Now, it is the citizens’ turn to act right.
History and the future wait for no man – including woman.
