On Leadership, Evidence, and the Burden of Proof in a Troubled Republic

 

By Rt. Hon. Linus Abaa Okorie, FCA

 

In every democracy worthy of the name, public debate about leadership choices is not only inevitable but healthy. It sharpens ideas, tests claims, and helps citizens make informed judgments. It is in that spirit that this reflection is offered on the recent commentary by Mr. Bayo Onanuga, Special Adviser to President Bola Tinubu on Media and Strategy, concerning Mr. Peter Obi, his political choices, his ideas, and his suitability to lead Nigeria.

 

First, it is important to separate rhetoric from record, and labels from lived reality. Political mobility, which Mr. Onanuga derides as “wandering,” is neither unusual nor disqualifying in a multiparty democracy. Nigerian political history is replete with leaders—including Onanuga’s boss, President Tinubu himself—who moved across parties as the political landscape evolved. Parties are vehicles, not destinies. What ultimately matters is not how many vehicles a politician has boarded, but the consistency of values, the clarity of ideas, and the quality of outcomes associated with that individual over time. On that score, Peter Obi’s public life shows remarkable ideological consistency: prudence, accountability, productivity, and empathy for the most vulnerable.

 

The claim that Mr. Obi’s 2023 performance was “ill-fated” or that he was “fortunate to come third” ignores a fundamental political fact that even critics privately concede: Obi catalysed the most organic, youth-driven political movement Nigeria has seen since 1999, without the backing of state power, entrenched godfathers, incumbent governors or the financial machinery traditionally associated with national campaigns. Millions of Nigerians—particularly youths and urban professionals—did not follow Peter Obi because of ethnic sentiment or social media hype; they followed him because he articulated, credibly and consistently, a different philosophy of governance rooted in measurable results and personal integrity.

 

On the issue of Anambra State, serious discourse demands seriousness of evidence. Peter Obi did not govern Anambra perfectly—no human administration does—but to describe his tenure as an “abysmal failure” is to contradict verifiable public records. He left office with significant cash reserves, reduced debt, improved educational outcomes, and enhanced fiscal discipline in a state previously known for financial recklessness. These facts are not Obi’s inventions; they are documented in state accounts and acknowledged by independent observers, including those who were not politically aligned with him. In a country where public office has too often been treated as an avenue for personal enrichment, Obi’s insistence on saving public funds and living modestly stands out precisely because it is rare.

 

Mr. Onanuga’s dismissal of comparative learning—his skepticism toward drawing lessons from other nations—raises a deeper philosophical concern. No serious policymaker anywhere governs in isolation from global experience. Learning from Indonesia, Vietnam, the United States, or Rwanda does not imply copying blindly; it reflects intellectual humility and openness to evidence. Indeed, Nigeria’s own economic history—from banking reforms to telecom liberalization—has benefited from adapting global best practices to local realities. What distinguishes competent leadership is not xenophobic originality, but the capacity to contextualize lessons intelligently. Peter Obi has consistently argued for adaptation, not imitation, and for evidence-based policymaking over improvisation.

 

It is also necessary to interrogate claims of macroeconomic success attributed to the current administration. Yes, petrol subsidies were removed—but removal alone is not reform if its social costs are not mitigated. Yes, exchange rates have been liberalized—but currency “stability” that coexists with declining purchasing power, rising poverty, and business closures cannot be assessed only from the vantage point of spreadsheets. Yes, ambitious infrastructure projects have been announced—but governance is measured not by announcements, projections, or ceremonial groundbreakings, but by delivery, financing sustainability, and opportunity cost in a nation burdened by debt and shrinking real incomes.

 

This is where public trust becomes central. Millions of Nigerians, especially young people and professionals in the productive economy, trust Peter Obi not because he promises miracles, but because his life and record suggest restraint, discipline, and respect for institutions. They trust him because he speaks honestly about limits, trade-offs, and priorities. They trust him because he understands that growth without inclusion breeds instability, and that reforms without empathy risk social fracture. Trust, once lost, cannot be reclaimed by statistics alone; it is rebuilt through credibility and lived example.

 

The suggestion that Peter Obi is driven by bitterness or animosity misunderstands the nature of civic grievance in a democracy. Questioning electoral processes, governance outcomes, or policy choices is not bitterness; it is citizenship. Nigeria’s democratic evolution depends on leaders who are willing to interrogate power, including when they are out of office. History rarely looks kindly on those who mistake criticism for treason or dissent for envy.

 

Finally, speculative assertions about Obi’s future role in 2027—whether as a “second fiddle” or running mate—are premature and beside the point. Politics is dynamic, coalitions evolve, and citizens ultimately decide. What is clear today is that Peter Obi remains a central figure in Nigeria’s political imagination because he embodies an alternative leadership ethic that many Nigerians yearn for: competence without arrogance, frugality without stinginess, reform without cruelty, and ambition without entitlement.

 

Nigeria’s challenges are too grave for personalised dismissals or caricature. We need a higher standard of debate—one that recognises that patriotism is not monopolised by incumbency, and that loyalty to Nigeria sometimes requires listening to uncomfortable truths. In the end, leadership will not be judged by who wrote the sharpest rejoinder, but by who offers the most credible path out of poverty, insecurity, and institutional decay.

 

That, ultimately, is the test before all of us.