Words, Power, and the Nigerian Condition – Abdul Mahmud

By Abdul Mahmud

“When I came in the school was in a sorry situation; one, there was no teachers.” That sentence, delivered by Monday Okpebholo in an interview, has travelled far beyond its original setting. It has sparked laughter in some quarters and discomfort in others. Beneath the humour lies the troubling question about the state of leadership and public communication in Nigeria. Language is not a trivial matter in governance. Words frame policy, convey intention, build trust, or destroy it. When those entrusted with public office struggle with basic rules of expression, citizens begin to worry about what lies beneath the surface.

Grammar may not be governance, or to put it in the illogic of the Afro-juju music impresario, Sir Sina Peters, is not our language, but it is often a window into clarity of thought.

No one expects every leader to be a grammar purist, let alone overly pedantic. Politics is not a grammar competition. Still, a minimum standard of coherence and correctness should not be too much to ask from those who seek to lead complex societies. Governance requires the ability to process information, communicate decisions, and engage with competing interests. Language sits at the core of these tasks. The viral interview granted by Governor Monday Okpebholo to Seun Okinbaloye on Channels Television has become symbolic of a deeper malaise. Here is a governor who recently completed a postgraduate degree at University of Abuja, yet appears unable to navigate the simple rule of concord. The concern is not about one slip. Anyone can misspeak. The concern is about what the slip represents. Higher education is meant to sharpen the mind, refine thinking, strengthen reasoning, and improve communication. When a graduate, especially at the masters level, displays such basic errors in a public setting, questions arise about the integrity of the institution that certified him. One example does not prove institutional decay, but it raises a red flag that cannot be ignored.

Universities are custodians of knowledge. They are meant to produce graduates who can think clearly and express themselves with precision. If they begin to turn out half-baked products, the consequences will ripple through every facet of our national life. Governance will suffer. Public discourse will decline. Standards will fall.

There is also the broader issue of how political leadership has evolved in Nigeria. A comparison with earlier generations is instructive. Leaders like Obafemi Awolowo, Nnamdi Azikiwe, Abubakar Tafawa Balewa, Ahmadu Bello, and Shehu Shagari were not perfect men, but they understood the power of language. Their speeches carried weight, reflected preparation and depth. Awolowo wrote books that still shape political thought. Azikiwe spoke with a blend of intellectual rigour and nationalist passion. Balewa’s public speeches carried the weight of learning. Bello’s communication resonated with clarity and purpose. Shagari’s style was simple but measured. These men treated public speech as a serious public responsibility.

Today, the landscape appears different. Public communication has become casual, sometimes careless. Sound bites replace substance. Errors go unchecked. The result is a steady erosion of confidence in leadership. Citizens begin to feel that those in power are not equipped for the demands of office. This decline has consequences beyond Nigeria’s borders. In an interconnected world, leaders are constantly on display. Their words are heard not only by their citizens but by the international community. When communication falters, it affects the country’s image. It shapes how others perceive its competence and seriousness. Recent remarks by the Kenyan President, William Ruto, which many Nigerians found mocking, should be understood in this context. Such comments do not emerge out of the blue.They reflect perceptions built over time. When leaders project confusion or lack of clarity, they invite scrutiny, and, at times, ridicule.

The problem is not limited to one governor or one interview. It points to a broader issue about the quality of those who occupy public office. Politics has become accessible to a wide range of actors, which is a positive development in a democracy. However, access without standards can lead to mediocrity. There is also a cultural dimension to this problem. Anti-intellectualism has gained ground in many spaces. Expertise is sometimes dismissed. Knowledge is treated with suspicion. In such an environment, the incentive to cultivate intellectual depth weakens. Leaders may feel no pressure to improve their communication or expand their understanding. So, reversing this trend will require effort on multiple fronts. Educational institutions must uphold standards and resist the temptation to lower the bar. Political parties must prioritise competence alongside loyalty. Citizens must demand more from those who seek their votes. More importantly, public communication should be taken seriously. Leaders must recognise that every statement they make carries weight. Preparation should not be optional. Clear thinking should precede clear speaking. Aides must also play their part by ensuring that their principals are well briefed and properly guided.

There is room for growth. A poor interview does not have to define a leader. Improvement is possible with effort and humility. A willingness to learn can make a significant difference. What matters is whether those in power recognise the problem and take steps to address it. The viral clip of Governor Okpebholo may fade from public attention, as many such moments do. The underlying issues, however, will remain. They speak to the quality of education, the standards of leadership, and the expectations of the governed. Nigeria now confronts a defining choice about the character of its leadership. Competence cannot be treated as negotiable. Clarity of thought and expression cannot be optional. Words matter, for they reveal the discipline of the mind that wields them. No country rises above the quality of those who lead it. When language falters, it often signals deeper cracks. Repairing those cracks will require honesty, effort, and a renewed commitment to standards.