A Royal Pronouncement in a Nation in Turmoil
In Lagos, history does not whisper; it walks boldly through the corridors of the palace. Behind the golden gates of Iga Idunganran, friendship and politics have danced together for decades. Oba Rilwan Akiolu and President Bola Ahmed Tinubu share a bond forged in years of political survival, in triumphs and transactions, in laughter and loyalty. Their friendship is not hidden; it is legend. Tinubu has knelt before that throne, and the monarch has blessed his ambitions with the warmth of familiarity. But beyond the marble floors and velvet smiles of that palace, Nigeria trembles. Hunger now sleeps on every pillow. The market woman counts coins that no longer buy anything. The civil servant wakes to salary slips that have turned into elegies. The youth, certificate in hand, stares at the horizon of hopelessness.
From the northern dunes to the southern creeks, the people are bleeding silently under an economy that now feeds on their pain. And yet, as if insulated from this ocean of agony, the Oba of Lagos chose his 82nd birthday and 22nd coronation anniversary not to speak to the conscience of governance, but to insult the collective intelligence of a nation. With astonishing arrogance, he declared before journalists, “Former Vice President Atiku Abubakar will never be president of Nigeria.” Such words are neither royal nor righteous; they are reckless. No mortal, be he a monarch or messenger, has the authority to seal the gates of destiny.
To say “Atiku will never be president” is to attempt to play God in a theatre built for men. It is to mistake access to power for access to heaven. Oba Akiolu should have used that sacred occasion to speak truth to power, to tell his friend in Aso Rock that Nigerians are suffering, that the promises of renewal have become the parables of ruin. He would have stood as a father to the nation, not as a fan to a politician. He should have said, “My President, your people are hungry; your nation is hurting; your hope is hollow.”
But he chose silence on suffering and loudness on partisanship. He chose to mock Atiku instead of mourning Nigeria. That, Your Majesty, is not leadership. That is failure wrapped in beads and brocade. The Oba said, “The future belongs to God.” Indeed it does. But in the next breath, he sought to rewrite that future with his own words. That contradiction alone exposes the moral confusion of his pronouncement. One cannot proclaim divine sovereignty and in the same moment hijack it. The throne is for guidance, not for gambling with God’s will.
Nigeria is not a monarchy. Power does not reside in palaces but in the pulse of the people. The 2027 presidential election will not be decided by the laughter of royal friends but by the lamentations of millions who can no longer afford a bag of rice. It will be determined by those who have been abandoned, by the tears of the teachers, the cries of the traders, the anguish of the artisans, and the hunger of the honest. These are the judges of 2027, the citizens whose ballots will speak louder than any royal decree.
Atiku Abubakar represents that silent multitude, the wounded citizens who still believe in the possibility of a fairer nation. His journey is not of comfort but of conviction. He has walked through betrayal, ridicule, and resistance, yet he continues to rise with the discipline of destiny. His name, love him or loathe him, has become a metaphor for resilience, a man who believes that competence and compassion, not conspiracy and connection, should govern Nigeria.
Oba Akiolu’s statement is not prophecy; it is prejudice. It is the echo of fear that trembles when it hears the footsteps of destiny approaching. It is the arrogance of a palace forgetting that every throne stands on the soil of the people’s patience. The day that patience runs dry, the palace itself becomes a relic. Tinubu may be his friend, but friendship does not confer infallibility. The hunger that haunts Nigerian homes is not a friend to anyone. It does not bow to beads. It does not respect crowns. A friend who flatters power is an accomplice in failure.
Every empire built on arrogance has its twilight. Every prophecy born of pride meets its correction in time. The same God who dethroned Saul and raised David still rules the affairs of nations. He does not consult kings before crowning men. Atiku’s fate lies not in the lips of any monarch but in the heart of God and the hands of millions whose suffering has turned into strength.
When the election season comes, Nigerians will not remember the Oba’s laughter in his palace; they will remember the ache in their stomachs and the emptiness in their wallets. They will not be guided by prophecies; they will be driven by pain. Their hunger will vote. Their anger will count. Their ballot will be louder than any throne. Oba Akiolu has every right to his affection, but not to his anathema. He may bless his friend, but he cannot curse the will of a nation. He may waive his sceptre, but he cannot silence the cry of the suffering.
The palace may glitter, but it cannot legislate destiny. Let it be known throughout the land, Atiku Abubakar’s fate is not in the mouth of men but in the mercy of God and the mandate of Nigerians. Those who mock him today may one day kneel before the verdict of history. For time has a way of humbling the arrogant and vindicating the patient. And when the dust of politics settles, when the noise of power fades, when the throne of vanity gives way to the temple of truth, the people will remember that one voice among many stood for them, the voice that said: no crown can curse whom God intends to crown.
