Power lust echoes in federal corridor

There are moments in public life that reveal far more than the actors involved intend. The embarrassing spectacle staged last week in Abuja, where the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Nyesom Wike, squared off with a naval officer on a disputed plot of land, was one of those moments. It was a tableau of power without restraint, ego without wisdom, office without dignity.

Let us be clear. No minister of the Federal Republic has any business personally storming a construction site with cameras, civilians, and armed police in tow. It was a childish show of force, a self-indulgent performance staged for the media, and an entirely avoidable descent into hooliganism.

A senior government official — a barrister, a member of the Body of Benchers — should know, instinctively, that the law does not require theatrics to function. If Wike believed the situation was unlawful, the legal channels were clear. Courts exist. Processes exist. Command structures exist. What does not exist in a civilised democracy is the idea that a minister becomes an action-movie protagonist whenever he feels slighted.

Instead, Wike marched onto a site defended by armed personnel, dragging unsuspecting civilians and police officers into what instantly became a dangerous confrontation. He endangered lives. And then, rather than de-escalate, he escalated — trading insults with a uniformed officer like a street brawler, not a statesman. It was a shameful display.

What unfolded at that site was not an aberration. It was vintage Wike — the same swaggering impunity that defined his years as the governor of Rivers State. Too many Nigerian governors operate like emperors in their fiefdoms, drunk on the intoxicant of unchecked power. They are accustomed to saying, “I will show you who is in government,” as if government were a personal inheritance rather than a public trust. Wike imported that mindset into Abuja.

Under his watch, the FCT has become a theatre of demolitions, seizures, reallocations, and endless lawsuits accusing the administration of recklessness, cruelty, and lawlessness. The immediate past Governor of Kaduna State, Nasir El-Rufai, did it before him. In Lagos, entire neighbourhoods have been levelled allegedly “to open canals”, only for those canals to remain untouched years later. A disturbing pattern is emerging across Nigeria’s urban governance — a tyrannical impulse wrapped in bureaucratic excuses.

Which raises the question: Is the FCT minister’s primary job land grabbing? That is what it increasingly looks like.

And then, the humiliations began to pile up.

First, the Defence Ministry — the supervising ministry for the armed forces — declared it stood by its officers on lawful duty. That is an extraordinary rebuke. It means the military is saying, publicly and without ambiguity, “Our officer was in the right. The minister was not.”

Second, the Inspector General of Police, Kayode Egbetokun, disowned the police officers who followed Wike to the site, stating emphatically that they had no authority to be on that mission. The police are authorised to enforce court orders — and there was none here.

Third, it emerged that the naval officer on that property was not a rogue element; he was acting on orders from his superiors, in line with the military tradition that former Service Chiefs are entitled to armed protection for their lives and properties long after leaving office. It is part of the perks of the office — indeed, part of the reason those positions are so intensely lobbied for.

Fourth, Nigerians overwhelmingly applauded the naval officer. The public, weary of Wike’s high-handedness, saw in that young officer something they crave in civilian officials — restraint, dignity, and respect for process.

The applause was not for the uniform.

It was a referendum on Wike’s leadership.

His approval rating is, effectively, buried in the mud.

And hanging over all this is the rumoured coup chatter that has unsettled Aso Rock lately. President Bola Tinubu, fully aware of the sensitivities, has refused to appear to endorse any affront to military authority. Wike is on his own.

In any stable democracy, a minister who endangers officers of the armed forces, risks the lives of civilians, and drags national institutions into disrepute would be summoned immediately for reprimand. Silence is not neutrality; silence is endorsement. And endorsement, in this case, would be catastrophic.

President Tinubu cannot afford to be ambiguous. The country cannot afford it either.

President Tinubu must publicly reprimand Wike. The misconduct unfolded in public; the consequences must be addressed in public.

Wike must abandon this theatrical style of governance. Administration is not a circus. There is no medal for demolition.

He must stop the aggression, stop the unnecessary confrontations, and stop the weaponisation of the machinery of the FCT.

Land disputes in Abuja must be resolved through diplomacy and law, not bulldozers and bravado. The indiscriminate demolitions, the disregard for court orders, the arbitrary seizures — all must end.

The Nigerian Navy should issue a clear factual statement explaining why Lt. A. M. Yerima was on that property, so that Nigerians may understand that he was performing a lawful duty, not engaging in an unsanctioned operation.

Mr Minister, remember this:

You will not be in the office forever.

Power is temporary. Offices are fleeting.

Your children will live in Nigeria you are helping to shape.

This country is a democracy, not a battlefield for personal ego.

Drop the emperor complex. Step away from self-help.

And, for once, let humility guide your public conduct.

Nigeria has had enough strongmen. What it needs now are grown men.

Aziza Uko is one of Nigeria’s leading political and leadership communication strategists, a respected brand consultant, and the Executive Editor of The Trent. A seasoned communications professional with over two decades of experience across media, marketing, political strategy, and corporate communications, she has shaped some of the country’s most influential political campaigns and public narratives.

Aziza Uko, a publisher, writer, and media entrepreneur, writes via azizauko@thetrentonline.com