Turkey, Tinubu and the day gravity became political

BY OLU ALLEN

A fall is never just a fall. In the theatre of power, even gravity becomes political.

As children, our parents hold our wrists, teaching us how not to trip—how to negotiate the earth without kissing it too hard. Growing up is learning to defeat gravity with balance, confidence, and pride.

Old age, however, is gravity’s revenge. It returns, patient and shameless, reminding even kings that the body has its own laws.

And in this era of social media, a single stumble can eclipse an entire summit. One slip can become louder than ten agreements. A fall travels faster than diplomacy.

That is why history remembers not just the fall… but the response.

It was said of Julius Caesar that once, upon entering a foreign land, he tripped and fell. The crowd gasped. But Caesar, being Caesar—master of symbolism—placed his palm on the soil and declared: “Thus I take possession of this land.”

Perfect showmanship. Perfect power instinct. Turning embarrassment into omen.

Two days ago, President Tinubu, walking alongside President Erdoğan, tripped and fell.

And instantly, the fall became the headline. Not the meetings. Not the diplomacy. Not the purpose of the visit.

Just… the fall.

Because when an elderly man falls, it awakens something deeper than mockery. It awakens concern. And in a leader, that public concern rightly transforms into a question of public interest. It forces the question nobody wants to ask out loud: Is he okay—and by extension, is the stewardship of the nation secure?

It is not new for leaders to stumble. Joe Biden tripped on the steps of Air Force One. Others have had their own moments. A fall is human. But leadership is not just about being human.

Leadership is about being honest. Health challenges do not automatically destroy intelligence, competence, or vision. History is full of men who carried nations while carrying illness.

Franklin Roosevelt led America through the depression and war while battling polio. John F. Kennedy governed while enduring constant pain. Even Mandela emerged from years of physical hardship with moral strength that shook an empire. Illness does not always weaken leadership.

Secrecy does.

A leader’s health is not gossip—it is national interest. Transparency is not weakness—it is respect. Citizens do not demand perfection. They demand truth.

And if Nigerians know the reality, Nigerians can respond with maturity, prayer, support, and understanding. But when the presidency rushes into PR gymnastics—when aides start doing media somersaults to convince us that what we all saw did not happen—then the fall becomes heavier than gravity.

Because now it is not just a stumble. It is a question mark. And Nigerians are tired of question marks.

We have seen too many leaders disappear into “medical tourism” only to return with silence and shadows. Too many photo-ops meant to replace honest updates. Too many performances instead of the plain truth.

This is not opposition for opposition’s sake. This is patriotism. A concerned citizen does not mock his president’s fall.

He asks: Are you well, sir? And if you are not, tell us. Because power is not the ability to never fall.

Power is the ability to fall… and still speak honestly to your people. Gravity humbles everyone. Even presidents. The only choice is whether humility will produce truth—or just another press release.

And while the tangible outcomes of a diplomatic trip matter—especially against a backdrop of journeys with little to show—they cannot compensate for a fundamental deficit of trust. Nigeria deserves both results and honesty.

Nigeria deserves diplomacy and transparency. Not just headlines about a fall.

Olu Allen writes from Kano. He writes on public affairs and promotes good governance.