₦airaland Forum

In a world where credibility is the new currency, few African entrepreneurs command as much respect and trust as Tony Elumelu. He is not just a billionaire banker or the chairman of one of Africa’s most expansive financial institutions, United Bank for Africa (UBA); he is a symbol of what responsible leadership, strategic investment, and people-driven capitalism should look like.

Tony Elumelu’s name is synonymous with economic empowerment, particularly among Africa's youth. Through the Tony Elumelu Foundation (TEF), he has empowered over 15,000 young African entrepreneurs with seed funding, mentorship, and training, igniting a new wave of indigenous enterprise on the continent. This is not philanthropy cloaked in PR — it is a deliberate strategy to democratize opportunity and create sustainable wealth across Africa.

Beyond youth empowerment, Elumelu has been a staunch advocate for women's economic participation. His businesses actively support women-led initiatives and provide job opportunities that challenge traditional gender roles in corporate Africa. It’s this holistic view of growth — inclusive, deliberate, and far-reaching — that sets him apart.

But perhaps what best reflects his credibility is how he handles crises, even those that many of his peers would overlook.

Recently, a Nigerian man who had just returned to the country discovered a significant discrepancy in his UBA bank account — a deeply troubling experience for anyone who entrusts their finances to a major bank. What followed, however, was a masterclass in accountability. Rather than hiding behind bureaucracy, Elumelu personally intervened. His swift and dignified handling of the matter didn't just restore the man's trust in the institution — it sent a clear message: leadership is about taking responsibility, especially when it’s inconvenient.

Of course, no one is suggesting Tony Elumelu is a saint. He operates in a complex system riddled with its own imperfections. But integrity is not about perfection — it is about consistency, accountability, and the willingness to do right even when it's not trending.

In an era when Africa is searching for visionary leaders who can drive growth, resolve conflicts, and represent the continent's best, Tony Elumelu stands out. His actions — from empowering thousands to resolving a single customer complaint with grace — reveal a man prepared not just for boardroom leadership, but also for national and continental stewardship.

Tony Elumelu is not merely a businessman; he is a credible force for change. And if Africa is to rise, it will be through men like him — those who build, empower, and take responsibility.

On the second anniversary of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s administration, Nigeria finds itself at a dangerous crossroads. The day’s headlines provide a troubling summary of the national condition: 150 Nigerians dead and thousands displaced due to catastrophic flooding in Niger State, even as the president commissions the Lagos-Calabar Coastal Highway amid fanfare. While concrete is being poured in select urban corridors, blood and tears flow in neglected rural communities.

This contrast is not an anomaly, it is the defining pattern of Tinubu’s leadership.

Development for the Elite, Disaster for the Masses

The administration has celebrated two years of so-called "renewed hope." Yet for millions of ordinary Nigerians, what has been renewed is despair. The coastal highway, a pet project costing trillions of naira, has moved with record speed, while Nigeria's internally displaced persons (IDPs), flood victims, and farmers continue to suffer in silence. In Niger State, more than 3,000 homes have been washed away. Families have been buried under waters that could have been prevented with better infrastructure and policy foresight.

The Niger disaster is not just a tragedy, it is a glaring indictment of institutional failure and environmental neglect. Experts and affected communities have warned for years about the risks posed by mismanaged dams and inadequate drainage systems, yet little to nothing was done.

An Economy in Freefall

Since May 2023, the naira has lost over 70% of its value, inflation has surged beyond 34%, and fuel subsidies were removed without a social cushioning plan. The result? Skyrocketing food prices, mass layoffs, and widespread hunger. The much-touted "removal of subsidy" and “exchange rate unification” only widened the inequality gap. Millions now live below the poverty line, and Nigeria remains the world’s poverty capital.

What economic policy exists has been marked by inconsistencies, confusion, and elite capture driven more by photo ops than results. Even small and medium-scale enterprises (SMEs), once considered the backbone of Nigeria’s economy, are shutting down under the weight of high interest rates, forex instability, and poor power supply.

Security: A Nation Under Siege

Despite campaign promises to restore national security, terrorism, banditry, kidnapping, and communal violence continue to rage across the country. From Plateau to Zamfara, Kaduna to Imo, countless communities remain under siege. The peace and security Nigerians were promised have not materialized, only more condolences, hashtags, and silence from a disconnected leadership.

Corruption and Cosmetic Reforms

The re-arrest and fresh charges against former CBN Governor Godwin Emefiele over 753 Abuja housing units have reignited public anger, but Nigerians are no longer impressed by media trials. What they want are transparent prosecutions, full asset recoveries, and meaningful reforms that prevent future abuse.

Sadly, the Tinubu government’s anti-corruption efforts remain selective and superficial. Institutions like the EFCC and ICPC are still plagued by executive interference, rendering the fight against corruption more theatrical than transformational.

The Collapse of Democratic Credibility

Under this administration, democracy has come under quiet siege. Local government autonomy is ignored, the judiciary remains under pressure, and the electoral process has lost significant public trust, especially after the 2023 elections were marred by logistical failures, voter suppression, and court-imposed mandates that undermined popular will.

In many parts of the country, young people now speak of democracy not as hope but as theatre.

A National Call for Reflection

As Nigeria mourns the victims of the Niger floods, and as thousands of families grapple with loss and displacement, there is a growing national consensus: This is not the progress we were promised.

We do not need more highways to nowhere. We need leadership that sees every Nigerian not just the rich and well-connected. We need policies that protect the vulnerable, not punish them. We need action not apathy.

President Tinubu still has time, but time is running out. If the next two years mirror the last, Nigeria risks not just stagnation but collapse.

Once upon a time, not too long ago, Governor Nyesom Wike of Rivers State was a lion roaring against the intimidation and harassment deployed by the APC-led Federal Government. He openly celebrated Senate President Bukola Saraki and Governor Abdulfatah Ahmed for their courage in defecting from APC to PDP, describing them as men of bold conviction.

Wike didn’t just issue a statement, he praised them for standing up to tyranny, for rejecting the politics of intimidation, and for choosing principle over convenience.

Fast forward to today, and we must ask: What happened to that Wike?

Meanwhile, Bukola Saraki has remained consistent. As Chairman of the PDP National Reconciliation and Strategy Committee, Saraki has worked tirelessly to mend broken bridges across party lines. His leadership is calm, strategic, and people-focused, qualities Nigeria is in desperate need of.

Saraki’s political ideology, even when challenged, hasn't flip-flopped for convenience. Unlike others, he hasn’t tried to disguise personal ambition as national interest. He’s not switching sides with every change in the weather. He’s building, not burning.

But Wike?

The same man who once stood tall against APC tyranny now walks closely with its architects, politically hobnobbing with the very forces he once warned us about. He’s rebranded his defiance into deflection. His once-principled outbursts now come across as politically self-serving.

Is this the same Wike who praised Saraki for “dumping APC” in the name of democracy?

What changed?

Is the APC no longer intimidating and harassing opposition figures now that Wike shares a table with them? Or was his earlier outrage merely a tool for leverage in internal party wars?

We cannot praise Saraki’s consistency without questioning Wike’s contradiction. Nigerians are tired of leaders who speak one truth today and another tomorrow, all depending on which party platform is giving them a microphone.

History is watching. And the people are learning.

OPINION: Trump’s Talk of Pardoning Diddy Is Another Slap in the Face

By a Conscious African

Donald Trump says he “won’t rule out pardoning Diddy” if convicted. Of course he won’t. Because nothing excites Trump more than centering himself in someone else's chaos, especially if it gives him more power over Black pain.

Let’s call this what it is: performative politics wrapped in shameless arrogance. The same Trump who called African nations “sh\thole countries” now wants to play savior to Black men, but only when they’re useful to his campaign optics.

Where was this energy for R. Kelly? A man who, despite his personal failures, was lynched in the public square in a system where predators wear suits and walk free every day.

Robert Kelly didn’t just make hits, he once made "Sign of a Victory", an African anthem embraced by the continent during the 2010 World Cup. That song was more than music; it was a call for awakening, a proud declaration of global Black excellence. And maybe, just maybe, that unapologetic link to his African roots made him more dangerous in the eyes of the machine.

Because America forgives crimes, it just doesn’t forgive certain kinds of Blackness.

Let’s not get it twisted: this isn’t about defending abusers. It’s about dissecting the double standards. R. Kelly was discarded like a used prop. Diddy is still being handled with kid gloves even as the allegations grow darker by the day. And now Trump wants credit for not ruling out a pardon? Please.

Trump doesn’t care about justice. He doesn’t care about Diddy, R. Kelly, or any of us. He cares about headlines, deals, and desperate clout-chasing disguised as leadership.

Don’t be fooled. This isn’t justice. It’s a reality show. And Trump’s trying to cast himself as the hero in a drama he helped create.

We see through it.

Governor Uba Sani’s recent call for activists to rise in defense of democracy might have sounded noble, if only it weren’t so painfully tone-deaf.

With all due respect, what democracy is the APC government referring to? The one where the price of fuel has skyrocketed beyond affordability? The one where insecurity remains the order of the day? The one where “economic reforms” translate to mass hunger, unemployment, and hopelessness?

Nigerians are not struggling because they don’t understand democracy. They are struggling because the APC has failed to make democracy work for them.

Economic Hardship Isn’t a Reform, It’s a Crisis

Under President Bola Tinubu’s administration, we were promised bold reforms. What we got instead was chaos in the markets and despair in our homes.

The removal of fuel subsidies, coupled with the naira’s free fall, has resulted in a terrifying spike in the cost of living. Families are cutting meals, businesses are shutting down, and young people are fleeing the country in droves.

Yes, the APC can cite “macroeconomic stabilization,” but the streets tell a different story, one of hunger, frustration, and broken promises. The so-called gains are not trickling down. They’re evaporating into elite bank accounts and empty statistics.


Security: A Government that Can’t Protect, Can’t Preach

They say security has improved. But who really feels safe?

Since Tinubu took office, over 10,000 people have died from gunmen and other forms of violence, according to credible tracking sources. Kidnappings are still rampant. Rural communities live in fear. Parents still whisper prayers every time their children leave the house.

Yet, we’re told to “defend democracy.” Democracy cannot thrive where the people are unsafe and silenced.


The APC’s Favorite Weapon? Vagueness

Whenever criticism surfaces, the APC’s response is predictable: blame the opposition, blame Jonathan, blame global economics, blame everyone except themselves. But leadership isn’t about excuses. It’s about accountability.

What Nigerians are hearing from this government is not solutions, it’s spin. Speeches filled with buzzwords and vague calls to action, while the real issues are buried under press releases and photo ops.

From haphazard palliative distributions to tone-deaf policy decisions, the APC continues to gaslight Nigerians into accepting suffering as progress.

Governor Sani, Start with Your House

If Governor Uba Sani truly wants to defend democracy, he must begin by calling out his own party’s failures. Defending democracy means defending the people from poverty, inflation, joblessness, corruption, and insecurity. It means ensuring justice and equity, not just electoral rituals.

The Nigerian people are tired of platitudes. Tired of being told to be patient. Tired of watching leaders enrich themselves while they suffer.

The Bottom Line

Democracy isn’t dying in Nigeria, it’s being betrayed by the very people who were elected to protect it. Until the APC moves beyond empty speeches and begins to deliver real governance, no call to “defend democracy” will resonate with a people drowning in suffering.

Nigerians don’t want to defend democracy anymore.

They want to experience it.

When Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzmán ordered a hit that eventually cost him his own son, the world watched in horror. For many, it was proof that there are men who will sacrifice anything, anyone for power. Not out of madness, but out of method. In the underworld, blood is currency. And the throne is never vacant for long.

Nigeria may be worlds away from Mexico, but ambition recognizes no borders. Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s rise to the presidency bears a haunting resemblance to the Sinaloan playbook: consolidate the street, co-opt the system, and crush anything or anyone that threatens the mission.

They called him the "Godfather of Lagos." And like every godfather, he didn’t just build influence, he institutionalized it. Political loyalty was bought not with ideology but with stomach infrastructure. His fingerprints were on ballots before the ink dried.

The El Chapo of our politics didn’t need tunnels to traffic influence he had INEC. He didn’t need to bribe guards to escape justice he redefined it. From questionable campaign financing to electoral gymnastics, Tinubu turned democracy into a stage and cast himself as both director and lead actor.

The journey was paved with silence and sacrifice. Sacrifices like public trust. Like truth. Like the dreams of young Nigerians who watched 2023 unfold like a rigged game of chess where every move had been rehearsed years in advance.

And yet, the deeper concern isn’t what Tinubu did to become president. It’s what Nigeria became in the process.

When a country begins to mirror its captors, when the line between statecraft and state capture blurs, we must ask: is this still democracy, or are we in the cartel’s compound, mistaking compromise for peace?

Both El Chapo and Tinubu taught us something chilling: when institutions are weak, men become untouchable. And when the people stop demanding better, they start applauding survival even if it’s soaked in corruption.

History will remember the methods. But the people must remember the cost.