₦airaland Forum

I recently wrote an article emphasising the failure of democracy, especially in Africa. Democracy is still the best form of government. The problem is that political actors worldwide have learned to manipulate it. It will only get worse. As the next presidential election in Nigeria draws nearer, there is a likelihood that President Bola Ahmed Tinubu might be literally contesting against himself. This sounds ridiculous, but it is already unfolding.

Nigeria operates a multi-party system on paper. Most elections are dominated by two major political parties, namely the All Progressives Congress and the People’s Democratic Party. Oftentimes, what we call the opposition party is formed by aggrieved members of the ruling party. Apparently, they are still one family. They only become opposition when it is perceived that the spoils of power were not evenly shared. At least 18 out of the 21 political parties are not real contenders but pretenders. They function as fractional political platforms, often used as special purpose vehicles by the dominant parties.

Tinubu understands the fragility of the party system in Nigeria and is using it to his advantage. He appears to be drawing lessons from leaders like Paul Kagame, Abdel Fattah el-Sisi, Robert Mugabe, Yoweri Museveni, Paul Biya and Vladimir Putin, leaders often accused of suppressing opposition to stay in power. In 2018, Sisi’s government cracked down on political opponents using the machinery of the state. The moment you throw your hat in the ring, scrutiny intensifies, and in some cases, opponents are arrested or disqualified. Sisi eventually contested against Moussa Mostafa Moussa, a relatively unknown candidate who stood little chance. He won in a landslide, although the election was widely criticised by Western governments and observers. During Mugabe’s time, his opponent Morgan Tsvangirai was arrested, publicly humiliated, and in 2007, beaten by the police alongside his supporters.

Since Tinubu places significant importance on validation from the Western world, he appears to be pursuing a more subtle approach to weakening the opposition. It is quiet and methodical, designed to appear normal and procedural. The latest rumour is that the current Chairman of the Independent National Electoral Commission, Professor Joash Amupitan, is a supporter of the ruling party. Social media posts on X in 2023 were said to have exposed his support for Tinubu. I am not surprised. A shrewd politician like Tinubu is unlikely to nominate someone who cannot align with his interests.

It is also argued that Tinubu has used the FCT Minister, Nyesom Wike, to weaken the former main opposition party, the PDP. Does it not raise questions that a member of the opposition, who once helped stabilise the party after the Ali Modu Sheriff crisis, is now a major force within the ruling structure while still retaining his opposition membership? The problems within the PDP have become so complex that some members have abandoned the party and regrouped elsewhere. Today, Wike is reportedly building residences for judges in Abuja, a move some interpret as strategic positioning in case election results are challenged in court.

Tinubu has also been accused of persuading state governors with incentives to join the APC. His party now has over 30 governors. A few others have not formally joined but are aligned with him. The crisis within the African Democratic Congress has also been linked to powerful political interests. Former Vice President Atiku Abubakar, in a recent interview, alleged that a factional leader of the party has received protection, vehicles, and housing while undermining the party’s progress. INEC’s stance on the ADC crisis has further raised concerns about neutrality.

Some prominent figures in the ADC, including former Kaduna State governor Nasir El-Rufai and former Attorney General Abubakar Malami, are currently facing corruption related cases. This has been widely interpreted in some quarters as an attempt to pressure opposition figures.

Previously, the National Assembly, dominated by Tinubu’s allies, appeared reluctant to pass proposals mandating real time transmission of election results by INEC. I have not lived as long as Methuselah in the Bible, but I have rarely seen an incumbent appear this concerned about opposition forces. It may look calm in public, but behind the scenes, it seems far more restless.

Back to the crux of the matter, if the ADC collapses, who will realistically contest against Tinubu? Those numerous smaller political parties that cannot win even the most localised contests? If that happens, 2027 may effectively become Tinubu contesting against himself. This could turn out to be one of the least competitive presidential elections in Nigeria’s history.

The article headline appears damning and alarming. I agree. Ignore it for a second and focus on the crux of the matter. On the 6th of February 2026, a Ghanaian nurse named Richmond Mensah, a father of one, went to sleep in preparation for a night shift and never woke up. He was just 33. He left behind his wife and a 14-month-old daughter. His story is not an isolated case. Similarly, Samuel Acquah, a Ghanaian nurse at Southend University Hospital in Essex, died in his sleep in August 2025, leaving behind a wife and two children in Ghana. The list of Ghanaian healthcare workers who have died suddenly is long and well-documented online.

In recent years, many immigrants have passed away under circumstances linked to stress. There is a sleeplessness epidemic across the Western world. Due to the high cost of living, people literally work around the clock to make ends meet. Many people take on both night and day shifts, hoping their situation will eventually improve. Approximately one in three adults in the UK experiences sleep problems or symptoms of insomnia, with over 80 percent of the population affected by poor sleep at some point. Recent data suggests that more than half of UK adults, 51 percent, do not get enough sleep, and around 10 percent suffer from persistent, chronic insomnia. According to Aviva, key factors affecting sleep in the UK include financial worries, affecting 45 percent of people, stress, and work-related issues.

The implication is clear. Stress takes a toll on the human body and can destroy it if left unchecked. There is a saying in academia that the shorter your sleep, the shorter your life. It was popularised by British sleep expert Matt Walker, PhD, an author, scientist, and professor of neuroscience and psychology at the University of California, Berkeley.

If you sleep more, you live longer. If you sleep less, your lifespan reduces. According to the NHS, adults need 7 to 9 hours of sleep, while children need 9 to 13 hours daily. Sleep is central to human health and wellbeing. It affects overall human functioning. Lack of sleep impacts memory, processing speed, and mood. It even affects the size of a man’s testicles. Furthermore, the strength of a man’s genes can be weakened by sleep deprivation. The immune system is also compromised. In addition, sleep affects physical strength and motivation. Mental health is not spared either. Sleep deprivation can lead to depression and other serious conditions, such as obesity, body pains, high blood pressure, dizziness, and even heart attacks or cardiac arrest.

In recent years, how many Nigerians who move abroad can truly boast of meeting the daily sleep threshold of 7 to 9 hours? It is a very small percentage. Most Nigerians who relocate abroad are absorbed into the blue-collar sector, where jobs are physically demanding and emotionally exhausting. The pay is often modest, and to meet bills and responsibilities, many are forced to work unsociable hours.

In the UK, for example, coming in as a student is particularly challenging. Highly indebted students attend classes during the day and work at night. I once heard of a man who spends his day doing heavy lifting in a warehouse as a loader. After 11 hours, he resumes a night shift at a hospital where he works as a support worker. He relies on short breaks to catch a few hours of sleep. It is never enough. When he gets home, he cares for his child. Within this tight schedule, he still fulfils his responsibilities to his wife. This is the reality of many immigrants in Europe and America.

Social media validation, the pressure to appear successful, unrealistic targets, impatience, the need to send money home, and the lack of social safety nets for immigrants are all factors pushing people slowly toward early graves.

At first, everything seems fine, with no visible concerns. Then, gradually, the body begins to break down. One of the early signs of stress abroad is loud snoring like those Shomolu power generators, regardless of body size. Soon after, symptoms such as constant tiredness, loss of energy, poor concentration, frequent drowsiness, and recurring illness begin to appear.

From my personal observation, many immigrants adopt coping mechanisms used by locals in an attempt to manage stress and lack of sleep. They rely on stimulants such as coffee, energy drinks, and vapes to keep going. Some go further, turning to pills, weed, and other substances. While these may offer temporary relief, the long-term consequences can be severe and life-threatening. It is a deep and dangerous cycle.

With the growing rate of sleeplessness among Nigerians abroad, it may take sheer luck for many to live long. Although people are aware of these risks and are trying to transition into white-collar jobs, upward mobility remains limited, especially for people of colour.

As the legendary rapper MI Abaga said in one of his songs, “Don’t spend your life to buy money, because you can’t spend your money to buy life.”

There is an ongoing debate about which country is better to emigrate to, Canada or the United Kingdom. What makes this conversation both interesting and ironic is that it is largely driven by Nigerians who are immigrants, not by locals in these countries.

Some Nigerians arrive in the United Kingdom full of expectations, only to realise that money does not grow on trees. Soon after, they begin to consider relocating again, this time to Canada, often influenced by concerns around visa uncertainty and long settlement routes in the UK.
In some cases, people move from the UK to Canada and then back to the UK again. This constant back-and-forth is not just exhausting; it is expensive and mentally draining. Starting over in a new country is not a small decision. It requires emotional stability, financial strength, and time.

From a distance, life in the West appears almost perfect. Clean streets, beautiful buildings, organised systems, and a lifestyle that looks effortless. Social media reinforces this illusion. With good lighting, decent clothes, and a smartphone, anyone can curate a version of success that attracts admiration. What is rarely shown is the pressure behind the scenes, the long hours, the uncertainty, and the quiet struggles.
The reality for many immigrants is far less glamorous. A significant number of Nigerians in the UK find themselves in blue-collar roles. At first, it feels like progress. There is income, independence, and a sense of movement. But over time, the limitations become clearer. The work can be physically demanding, upward mobility is not always straightforward, and the journey to permanent residency can feel slow and uncertain.

Canada, on the other hand, is often seen as offering a clearer pathway through programmes like Express Entry, along with better prospects for white-collar employment. This perception drives many to make the switch. However, the reality is more complex. Canada has its own structural challenges. Job markets can be tight, and it is not uncommon for newcomers to spend months searching for work while facing a high cost of living. For many, this creates a different kind of pressure.

The truth is that no system is designed to be easy for outsiders. Every country prioritises its own stability first. What we are witnessing is not just a UK versus Canada debate, but a broader global reality. Opportunities are shrinking, competition is increasing, and economic systems are becoming less forgiving.

Relocating today requires more than ambition. It demands patience, humility, and resilience. These are not just nice qualities; they are survival tools. Without them, the adjustment period can feel overwhelming. Even with high-level skills in fields like technology, medicine, or engineering, there are no guarantees. The global job market is shifting, and even previously secure industries are evolving rapidly.

This is why I often encourage people back home to look inward as much as they look outward. Building something where you are may not be glamorous, but it can be powerful. Recently, I have spent time following young Nigerians involved in agriculture and animal husbandry. What they are doing may not trend globally, but it is sustainable, impactful, and deeply valuable. They are creating wealth, not just chasing it.
There is dignity in building, in staying, in growing something from the ground up. Movement, on its own, is not progress. Relocating repeatedly in search of a perfect system can become a cycle rather than a solution.

There is no perfect country. There is no guaranteed soft landing. Every path comes with trade offs. So before choosing sides in the UK Canada debate, it is worth asking a more honest question. Are you chasing opportunity, or are you chasing perception?
Because in the end, the difference matters.

Rice is the most popular staple food in Nigeria. For some reason, rice has gained immense cultural and social significance. Most times, the price of rice is used to measure the progress made by an administration over time. Politicians ululate when the price of rice falls and take the glory. They can also deploy the availability and price of rice against an opponent. Rice has become an object of political brickbats.

Growing up, my civil servant family used to eat rice on Sundays during the military regime. It was a day to look forward to. Rice was made into jollof rice - a classy dish once associated with the elites. We also had rice and stew. Rice and beans never went wrong either. For the not-so-rich, concoction rice graced the table. Rice was that magical meal that could be transformed into many forms, stretching across class, culture, and occasion. From weddings to funerals, birthdays to casual family gatherings, no social event in Nigeria feels complete without rice.

As the reverence for rice grew among Nigerians, one clever but uneducated politician named Chief Lamidi Adedibu (now deceased) from Ibadan, Oyo State, was studying the “rice situation” in Nigeria in the 1990s. He soon saw Nigeria’s love for rice as a weakness that could be exploited for political gain and to secure the loyalty of the masses. Adedibu — the “King of Molete,” fondly known as “Baba” in those days, did not wait for elections. His house in Ibadan became something like a daily feeding centre. He fed thousands of people regularly with amala and gave them small amounts of cash. To many, the experience felt like biblical manna from heaven. It earned him immense political influence and popularity. He built a fiercely loyal grassroots army, if Adedibu asked them to vote for a candidate, they did. Adedibu became a mega kingmaker in Oyo politics, popularising what later became known as “Amala politics.”

The politics of “stomach infrastructure” is, in my view, a mockery of the Nigerian masses. It reminds me of the story of Esau, who sold his birthright to his brother Jacob for a bowl of stew. He sacrificed his future for a moment of satisfaction and pleasure. Isn’t that what the masses do when they accept rice and other cheap gifts from political actors in exchange for their votes?

At that point in Nigeria’s history, rice was not widely known as a political bait. Another politician, Ayodele Fayose, who attended the Polytechnic of Ibadan, appeared to have understudied Adedibu’s strategy. Nigerians are hungry, feed them first, tell them what they want to hear, and they will follow you. This played out clearly during the 2014 gubernatorial election in Ekiti State, a hotly contested race between the incumbent governor, Kayode Fayemi, and Fayose. While Fayemi campaigned on his record of building roads, schools, and civic infrastructure, Fayose took a different route. He argued, in simple terms, that you cannot expect a hungry man to appreciate a smooth road.

Rice was widely deployed as a political weapon to defeat Fayemi decisively. Fayose’s campaign brazenly distributed bags of rice, chickens, and cash directly to the people. The good people of Ekiti could hardly say no. They saw Fayose’s rice as salvation. The branded mini-bags of rice carried political messages that spread faster than fake news in the 21st century. In a shocking outcome, Fayose defeated the incumbent in all 16 local government areas. After the election, this approach became widely known as “stomach infrastructure”— a term Fayose himself proudly embraced.

The success of this rice strategy soon changed the face of politics in Nigeria. Every politician with deep pockets began investing in rice distribution. The more they shared, the more popularity they gained. To this day, election campaigns are often driven less by manifestos and more by material inducements. Politicians now add more “ingredients” to the rice, money, cooking supplies, propaganda, rigging, violence, and aggression, to secure political victory.

Earlier this month, Nigerian President Bola Ahmed Tinubu announced the nationwide distribution of rice in grand style as part of preparations that many believe are tied to the 2027 presidential election.

Tinubu directed the Renewed Hope Ambassadors to begin distributing rice across all states of the federation to support Nigerians observing Ramadan and Lent. While this appears to be an act of benevolence, it is also timely and strategic.

Rice in Nigeria is more than food; it is a symbol of survival, celebration, and, increasingly, political leverage. In a country where poverty is widespread, a bag of rice today often means more to a struggling family than promises of a better economy tomorrow. Tinubu understands this and may use it to his advantage.

But the truth must be told: the success of the rice strategy has contributed to the regression of the Nigerian state. Hunger has been weaponised, and the people are bought cheaply. The masses have become like catfish, fed expertly, only to be harvested, processed, packaged, and sold for high economic value by the farmer.

Travelling is education. Most times, the information you need is experiential. It is not written in a book. You need to visit places and observe things first-hand. It helps you demystify certain myths. Before I relocated abroad, I had so much faith in anything foreign. I used the term ‘saner climes’ like other writers endlessly. But after living outside Nigeria for a while, I realised there is no ‘sane clime’ anywhere. The only difference is that the standard in Africa is extremely low. These Western countries we look up to also have their challenges, and their citizens are increasingly disillusioned.

Today, thousands of UK residents emigrate yearly in search of better opportunities. According to the UK Office for National Statistics, over 500,000 people left the UK in 2023 alone, with popular destinations including Australia, Canada, and the UAE.

When I read that President Bola Ahmed Tinubu was in the UK for a state-sponsored visit, I thought, “This is good content for PR.” I didn’t read much into it. I didn’t find it beneficial to the common man on the street, either in the short term or the long term.

The UK is heavily indebted, public sector net debt is over 100% of GDP, and the Labour Party government under Keir Starmer is under pressure to stabilise the economy while maintaining public support. The country is still adjusting to life after Brexit, which has had lasting economic effects. The cost of living crisis persists, with inflation peaking above 10% in 2022 to 2023, and although it has eased, many households still struggle.

The National Health Service is stretched thin, with waiting lists exceeding 7 million patients at some point in recent years. Immigration remains a heated political issue, especially with rising asylum applications, over 70,000 in 2023, and increasing pressure on housing and social services.

So when Tinubu showed up, I saw it more as a film project of make-believe than anything transformative. The pictures were good and bright, as expected. The West has a way of teasing Nigeria about having the best ‘Jollof rice,’ and we always fall for it. At this point, it feels like subtle mockery. Their leaders sprinkle Nigerian slang, we laugh, and the media amplifies it for sensation. We enjoy the moment. The Western world is very skilled at telling people what they need to hear. Not all smiles are real.

While Tinubu’s media team publicised the gains of the trip, amid reports that some supporters were allegedly paid between £300 and £500 to attend welcome gatherings, something more consequential happened quietly.

Tinubu’s Minister of Interior, Olubunmi Tunji Ojo, signed an agreement with the UK Home Secretary, Shabana Mahmood, to improve cooperation on the return of Nigerians with no legal right to remain in the UK. The UK Home Office presented this as a significant step in migration control. The Nigerian Interior Ministry watered down the announcemement in a more dignifying matter. It partly read:

"...........UK government, guarantees that returnees will be treated with dignity, rights retention under domestic law, and may re-enter in the future if they meet the applicable immigration requirements.
It also provides detailed arrangements for the dignified return and reintegration of NIGERIANS who do not have the legal right to remain in the UK".

Compare the above with a Facebook announcement made by the Home Office on the 20th of March:

"We have signed a new agreement with Nigeria to speed up the return of people with no legal right to be in the UK.
Our partnership with Nigeria means we don't have to wait to return people with no right to be here, saving money for the British taxpayer by freeing up space in prisons or detention centres and easing pressure on local communities.
This means quicker action against those who abuse our systems and allows returns to move without delay, while keeping the process fair for those who follow the rules and come here legitimately"

The context tells a more complex story. Nigerians are not among the largest groups arriving illegally in the UK, commiting crimes or gaming the immigration system. Data shows that most irregular arrivals come from countries like Afghanistan, Iran, Syria, and Eritrea. Nigerians in the UK, estimated at over 270,000 residents, are largely in legal migration routes such as work, study, and family visas. Visa overstay rates for Nigerians exist, but they are not among the highest globally.

So why the urgency? Politics.

As expected, African leaders often sign agreements placed before them by Western countries, partly to maintain diplomatic goodwill and ensure smooth visits. Those glossy pictures matter; they signal acceptance and validation. The endorsement of Western leaders, even those who once described Nigeria as “fantastically corrupt,” still carries weight.

The agreement feels like this: a child runs away from home seeking a better future after enduring hardship, and instead of fixing the home, the parent visits the new host to make the child’s stay difficult. You want them back, but to what exactly?

In the age of rising nationalism and global economic uncertainty, living abroad is no longer the dream it once was. Many Nigerian immigrants in the UK quietly admit that the reality is tougher than expected. Some who held executive positions back home now struggle in lower-paying roles abroad, particularly in sectors like construction, warehousing, healthcare, and social care.

Their consolation is often long-term, securing permanent residency and eventually citizenship. According to UK immigration policy, most migrants qualify for Indefinite Leave to Remain after 5 years, but policy discussions have suggested possible extensions to 10 years, which would significantly delay settlement prospects.

For many, especially those in demanding care roles, this means a longer period of economic and professional stagnation. Degrees go unused. Dreams are deferred. The promise of a better future, if not for them, then for their children, keeps them going.

The UK understands this dynamic and continues to adjust its immigration system accordingly. But the underlying question remains: if Nigeria worked, would so many Nigerians still feel compelled to leave?

Yet, the agreement was signed anyway.

The photo ops were brilliant. And I am sure the Minister of Interior, Ojo, will keep his copies as memorabilia.

A friend once shared something a family member told him, something that initially baffled him. He said: “If you ever want to succeed abroad, get a job in a white-dominated establishment. It is the easiest way to grow.”

He added that progress tends to be slower in spaces dominated by Black people because of intense competition and overlapping ambitions. From my experience abroad, there is some truth to this. When one Black professional breaks into a field and thrives, others often follow quickly. It reflects what I call the “I can do” spirit, a powerful drive to improve one’s circumstances.

By contrast, I have seen some white workers remain in the same low-level roles for decades, often by choice. Opportunities come, but they are declined with a casual “I can’t be asked.” Even when peers progress, there is little sense of urgency or comparison. If the job becomes uncomfortable, they move on. Ironically, this creates space for more ambitious individuals to step in. This is not to say they lack ambition, only that it often manifests differently.

This same pattern of observation and replication can be seen in religion on social media.

Eminent figures like Pastor Jerry Eze of Streams of Joy International appear to have drawn inspiration from the success of Pastor Nathaniel Bassey and his widely popular Hallelujah Challenge. With slight adjustments such as timing and delivery, similar formats have been replicated. Since the rise of Jerry Eze’s NSPPD morning prayers and the financial success associated with them, there has been a noticeable surge in pastors, prophets, and clerics, including traditional and Islamic figures, moving onto social media.

The message is consistent. Miracles, prophecies, financial breakthroughs, and divine protection.

Increasingly, many young people seem more interested in benefiting from God than in knowing Him. They outsource spiritual understanding to clerics, seeking quick solutions to life’s problems without personal transformation. On social media, traditional preaching rarely gains traction. But if a speaker appears to reveal personal details, sometimes by simply asking for a name, their “power” is instantly validated in the eyes of viewers.

Platforms like TikTok have become a goldmine for this trend. With nearly 2 billion monthly active users globally and high engagement among 18 to 34-year-olds, TikTok offers an enormous audience. Users spend significant time on the app, and at any moment, regardless of timezone, there is likely a livestream offering hope, healing, or prophecy.

In return, viewers send money through virtual gifts, often without hesitation. The algorithm reinforces this cycle. Engage with one religious livestream, and you are quickly recommended many more. The combination of reach, interaction, and monetisation has made TikTok a hotspot for digital spirituality.

From observation, Pentecostal Christian communities appear particularly active in this space. On the surface, this may seem beneficial for the spread of Christianity. However, a deeper look raises concerns. The motivations behind some of these activities often show signs of personal aggrandisement and financial opportunism.

What may begin as an altruistic effort frequently evolves into a system requiring ongoing financial commitment. In many cases, followers are effectively paying for services, miracles, prophecies, and interventions that cannot be verified.

The rapid rise of social media pastors across Africa also reflects broader socioeconomic realities. History shows that this is not new. During the Great Depression, there was a surge in motivational speakers, pastors, and spiritual figures. People turned to them for hope during a time of widespread hardship and uncertainty.

Africa today faces its own version of prolonged crises. Decades of poor leadership, corruption, unfavourable trade conditions, and external shocks such as the Russia-Ukraine War have driven up the cost of living. Economic pressure continues to mount, and many people are desperate for answers and relief.

In such conditions, the appeal of spiritual intervention becomes stronger.

Social media pastors step into this vacuum, offering explanations for personal struggles and promises of transformation. Unfortunately, as history has shown, this environment also creates fertile ground for manipulation. Many people, in their search for hope, may once again be misled, deceived, or exploited.

Before I start, I must admit that this is a very awkward topic. At the same time, it is an interesting one. I have come across it several times on social media, and the comment sections of such posts never fail to make me laugh. They are hardly factual, but they can be very entertaining. So, don’t take this personally. Just enjoy the gist, drink some cold water, and allow your blood pressure to regulate itself.

In my opinion, wherever human beings work together, whether of the same or opposite sex, depending on their sexual orientation, copulation tends to take place. It is a normal human phenomenon. From my anecdotal observations, any occupation in which people are confined to the same place for long hours each day becomes a red zone where people are easily tempted to sleep with each other.

The tendency is even higher where teamwork and collaboration are essential to getting the job done. As people spend long hours together, official and unofficial conversations begin to flow. Desires and admiration gradually kick in. Conflicts and resolutions also occur. Consciously or unconsciously, people start to see their colleagues as part of their extended family. Familiarity grows, and interests develop.

The progression is usually simple. It innocently starts with a smile, then moves to small talk, then a handshake, and eventually a light hug. Over time, the hugs become tighter and longer — chest to chest.

Those who are very self-controlled keep their fantasies to themselves and suppress those feelings. Others who are more vulnerable find themselves caught in a romantic web without much thought about the future or any proper risk assessment. At that point, people become emotionally entangled and begin to act impulsively.

This is the same technique used by reality shows to foster romantic relationships among participants. They place young people in the same environment, make them do activities together, encourage interactions, and cut off communication with the outside world. Gradually, people begin to lose touch with reality and develop what are often phantom feelings for those around them. I call this the “Big Brother reality show syndrome,” coined from the popular Big Brother television series.

The Healthcare and Social Care Sector

I have worked in Nigeria and the United Kingdom for over a decade combined, across different sectors. From my observation, the healthcare sector, which includes doctors, nurses, and support workers, is one environment where workplace romances frequently emerge.

In the UK, working hours in the health and social care sector can be extremely long. For support staff, the pay is not always fantastic. To make ends meet, many workers pick up multiple shifts. The implication is that people often end up working simply to survive rather than truly living their lives. Other aspects of life may become neglected. For those who are married, even their intimate relationships may suffer.

To compound the situation, the risk increases when staff sit idle during night shifts in residential settings. The UK weather is often cold, and that naturally makes people seek human warmth and companionship. In such circumstances, people who spend long hours together may gradually grow closer.

Anyone who has worked in the health and social care sector in the UK will likely have heard rumours of colleagues becoming romantically involved. Sometimes it almost feels like an unofficial part of workplace culture. Many of these relationships begin as simple friendships before gradually becoming something more.

Often, it starts with a supportive colleague who becomes a trusted confidant — the “work bestie.” Over time, emotional bonds deepen. What may initially feel like a one-time mistake sometimes becomes a repeated pattern.

In the primitive age, unclothedness was the norm. Some societies covered their bodies with leaves. When enlightenment and westernisation reached Africa, many people began to cover themselves more modestly. But ironically, nudity seems to be gradually returning as the norm again. This trend is particularly noticeable among women. It is almost as if an outfit is incomplete unless it reveals some skin. With cleavage-baring outfits, short skirts, crop tops, sleeveless dresses and bikinis, a part of the body is constantly on display. Sadly, it appears this trend may only get worse.

The latest fashion trend, leggings worn by women, beggars belief. They are often so tight that the flesh of the person wearing them appears compressed. Every part of the woman's body becomes exaggerated, pronounced and highly visible. The shape of the buttocks is clearly outlined, and some designs even create a deep division between both cheeks. The area between the legs is often so clearly marked that it leaves very little to the imagination. The thighs are not left out either. In many cases, the clothing seems designed to give a vivid idea of what the wearer’s body looks like without clothes.

Since men are often moved by what they see, the mind of the observer can easily become distracted. Thoughts and desires may be stirred, sometimes against one’s will. Some men who know they stand no chance may even resort to inappropriate behaviour or harassment out of frustration. In some cases, the fabric is so thin that it can even appear transparent. Stare too long, and you may find yourself almost hypnotised.

Women often argue that leggings are comfortable, which explains their popularity. However, their impact on observers, particularly men, is not always positive. These days, some women undergo procedures such as the Brazilian Butt Lift to enhance their figures and then highlight the results with brightly coloured leggings. When such a person walks down the street, it is difficult for many men not to notice them, whether intentionally or not.

A quick look at social media also reveals how common this trend has become. Many posts by young women feature them wearing leggings, displaying their figures to attract attention, followers, and engagement.

Personally, I sometimes wish women would dress more modestly, perhaps even wearing hijabs. I say this because I take life and my spiritual journey seriously, and I prefer not to be constantly distracted by visual temptations. I do not want to lust after what does not belong to me. For that reason, I truly look forward to the day when the leggings trend fades away, just like many other fashion trends that have come and gone.

Daniel Bwala, before politics, was an honourable and admirable man. He was a respected lawyer. I remember when he did political commentaries on Channels TV in 2017. I used to admire his composure and appreciate his views and demeanour.

All of a sudden, Bwala seemed to want more from life. He entered politics, and his political analysis started to go south. I can’t blame him for demanding more from life. However, the moment he became partisan, his views and opinions became watered down. I stopped listening.

He did a fantastic job campaigning for Vice President Atiku Abubakar to become president. He went hard on President Bola Ahmed Tinubu. Little did he know he was only digging his own grave. No insult intended, but I strongly believe greed motivated Bwala to work for Tinubu after previously becoming his adversary.

When Tinubu got Bwala on his side, it might have seemed like a blessing, but in reality, it was a calculated humiliation. Imagine being the image-maker for a man you once castigated on every media platform. Nobody will take you seriously. But in Nigeria, nobody cares about integrity as long as you are successful. In a sane society, serious people would ask questions and expect convincing answers.

To the best of my knowledge, Bwala is nothing but a liability to Tinubu. When it was announced that he would be featured on the Head to Head show on Al Jazeera, I knew there was a serious problem ahead. There was no way Bwala could easily survive an encounter with Mehdi Hasan, who is known for putting unscrupulous politicians under intense scrutiny. Hasan is a journalist among journalists. He talks fast, thinks fast, and reads widely.

When Hasan reached out to Bwala to appear on his show, Bwala should probably have declined. The show was simply not suited for him. Bwala appears more comfortable in a media environment characterised by sycophancy and brown envelopes.

Many of Tinubu’s achievements are seen as mediocrity by the Global North. If Tinubu were performing as well as Bwala and Reno Omokri want us to believe, emigration to Western countries would drop significantly. In fact, several Nigerians in the diaspora would start returning home. The headlines would change, and the West would get the message.

But the reality is the other way round. The UK government is considering extending the citizenship qualification period from five years to between ten and fifteen years, yet most Nigerians still do not want to return home. As challenging as India might be, some Indians have been moving back in significant numbers. Nigerians, however, remain largely unfazed.

During a Sunday service, my pastor referred to Nigeria as “Egypt,” and I felt bad hearing that. There is truly no place like home. But you can hardly blame him.

I don’t believe Bwala did badly during the interview. He simply did his best and was exposed. A seat on the Head to Head show was perhaps too big for him at this stage. The odds were also against him. He has a highly questionable and controversial political history; his principal, Tinubu, is like a rotten fish that is difficult to sell; and Hasan operates on an entirely different level.

Many of those criticising Bwala’s performance had never heard of Hasan until the interview went viral. Hasan is like a ferocious lion, and Bwala was like a wounded antelope before him — easy prey.

I also hear that Bwala is waiting for a part two of the Head to Head interview. Frankly, nobody wants to watch that. It might even cause him more damage. For now, Bwala should probably stick to local media and rebuild his confidence. He should focus on appearances on the National Television Authority (NTA) and other Tinubu-supporting podcasts. That could serve as a warm-up exercise after his difficult outing on the international stage.

Let’s be honest: Bwala ended up doing more harm than good to Tinubu’s reputation internationally.

Traveling abroad is a beautiful experience when done the right way. The exposure is lovely and exciting. The culture shock is an eye-opener. It gives us the chance to learn, unlearn, and re-learn. It gives credence to the saying that learning is a lifelong process. That being said, living abroad isn't for everybody when compared with visiting abroad. If you can afford it, it is enjoyable and pleasurable. Those few days, weeks, or months could educate your mind more than a school.

Living abroad is an entirely different reality. Some people never fit in. Most times, fitting in depends on the phase or status you have achieved in life. If you have a high-paying job, relocating to start all over might not be good for you. If it’s a transfer from one good job to another, then it’s a blessing.

Additionally, if you own a thriving business, you are better off growing it in Nigeria. One of the ways to create wealth is through ownership. Business can be unpredictable in Nigeria, both positively and negatively. With the right connection and contract, an entrepreneur can sleep as a peasant and wake up on a throne with a gold crown.

In recent times, two of my friends in Nigeria who are doing well, to the best of my knowledge, believe their future lies abroad. These are comfortable men with promising businesses in Nigeria. Some of these moves are driven by women—people who can't zoom in on those glossy social media pictures of Nigerians abroad and see what is behind them. I took my time to ask them some strategic questions, and there was radio silence. This is because most people who relocate don't have a strong conviction that their decision is the right one.

The UK, especially, is an upgrade of Nigeria in terms of infrastructural facilities. In 2021, I met a former top bank official who relocated with his family. The man was generally sad. From his presentation, it was clear his wife engineered the move. He worked in a warehouse for a while before moving into healthcare. They gave him a bit of respect, but when he experienced verbal and physical assault by staff or patients, it hit him differently. He couldn't believe his eyes. He later had a stint as a care worker, organizing the personal care of elderly people. Note that care is just a fancy term for wiping bums. Let me add that I am not oblivious to the fact that people grow from blue-collar or transitional jobs to high-paying white-collar jobs. Testimonies abound.

People like this believe they are investing in the future of their children. This is largely true, but only time will tell. I have seen children of immigrants who have missed their way and ended up badly in social vices.

Apart from social media, some clerics also fuel the exodus from Nigeria. During an online service, a prophet declared that some people would be granted visas. The livestream erupted. "Amen!" "I receive it!" serenaded the entire space. I was shocked. In this age of radical nationalism, Africa might be barking up the wrong tree. The current way to gain popularity in Europe and America is to speak against migration. Rupert Lowe of the Reform Party UK is a good example. Nigel Farage is another one. These men are good students of President Donald Trump's school of thought.

Relocating abroad is just like the heavenly race. It is a personal decision. There is no guarantee it will work for you. Individual circumstances need to be critically considered.

I will give special consideration to people who have been kidnapped, escaped kidnapping, or are at risk of being kidnapped. If kidnappers have sent you a warning letter, like the residents of Kwara State, your emergency exit from Nigeria might be justified.

Obi Cubana (Obinna Iyiegbu) and Cubana Chief Priest (Pascal Chibuike Ikechukwu) have been in the news recently, attracting intense public scrutiny. The criticism directed at them has been particularly harsh. Many commentators on social media appear to have unanimously concluded that they are traitors. This is a reaction largely rooted in the high esteem in which they are held and the unrealistic expectations people place on public figures.

A social media influencer, Isaac Fayose, exemplifies this tendency through the fallacy of hasty generalisation and unwarranted assumptions, using them as case studies. He claims that Igbos are easily bought and largely “for sale,” arguing that Obi Cubana, Chief Priest, and their associates could have used their influence to secure clemency for Nnamdi Kanu, who is currently imprisoned in Sokoto State. Surprisingly, many people of Igbo extraction appear to agree with him, and the backlash against this narrative has been unexpectedly mild.

While everyone is entitled to their opinions, public figures inevitably attract scrutiny. Their actions and inactions, are always dissected. This is the downside of fame.

The real issue, however, lies deeper. Nigerians tend to place excessive expectations on certain individuals. We do this with celebrities, political figures, and even religious leaders. Many assume these figures possess moral authority or extraordinary courage, forgetting that they are, first and foremost, human beings. Like most people, they operate by the instinct of self-preservation. Altruism is learned; survival is innate. When stakes are high, people often revert to their default setting: self-interest.

Obi Cubana and Cubana Chief Priest are businessmen with unclear sources of wealth. It is therefore reasonable to assume that they approach life primarily from a business perspective. Their decisions are likely driven less by public interest and more by personal risk calculation. They seek fame, relevance, and proximity to power. While Obi Cubana maintains a more refined and warm public persona, the Chief Priest adopts a louder, more flamboyant style. His approach to fame is unapologetically brash — from public alignments with celebrities to political commentary and recurring social controversies. This is a personality trait, not a crime. Social media simply amplifies such differences, forcing everyone into the same public space regardless of personal preference.

A closer look at Nigeria’s influencer culture reveals a troubling pattern. Many influencers possess little intellectual substance and offer limited value to their audiences. Their platforms often revolve around clout, hype, and future commercial exploitation. Followers elevate them to god-like status, only to feel betrayed when inevitable self-serving decisions are made. In truth, most influencers are conducting strategic risk assessments, choosing paths that maximise reward and minimise exposure.

Political realism further explains this behaviour. Nigeria’s political environment is harsh, unforgiving, and deeply entrenched. Meaningful national transformation remains unlikely in the foreseeable future. What exists instead are narrow windows of opportunity for personal advancement. Those who recognise this reality position themselves strategically. The City Boys understand this. So does Reno Omokri. This was why he shamefully made a U-turn and followed President Bola Tinubu.

Much of the public advocacy for national development often functions as performative activism, designed to mobilise emotions while masking private interests.

Given the political landscape, challenging the current administration carries enormous risks. Criticising President Bola Tinubu openly could invite intense scrutiny from state institutions, particularly anti-graft agencies like the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission, EFCC and the Department of State Security, DSS. For businessmen whose wealth invites curiosity, silence becomes a survival strategy. Those who speak out frequently face intimidation, legal battles, or prolonged harassment. Omoyele Sowore’s endless court appearances, Nasir El-Rufai’s political uncertainty, and Abubakar Malami’s legal troubles illustrate the price of political opposition. Not everyone possesses the threshold for such hardship and self-preservation often prevails. If Chief Priest had the pain threshold, he wouldn’t be that sizeable in the first place.

Democracy demands that we respect personal political choices, whether we agree with them or not. At the ballot box, Obi Cubana and Chief Priest wield no more power than any ordinary citizen. The influence we attribute to them may be exaggerated, magnified by social media illusions rather than real political impact.

Furthermore, the heavily publicised City Boy Movement appears more symbolic than substantive. A seasoned political strategist like Tinubu is unlikely to rely on such theatrics. Electoral victories are secured through institutional control, particularly of bodies like Independent National Electoral Commission, INEC, not influencer culture. The City Boys, at best, generate content, engagement, and public distraction. No substance, no message, all noise like the ghetto songs.

Marriage is a lifetime commitment. It is a decision that can either make or break you. Therefore, it is important to think carefully before choosing your life partner. You need to look in the right places, and as long as you know where to look, you will face fewer problems in the future. Investigation and due diligence are key. This process is simple, affordable, and can be done by anyone without professional skills or expertise.

Simply check her social media accounts and observe what she does online. Since monetisation programmes began on TikTok, Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter, many young women have started displaying extreme behaviour online without restraint, as long as it brings financial gain. The competition for attention is intense — from discussing real or fabricated sexual experiences and fantasies to performing seductive dances. Online feuds with fictional rivals and shocking falsehoods have become common. Some individuals even sell sexual content to potential partners.

By closely examining the nature of her posts and her interactions in the comment section, you can gain insight into what you may face in the long term. If you happen to gain access to her private messages, that is an added advantage.

A notable example is Queen Nadia of Zimbabwe, who amassed over 2.6 million Facebook followers and over three billion views within two months by posting explicit videos. Many people flocked to her page as though she were offering salvation. Her account was eventually taken down.

If your partner has no social media presence or remains inactive, you may need to discover her true character through other means. Do the work now or face the consequences later in marriage. Remember, prevention is better than cure.

The Nigerian marriage institution is patriarchal in nature. It is a male-dominated system. The man is tagged as the head of the family, while the woman is the backbone. The backbone supports the head, which leads. When former President Muhammadu Buhari was asked about his wife’s involvement in politics, he infamously said she belonged in the “kitchen and the other room (bedroom).” This statement exemplified the misogynistic nature of Nigerian society.

A man in Nigeria is a king, and his family is his empire. Most times, he is accorded great respect if he has the financial means. Sometimes, he cheats on his wife, and she feels helpless. In some cases, she may be physically abused. Since the man mainly takes care of the family’s finances, with the woman contributing little or nothing, it becomes difficult for her to leave. It becomes even harder when children are involved, and their welfare must be considered.

Nigerian society also frowns on divorce. A woman might lose everything if it happens. There is little legal framework to protect her and her children. Returning to her father’s house is seen as shameful. On religious grounds, Christianity forbids divorce. Additionally, divorced women are accorded less respect. Some unscrupulous men see divorced women as desperate or undesirable, labeling them as “second-hand” or “fairly used.” Their chances of remarrying become low, and people become overly judgmental when single mothers are presented as brides.

Considering all these factors, many women stay in marriages and smile like they are doing toothpaste advertisements. They pray for change, listen to relationship advisers, and hope for the best.

When you take a woman in this position to the UK, the situation changes. The labour market is more open to women, and sometimes they even have better opportunities than their husbands. Western marriage systems are seen as partnerships where equality is the norm. The system views women as vulnerable and offers them protection. If a man becomes violent, she can call the police and have him removed. There is a legal framework to compel child support payments. A man can lose his home through legal processes. Women can also access immigration and welfare benefits after divorce. Even then, society rarely judges them negatively; instead, they are often seen as strong women who stood up to oppression. Divorce is normal in this part of the world. In 2023, there were 102,678 divorces granted in England and Wales — about 100,000 marriages ending each year.

This reality motivates women to demand equal power and order in marriage. Some even push further.

Most times, African men still pay most household bills but have little say in home affairs. The king of yesterday loses his authority and power. He is easily challenged in his own palace. Frustration sets in, and he becomes toxic. Life in the UK can be boring and lonely. There is often no one to talk to, as everyone is too busy. Work can be competitive and stressful. The cold weather discourages social life. The man runs on empty emotionally, and his home — which should recharge him — becomes another battleground. His mental health suffers. To avoid doing something he may regret, he walks away from the marriage.

The UK did not break these marriages; it gave women power and leverage, and they exercised them. The system simply exposed fragile arrangements. Any man humble and adaptable enough to accept these new realities can still save his marriage.