In the grand tradition of Nigerian political theatre—where facts are optional, drama is compulsory, and press conferences qualify as performance art—Defence Minister Bello Matawalle has emerged as the new Comical Ali of Abuja.
Yes, Comical Ali—the legendary Iraqi spokesman who insisted, with great confidence and zero evidence, that invading forces were being “slaughtered at the gates” even as tanks rolled past behind him.
Nigeria, never to be outdone in the global comedy circuit, has now produced its own sequel.
Enter Matawalle: a man who can confidently announce the capture of bandits before the bandits even finish their brunch.
ANNOUNCING VICTORY BEFORE THE ENEMY ARRIVES
Every few days, Nigerians hear the familiar refrain:
> “Our forces have won a decisive victory. The situation is fully under control.”
And the country looks around like:
“Which situation? Controlled by who? Because the situation outside my gate is still practising taekwondo.”
You could almost set your clock by his updates—breaking news that somehow breaks nothing.
Matawalle has mastered the ancient art of Premature Declaration Syndrome (PDS), a political affliction where leaders announce victory faster than NEPA announces “maintenance.”
THE “IMAGINARY SUCCESS” MINISTRY
If the Ministry of Defence ever needs rebranding, “Ministry of Imaginary Success” is right there waiting.
What makes Matawalle’s declarations so special is the scenic confidence with which he delivers them. He could probably announce:
that Nigeria has won the World Cup
that bandits have surrendered en masse
that Abuja traffic has finally been defeated
all with the same signature calm, steady voice.
Facts? Evidence? Field reports?
Please. Those things only slow down creativity.
A NATIONAL PASSION FOR ANNOUNCEMENTS
To be fair, Nigeria has a long and distinguished history of public officials announcing things that later require amnesia to appreciate. But Matawalle has elevated this to a performance. His briefings read like motivational speeches:
> “We have neutralised the threat.”
Meanwhile the threat is still sending WhatsApp broadcasts.
THE GHOST OPERATIONS
One can’t help wondering:
Are these victories happening in another dimension?
Is the government fighting bandits in the metaverse?
Has Matawalle struck a bilateral security agreement with imaginary forces?
Somewhere, in an undisclosed location, Comical Ali is smiling proudly at his Nigerian protégé.
NIGERIANS: LAUGHING TO HOLD BACK TEARS
The public mood is now a blend of disbelief, resignation, and gallows humour—Nigerians’ favourite survival kit. Whenever Matawalle steps up to the mic, the nation prepares:
“Is this the weekly comedy update?”
“Should we expect special effects?”
“Will this be the one that finally matches reality?”
But no—another triumph is proclaimed, another “decisive blow” is delivered, and another village quietly prays for actual help.
A FINAL WORD
Until genuine security improves, Matawalle’s optimism may remain Nigeria’s most successful defence export. He doesn’t fight bandits—he fights bad vibes.
And in the ever-moving circus of Nigerian politics, one thing is sure:
If Comical Ali had a spiritual son, his name might just be Bello Matawalle.
Centre for Nigeria Progress 