
Every time, when a prominent Nigerian dies, our newsfeeds and front pages fill with glowing tributes. “Great patriot… visionary… selfless leader…” the headlines proclaim. It has become ritualistic — so predictable that it almost feels scripted.
But there’s a profound contradiction here: as we sing the praises of these leaders in death, the reality experienced by most Nigerians seldom resembles the ideals we ascribe to them. In fact, if the aggregated paeans in obituaries were truly reflective of a leader’s impact, Nigeria should be a vastly different country by now. Yet its major challenges — insecurity, economic stagnation, poor healthcare, endemic corruption and institutional decay — persist. This dissonance raises a big question: are we celebrating leadership or merely preserving myths?
A Culture of Hagiography Over History
In many Nigerian obituaries, the narrative is overwhelmingly positive, focusing almost exclusively on personal virtues while glossing over failures — as if death magically erases accountability. This pattern was already evident in 2021 critiques: commentators noted how tributes tended to accentuate praise and avoid sober appraisal of leaders’ legacies.
Traditional norms explain part of this: culturally, we rarely speak ill of the dead, and many communities see lavish praise as a way of honouring ancestors. But when this turns into uncritical glorification — especially of public figures who shaped policy and governance — we undermine our ability to learn from their actual stewardship. Academic analyses of obituary practice in Nigeria show that obituaries are often shaped as idealised narratives rather than truthful historical accounts.
Recent Cases That Underscore the Gap
Consider some of the Nigerian leaders whose deaths in recent years drew national attention:
Muhammadu Buhari: The former president, who died in July 2025 at 82, was lauded by supporters for his anti-corruption stance and austere lifestyle. Yet critics described his leadership as a “colossal disaster,” pointing to missed opportunities for systemic reforms and persistent insecurity.
Oba Sikiru Kayode Adetona: The Awujale of Ijebuland died the same day as Buhari. His six-decade reign was celebrated for cultural preservation and community leadership — a different kind of legacy that resonated widely.
Edwin Kiagbodo Clark: A respected elder statesman and advocate for minority rights, Clark’s passing in 2025 was widely mourned as the loss of a principled voice.
Doyin Okupe & Omoniyi Caleb Olubolade: Each left distinct footprints — one as a political communicator and philanthropist, the other as a public servant — but both received tributes that dwelled largely on virtues rather than a balanced assessment of their public roles.
These deaths are marked by sincere grief, genuine appreciation for certain contributions, and real communal loss. But the broader pattern — eulogising without critical context — riskily distorts history.
Why This Matters
Celebrating life is one thing. But uncritical celebration of leadership does three harmful things:
1. It erases accountability. Leaders who presided over crises have their failures obscured, making it easier for similar leadership styles to recur.
2. It distorts public memory. When eulogies are divorced from evidence, collective memory becomes a repository of myths rather than truth.
3. It stunts national growth. Nations that confront the complexity of their leaders’ legacies — good and bad — are better positioned to learn and reform.
A Ghanaian commentary on the topic succinctly argues that praise in death is not proof of a good life; leadership must be judged by impact, not posthumous PR.
Towards Honest Memory and Better Leadership
If we want a real Nigeria — not just a sentimental one — we need to rethink how we remember the architects of our public life. That means:
Honouring truth in obituaries: Include both achievements and shortcomings.
Encouraging historical literacy: Schools and media should teach leadership history factually, not mythologised.
Holding leaders accountable before and after death: Respect doesn’t require sanitising the record.
Obituaries can be spaces of reflection, not revisionism. They should help us grapple honestly with leadership legacies — and through that, better understand where the country truly stands.


