Remember the good old days when politicians were treated like minor deities? Back in the UK, leaders ascended to power wrapped in such thick layers of pomp, circumstance, and blind reverence that you could practically smell the incense. Accountability? Never heard of her.
Then came Not the Nine O’Clock News in the late 1970s and 80s, detonating the illusion. By dragging politicians out of their ivory towers and turning them into punchlines, British comedy did what decades of stern editorials couldn’t: it stripped away the mystique. It brought politics to the people, and suddenly, grinning in Parliament didn’t save you from being publicly roasted. Accountability was finally invited to the chat.
Meanwhile, in Nigeria…
Nigeria is currently trapped comfortably in the “Before Times.” Here, politicians are still treated like imperial monarchs on a royal tour. They don’t answer questions; they grant audiences. Journalists nod politely while being fed rehearsed PR fluff, unchallenged and unbothered, while the public picks up the tab.
Case in point: Nyesom Wike, the Federal Capital Territory Minister, was once asked how on earth he could afford a Rolls-Royce. His response with a straight, unblinking face? “And so what?”
And just like that… crickets. No follow-up questions, no scandal alarms ringing, just a collective national shrug. Classic pre-enlightenment behavior.
Enter Isbae U and the Olusegun Obasanjo Comedy Hour
Just when you thought the untouchable aura of Nigerian leaders was permanent, a tiny crack appeared in the monolith.
Enter Adebayo Ridwan Abidemi, better known as Isbae U and his hit YouTube street podcast, Curiosity Made Me Ask. His guest? None other than former military ruler and civilian president, Olusegun Obasanjo.
It was a historic collision of two completely parallel universes. Nigerians watched in absolute shock as a former head of state, a man whose frown used to make entire ministries tremble, sat down for a light, deeply irreverent entertainment program. There were no stiff policy memos, no heavy-handed propaganda. Just pure laughter, playful disrespect, and a staggering amount of fun.
For the first time ever, a Nigerian ruler was completely, irrecoverably humanized.
Over Two Million Views Later…
The internet didn’t just watch; it devoured it. The episode rocketed past two million views almost instantly, proving that the public is more than ready to trade bootlicking for banter.
Could this finally be the dawn of a new era for the Nigerian public space? If we can laugh at former presidents on a comedy podcast, maybe, just maybe, we can start holding current ones to the fire.
Until then, excuse me while I go practice saying “And so what?” next to a luxury car I can’t afford.
