Reporting News and opinions
It issues pronouncements, launches programmes, commissions projects, publishes budgets, announces reforms and produces an endless supply of political speeches. Ministers hold press conferences. Governors commission flyovers. Presidents announce ambitious economic transformations. Political parties publish manifestos promising a better Nigeria.
The framers of the United States Constitution expected conflict. They expected ambition. They expected rivalry between the executive, legislative and judicial branches of government.
Ah, Edo State, the ancient kingdom of Benin, where bronze casters once made art that still makes the British Museum sweat, and modern politicians make drama that makes Nollywood blush. If Nigerian politics is a never-ending telenovela, Edo is the season where everyone keeps switching wigs, parties, and loyalties faster than a market woman dodging rain. Let’s stroll through this glorious chaos, shall we?
There was a time when nations had the decency to wait until a leader was safely six feet under or at the very least, out of office before plastering their name across state infrastructure. The unspoken rule of public memorials used to be simple: let history render its verdict first. If your legacy survived the passage of time without decaying into scandal, perhaps the state would name a secondary school or a modest bypass after you.
Passports are supposed to be the great equalizers of national identity. If two people carry the green-backed book stamped with the Nigerian coat of arms, the constitution insists they share the exact same claim to fundamental dignity and justice. But citizenship, like roaming data on a prepaid SIM, appears to depend entirely on which borders your passport happens to cross.
