Reporting News and opinions
There is an old British habit that refuses to die. When the public finances look awkward, someone reaches for the national costume box, pulls out the Union Jack, and declares that the only patriotic course is to ask the people with the least to tighten their belts a little more. The word of the hour is always “austerity.” The justification is always necessity. The result is almost always the same.
It wants to celebrate Britain as the greatest country in the world while simultaneously proposing policies that would make large parts of Britain less British.
The slogan gained prominence in the aftermath of the Birmingham pub bombings and the subsequent conviction of six Irish men the now infamous Birmingham Six. Their case quickly became a lightning rod for allegations of coerced confessions, police misconduct, and a justice system more interested in closure than correctness.
Chief Daniel Osi Orbih is dead, and Edo State’s political class has responded the way it always does when one of its own departs: with a grief so generous it retroactively forgives everything the man ever did. Orbih passed away on Monday, 31 August 2026, at the age of 64, and within hours the condolences arrived in a queue, each one more magnanimous than the last, as though the deceased had spent his career building roads rather than blocking them.
If you had told a political scientist thirty years ago that a lineup featuring Boris Johnson, Nigel Farage, Donald Trump, and Bola Ahmed Tinubu would simultaneously dictate the fortunes, policies, and discourse of major world democracies, they would have recommended you take a quiet walk and a cold shower. Yet here we are, sitting in the front row of a geopolitical comedy-drama where the plot is made up and the rules don't seem to matter.
