Reporting News and opinions
The Nigerian voter, having spent considerable time queueing at polling stations, arguing about PVCs, fighting over results and eventually accepting that Nigeria had chosen its president, might reasonably have expected the new administration to get on with the business of governing.
The narrative above is replicated across the 774 local governments in Nigeria. The Supreme Court judgment on Local Government financial autonomy remains iced over in practice. State governors continue to treat local councils as administrative subsidiaries rather than an autonomous arm of government.
There is a peculiar brand of honesty that only slips out when an official forgets to read the democratic script. Usually, freshly inaugurated politicians feel obliged to rehearse the standard civic pieties muttering something about service delivery, the rule of law, or the sovereign will of the people. But every once in a while, the system produces a moment of pure, unvarnished clarity.
There are some moments in political history that survive long after the politicians involved have left office. Not because of a great speech. Not because of a great policy. But because somebody asked a very simple question and refused to let it escape through the nearest political fire exit.
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.
