A game of jihads

The way I see it, the “yes daddy” scandal is no scandal at all. I think we all knew all along that the so-called Obidients were for the most part driven by those sectional interests, as reflected by the outcomes of the 2023 general elections. 

This notwithstanding, this turn of events is a death sentence to Mr Obi’s grand political momentum. No personality with the type of appeal and profile that transcends the traditional faultlines of our polity would want to speak for Mr Obi’s candidacy in the future. 

The most damaging aspect of the saga is the fact that Mr Obi actually declared a religious war, practically against his own running mate – and at least half of the people he wanted to rule, or serve, or exterminate. Who knows?

When you go to war, you either kill or be killed, and since the two sides are separated by their religious confessions, I believe I have every reason to believe that Mr Peter Obi would be after my life as the president of this republic; and while heeding the first law of survival, I will have to fight back, and my target will technically be the head of state of the republic.

A two-way traffic of treasonable aggression and counter-aggression thus ensues. For once, I agree with Lai Mohammed. So what then becomes of the businesses of leadership and followership? 

Sadly, this is the reality of the type of relationship that exists between leaders and the led in Nigeria, probably since Shagari. There is hardly such a thing as a patriotic Nigerian in the technical sense of the word. We are mostly just alive and making do with the deal we can get out of the make-believe contraption called a Nigerian citizen.

The dynamic herein is defined by the principles of social Darwinism both at the individual level as well as at the level of class institutions – if it takes a religious war, or a crusade, for Mr Obi as a Christian to get to Aso Rock, it might have to take a jihad for me, a Muslim, to survive his reign. 

Thus, our daily interactions with power as citizens of this republic are reduced to a game of jihads. To non-Muslim minds, the word jihad has become synonymous with a form of religious extremism that causes a great deal of fear and suspicion. Well, that is exactly what I believe Mr Obi referred to as “religious war,” and to him and others who do not understand me, any mention of the same word on my own part also represents the efforts of Islamic extremist groups against him and his kind. 

The truth is that Mr Obi is not a thief, he just happened to have been caught. He was caught trying to take advantage of that boon he could only capitalise on when he plays the religious card, the game of jihads in the Nigerian sense. But for all I know, Mr Obi should be the last person to call for a religious war on behalf of Christianity. This is the same as how many Muslim political candidates play that game to cash in on the parochial sentiments of the people they are out to deceive.   

I must reiterate here that I did not vote for Obi and did not root for his candidacy either. I was actually one of those who thought of that whole Obidient thing as a joke. It turned out to be a serious joke though – a testament to the effect his campaign angles, parts of which have been revealed, had on the psyche of a regular Nigerian Christian person.  

Part of the reason I did not particularly favour Mr Obi’s candidacy was because I quite frankly did not trust him, and that temperament stands materially vindicated by the tales told by “yes daddy”. 

My point is, let’s not crucify Mr Obi because he was defeated in the game of jihad. We ought to let those who are without that type of sin do the job.