By Azu Ishiekwene

The former Labour Party presidential flagbearer, Peter Obi, thinks he is Nigeria’s most misunderstood politician. Why is it hard for us to see that his serial party flipping is not a sign of desperation but a tactic of survival for our own good?

Why, even though he has flipped political parties five times in three election cycles, should he be compared to Vice President Atiku Abubakar in political vagrancy? Who is chasing Obi and his new soulmate, former Governor Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso? There are three possible answers.

Tinubu’s hand

The firstsuspect is President Bola Ahmed Tinubu. He has been accused, rightly or wrongly, of having a hand in Obi’s travails. Apart from Obi’s first defection from the All Progressives Grand Alliance (APGA) to the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) in 2014, three of the other four defections in the last 12 years have been blamed on Tinubu.

By the time Obi defected from PDP to the Labour Party in 2022, with about nine months to the general elections, he had transformed from a contender into an insurgent. He defeated Tinubu in his Lagos base and turned what was supposed to be a two-way horse race into a three-way contest, in which he came third with six million votes. Since then, Tinubu has learned the hard way not to ignore Obi.

Obi insurgency

To put an end to Obi’s insurgency, Tinubu allegedly set the Labour Party on fire. He also spread the flame to any other party, including the PDP, where Obi and any other potential challenger might find refuge. According to this argument, Tinubu’s machinations have been achieved mainly through a deadly combination of political proxies and judicial manipulations, leaving Obi with no other option but to run for his life.

Rabiu Kwankwaso’s political wandering has been less fraught nationally. At a point, in fact, it seemed he would join Tinubu’s government – a chance that Obi might never have had by the wildest stretch. Even Obi’s casual meeting with President Tinubu in the Vatican later became a source of speculation over a possible deal to save an embattled bank linked to him.

Whichever way you slice it, those who see Tinubu in every bad dream, egged on by the careless comments of some of his aides and party officials, believe he is responsible for the weakened state of Nigeria’s opposition parties.

Author of his misery

There is a second view of Obi’s inconstancy. Those who hold this view insist that, whatever residual Tinubu effect people may claim, Obi is the author and finisher of his current misery. His desperation is his number one enemy. This argument has never been more salient than in the last week since Obi announced his defection from the ADC to the National Democratic Congress (NDC), a party formed nine years ago but registered only three months ago.

Not even Obi’s comment after he defected to ADC that he would defect 20 times if necessary, has assuaged the suspicion that, except if he was a hermit in a previous life, he is his own greatest problem.

An ADC source told me on Monday night that in the six months he worked with Obi as members of the same party, he had not seen a more desperate politician. Obi, the source said, couldn’t wait for the party to decide who its flagbearer would be and could barely hide his impatience.

To give him comfort, the position of the party’s National Organising Secretary was passed over the former road safety corps marshal, Osita Chidoka, and handed to Obi’s chosen, Chinedu Idigo. Yet, the concern that he could miss the bigger prize troubled him.

ADC. What changed?

There was nothing that Obi saw in the six months that he was in the ADC that he couldn’t have seen from outside one year before he finally decided to join. What is chasing Obi, in particular, is more than Tinubu and desperation combined: it is the fear of a contest. Obi wants the ticket on a platter – no contest, no opposition. Both Obi and his aides have denied this many times, but the evidence is not in their favour.

Four years ago, when he defected from PDP to Labour, he did so three days before the PDP’s presidential primaries. In Labour, he didn’t have to contest. He was handed the party’s flag. But it would be different this time.

If he had stayed in the ADC long enough, he would have either had to contest (direct primaries, a big risk for a politician without party structures) or negotiated with other contestants to be the party’s “consensus candidate,” a risk he could not afford.

So, he bailed out. In NDC, his new shelter, he is, as he was in Labour, the biggest act. After years of boasting that he will not play second fiddle, Kwankwaso will eat the humble pie and be content to be the prop and nothing more.

Kwankwaso and the snake charmer

What has changed since Kwankwaso said at Chatham House that he could not step down for Obi, adding later that Obi was not only an inferior candidate but that the North was unlikely to vote for him? Just like he did in 2023 when he used the NNPP to mobilise Kano votes for his surrogate governor, his gambit this time is to use Obi to mobilise Igbo votes in Kano to secure his base. Better a king in Kano than a spare tyre in Abuja.

But even that won’t be an easy ride. Already, there’s a video of the Kano chairman of the NDC, Usaini Mai Riga (with a live snake wrapped around his neck), invoking a curse on anyone who might think of contesting the party’s leadership with him. The question, therefore, is not who is chasing Obi and Kwankwaso, but what they are chasing.

Blame the system

Of course, there’s a third, completely different view: that it would be a misnomer to hold party-flipping against Obi or Kwankwaso since, unlike in some other countries, Nigeria’s political parties are not differentiated by ideology – they are mere special-purpose vehicles for grabbing power.

Even those who have criticised Atiku’s scandalous record of defections are happy to give Obi and Kwankwaso a pass. They’re in the race, this argument goes, not for themselves, but to find a place to stand to change the country.

That’s not where this argument ends. It insists that no politician in recent times has been haunted by the authorities as vilely as Obi, yet they have found nothing against him, and those haunting him see him as the relatively clean politician they would never be. This was a view strongly expressed in my conversation with an Obi fan who has known him closely for four years.

My response was that politics is messy, and hardly a contest among saints. As vile hauntings go, few have been tested like Atiku, former Senate President Bukola Saraki, Natasha Akpoti, Nyesom Wike, President Goodluck Jonathan, or Tinubu in the last 27 years. Yet, each of them has, to a large extent, stood their ground. There comes a point when you have to stand and fight.

Obi has chosen the politics of convenience. Or maybe, like former President Muhammadu Buhari, we’re expecting of him a quality he doesn’t have. In which case, the fault is ours, not his.

Ishiekwene is the Editor-In-Chief of LEADERHIP and author of the book, Writing for Media and Monetising It.

By Valentine Obienyem 

Honestly, I had resolved not to speak or write about Mr. Kenneth Okonkwo. I had, in fact, given up on him entirely. In my own estimation, I had placed him in a category even lower than what I have come to describe as the “Joe tribe.”

For clarity, we have never accused members of the Joe tribe of being useless. Rather, our concern is that they follow one man so unquestioningly that they have surrendered independent judgment. This tendency often blinds them to fairness, even in their dealings with their own people, where one would ordinarily expect understanding and restraint.

Indeed, the Joe tribe ranks higher than Kenneth Okonkwo in one important respect: they are predictable. One can reasonably anticipate their position on any issue. Once PBAT is involved, they will simultaneously pretend to preach Igbo unity and the pursuit of an Igbo presidency, while insisting – without contradiction – that PBAT alone is qualified to occupy that office.

Kenneth Okonkwo, on the other hand, like Reno Omokiri and Bwara defies such predictability. His positions shift constantly; they are fluid, uncertain, and often difficult to pin down. One is left wondering where he truly stands on any given matter.

If I had decided not to write about him, why then this sudden volte-face? The answer lies in a conversation I had this evening with a seasoned and highly respected journalist. I often call him to exchange views on the state of affairs. As we discussed current developments, he assessed figures such as Mr. Oseloka Obaze, Senator Ben Obi, Senator Victor Umeh, and others with clarity and satisfaction. 

At the end of the conversation, I asked him, almost as an afterthought: “What about Kenneth Okonkwo?”

His response was immediate and dismissive. He advised me to forget about him entirely, describing him simply as “Onuku.” According to him, Okonkwo is merely making noise, oblivious to the deeper political currents at play. In his view, his role is limited to saying whatever his patrons require of him, in exchange for compensation. This description raises an important question: what exactly does Onuku mean?

For the benefit of our non-Igbo readers, it is best explained by Prof. Okey Ikechukwu, who has written extensively on the subject:

“One of the most invidious, most reprehensibly offensive, and roundly disgusting of these masquerades is ‘Onuku.’ The name simply means ‘fool,’ or ‘the fool.’ This masquerade has the form of a man. But what a wretch of a man he represents! Onuku embodies and symbolises degenerate manhood. It is the very worst type of man anyone could possibly hope to see or imagine.

Undignified, unwilling to take part in open, manly contests, a wielder of unearned titles, and a winner of wrestling contests where he either had no challengers or where he first neutralised his opponents by either poisoning or by violating the Rules of Engagement and compromising the umpires. Such a man lives, but no one really knows his means of livelihood. He pays people for loyalty and does not understand the meaning of truth, service, and selflessness.

And Igboland  has had political “Onukus” prancing all over the place for some time now. But back to the masquerade called “Onuku”

His shabbiness is legendary. His looks, in facial features, are undisguisedly repulsive. Its total lack of dignity, grace, and refinement stands out in abject repugnance. Totally without any redeeming feature, Onuku’s costume is offensive, dull, drab, and dreary in every way. The ‘face’ wears a permanent and abominably lecherous leer. The nose runs. The tongue droops, hanging from one side of the mouth, as if it would drop to the ground at any moment. The steps are purposeless. The gait is unsteady. The general movement, considered for a full-grown man, is wishy-washy. The bearing is annoyingly wobbly. The carriage is beggarly. The sagging shoulders suggest everything despicable you can think of in a man.

“Onuku” never walks in a straight line, no! He also does not walk with the sure and firm steps of a healthy or bold man. This masquerade will rather continuously enact the zigzag path of a drunkard as it walks, to the irritation and annoyance of observers. Worse still, he is never accompanied by drummers or assistants.

“Onuku” offers no cheery entertainment of any sort, does not sing, does not dance, does not try to amuse anyone, and does not even ask for money, the way some masquerades do. So, what does Onuku ever really offer?

Watch this masquerade enter the venue of any event and you will throw up your hands in dismay and consternation. Never through the popular pathway or entrance—mbanu! Sneaking into the community square from nearby farms or bushes, unnoticed, is his ken.

Watch him meander to where unsuspecting women are absorbed in the celebrations. See how “Onuku” will, quietly and without warning – at least none of the women will notice on time – inflict hugs and all manner of disconcerting molestations on his unlucky victims.

The only masquerade you would sometimes find receiving beatings from, or getting involved in fights with, women is “Onuku”: a symbol of debauchery, degenerate manhood, and the profane.

This masquerade often made the job of mothers who wished to keep their rascally children on the slippery path of moral rectitude easy. An exasperated mother may rebuke her boy by asking whether he wishes to grow up and become like “Onuku.” It always worked like magic. A shudder would sometimes even accompany many a boy’s emphatic “no” to such a query from his mother. Some boys would burst into tears at the very thought of becoming like “Onuku.” Many a child thus queried may even need to be consoled and petted for a long time thereafter.

Most pregnant women would do anything to avoid setting their eyes on Onuku throughout the duration of their pregnancy. Why? There was the belief that pregnant women should generally avoid bad and abominable things during the period of their pregnancy so as not to give birth to malformed or evil children. Yes, mothers dreaded the thought of giving birth to a creature so wretched, so despicable, and so degenerate in appearance, behaviour, character, and spirit as ‘Onuku’ ‘Onuku’ is just ‘Onuku.’”

In the final analysis, the frightening   similarity between Kenneth Okonkwo and the figure “Onuku”lies not merely in inconsistency, but in a deeper absence of conviction and steadiness in public conduct. Like “Onuku”, he appears unmoored from principle – drifting from one position to another without a clear anchor. A striking example is his posture after the 2023 election, when he dismissed Atiku Abubakar, Bola Ahmed Tinubu, Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso, and Peter Obi, arguing that the country needed an entirely new set of leaders. Yet, not long after, he began promoting Atiku – the very figure he had so recently set aside. Such abrupt reversals reinforce the image of a man whose steps, like those of Onuku, lack direction and firmness. Where one expects consistency and clarity, there is instead a pattern of zigzagging positions, shaped less by conviction than by shifting convenience. Yesterday, Peter was an Angel of Light and descended to become the devil. As soon as he joined the ADC, he became an Angel once more. Today, after joining NDC, he degenerated to a devil again. Like “ Onuku” your beliefs are determined by the fluidity of the moment. 

In the end, Onuku is not merely a masquerade but a moral symbol. He stands as a warning against a life devoid of principle, dignity, and purpose. Wherever such traits appear in public life, the name “Onuku” readily comes to mind.