By Valentine Obienyem
The immediate provocation for this column came from a raw yet piercing observation by Yetunde Onigbogi, who, in her recent public commentary, referred to Reno Omokri as a “useful idiot.” Though harsh, the term aptly captures the tragic arc of a man who once claimed the high moral ground but now flounders in the muddy waters of political opportunism.
Onigbogi did not mince words: “Shameless man without principle. The same man you openly disgraced in London has suddenly become omo ologo all because you just need to fill your stomach. You have supported Atiku and disowned him. You supported Obi and disowned him, attacked Tinubu and now praising him… A man of honour will even do things with decency and modicum of shame but look at you: 360⁰ turn around without shame. No wonder the international media stopped giving you space to talk about Nigerian politics. They know you have no honour…”
This is not just a personal attack, it is a lament, a mirror held up to a man who has transformed from an activist into an apologist, from a critic of power to its most eager errand boy. His journey has been one of political somersaults – supporting Atiku, then abandoning him; praising Obi, then denouncing him; vilifying Tinubu, then suddenly worshipping him. Reno Omokri is no longer a commentator. He has become a caricature.
The term “useful idiot,” coined by Lenin, refers to those who are temporarily exploited by a cause or movement, only to be discarded when their usefulness expires. In Reno, we find such a figure: deployable, disposable, and deluded into thinking he is indispensable. His recent genuflection before Tinubu’s presidency is not a demonstration of ideological conversion, but of sheer desperation for relevance. It is, as the Stoic Epictetus warned, the folly of one who seeks the approval of others without first seeking the approval of his own conscience.
Once a frequent guest of international media platforms, Reno now finds those doors quietly closed. He has not been silenced by censorship but by irrelevance. Editors have concluded what many Nigerians are beginning to realise: that Reno’s words carry no weight, no conviction, only a noise that fluctuates with the promise of political patronage.
His defenders may argue that political shifts are natural. True. But a principled shift is always marked by reasoned justification and moral consistency. Reno’s turns are not evolution, they are erosion. A man of honour may change his mind, but he does so with clarity and regret – not with celebratory cynicism. “Renoism,” a nihilistic philosophy, is one we shall explore in the future and encourage students to research.
The philosopher Socrates taught that “the unexamined life is not worth living.” By contrast, Reno lives an over-publicised yet unexamined life, changing positions without pause, without shame, and certainly without reflection. His is a journey not guided by ideals but by impulses, a survivalist in a political jungle he once claimed to stand above.
The Yoruba political establishment, whose praises he now sings and whose clothes he now adore like Alcibiades are no fools. They remember. They record. And they reserve trust for those who show consistency, not those who return with flowery apologies and temporary usefulness. If Reno thinks his recent alliance buys him credibility, he misunderstands the very nature of Yoruba political memory: it forgives occasionally, but it seldom forgets betrayal.
One is reminded of Machiavelli, who wrote, “He who builds his own fortune on the caprice of princes builds on sand.” Reno has built on nothing firmer. Once this season passes, he will discover – as others have – that his usefulness was only tactical. No more.
If Reno’s career ends as a footnote in Nigerian politics, it will not be because he lacked intelligence. It will be because he lacked honour. History does not judge men merely for their eloquence or activism, but for their steadfastness. A man who claims to stand for the people but switches camps at every political convenience has not only betrayed others, he has betrayed himself.
There is still time, perhaps, for Reno to recover some measure of dignity. But that path begins with silence, reflection, and the courage to say: “I was wrong.” Until then, he will remain what Yetunde so aptly named him – a useful idiot, admired by no one, remembered by few, and trusted by none.
Obienyem, a Lawyer, writes from Awka
