Welcome Home, Mr. President—But This Time, Face What You Cannot Escape

Source: Prof. John Egbeazien Oshodi

Mr. President, welcome back to the chaos you left behind after what the administration called "working holidays" and leave for you—two weeks spent abroad while Nigeria struggles under the weight of darkness, hunger, hopelessness, and corruption. Your return is not marked by triumph, but by the painful cries of a nation longing for leadership. You left Nigeria to attend to foreign matters, but the challenges you abandoned have only grown in your absence. And now, they confront you directly—there’s no running away. We hope you do not run out of time soon. Ask yourself: how long can the people be maltreated before they can take no more?

During your working vacation in France and England, Nigeria’s national electric grid failed at least two times in a single week or so. Plunging tens of millions into suffocating darkness—literal and symbolic—this collapse only underscores the reality: our systems are in decay. This isn't just an inconvenience, Mr. President, it’s a deep wound in the nation's psyche. How much longer can Nigerians endure this endless, crippling darkness?

While you enjoyed the hospitality of foreign nations, back home Nigerians are literally starving. Food and fuel prices have skyrocketed to levels that make basic meals unattainable for millions. Hunger isn't just a statistic; it’s a daily, gnawing pain. Senate President Godswill Akpabio's callous remarks about "free food" only added insult to injury. His words landed like a slap in the face of those who struggle to afford even a loaf of bread. This isn't leadership, it’s mockery, and it deepens the rift between the people and those who claim to represent them.

Inflation continues its rampage, while the naira's value fluctuates unpredictably. Yes, during your absence, there was a glimmer of hope as the naira slightly appreciated, but this means little when the average Nigerian still faces unbearable prices for essential goods. Nigerians are being financially suffocated. They are paying the price for the disastrous economic policies under your administration. How much longer, Mr. President, will you let this economic suffocation go on before it leads to something far worse?

You must also confront the judiciary’s collapse—an institution that is rapidly becoming a national embarrassment. Once the defender of justice, it is now riddled with contradictions, delays, and political interference. Court orders clash in public view, and rulings are no longer respected as symbols of law and order. Nigerians have lost faith in the judiciary as the final arbiter of justice. They see it as a stage for political theater, where the powerful twist the law for personal gain. The rot is deep, and it’s spreading.

Journalists, too, are under siege. The recent raid on journalist Edna Ulaeto's home by the DSS isn’t just a random act—it is part of a larger assault on free speech. The message is clear: dissent will not be tolerated. The freedom of the press, the very foundation of democracy, is being eroded, piece by piece. Your administration is overseeing a nation where speaking truth to power has become a dangerous act. This is dictatorship by another name, and it cannot be ignored.

Mr. President, as you touch down, your ally, Minister Nyesom Wike, continues his embarrassing and divisive feud with Rivers State Governor Siminalayi Fubara. The whole nation watches as this petty squabble unfolds, not as mere political theater, but as a stark insult to a country that is desperate for leadership, unity, and direction. At a time when Nigerians are grappling with critical crises, these public spats serve only to deepen frustration and disillusionment.

Each time Wike inflames tensions, he praises your name, playing a game that casts a shadow on your leadership. His swift alignment with you creates the perception that you are not only aware but complicit in his political maneuvers. Nigerians are asking: Are you?

The Afenifere group has issued a stark warning, cautioning your government against blindly following foreign economic advice, particularly from the World Bank. This isn't just academic critique—these warnings speak to the soul of a nation that must forge its own path. The foreign prescriptions often offered to us by the likes of the World Bank ignore Nigeria’s social and cultural realities. Are you, Mr. President, willing to listen to your people, or will you continue to bend to foreign powers at the expense of Nigerian lives?

While these systemic failures play out, Nigeria's landscape is scarred by tragedy. The recent fuel tanker explosion in Jigawa State that killed more than 150 people wasn’t just an accident—it was the byproduct of poverty, desperation, and government neglect. People are forced to take life-threatening risks to survive in this economic hellscape your administration is presiding over. Those lives lost in Jigawa were preventable, and their deaths are a direct indictment of your governance. Their blood is on the hands of this administration.

Former President Olusegun Obasanjo recently lamented the burial ground of policies in Nigeria—a country where grand plans are announced but never realized. In his words, Nigeria has become a nation where dreams go to die. He wasn’t just casting stones, Mr. President—he was issuing a warning. His comments, made at the 8th Engr Brig Gen (rtd) Micheal Agu Annual Distinguished Lecture, pointed specifically to failures like the National Space Research and Development Agency (NASRDA), which can’t even pay its workers anymore. What was once a symbol of national ambition has become another relic of unrealized potential. Is this the fate of every Nigerian institution under your administration?

Yes, we understand that you have health concerns. We’ve seen the reports of your frequent trips to France, London, and other far-flung places for medical care. But Mr. President, have you ever stopped to think: why not develop Nigeria’s healthcare system so that you—and the millions of others who suffer daily—don’t have to fly thousands of miles just to see a doctor? It’s almost comical at this point, isn’t it? How can a leader of over 200 million people not receive treatment in his own country? Perhaps it’s time you invite your doctors from France and London to come here—yes, let them treat you here in Nigeria. Maybe while they’re at it, they can offer some advice on how to fix our broken health system.

You see, Mr. President, it’s hard for Nigerians to take the government seriously when their leader seems to prefer spending time abroad. It’s hard to believe in promises of reform when every crisis at home seems to be met with yet another flight to Paris. But, for now, let's try something new. How about staying in Nigeria for the coming weeks? Try it out. No flights. No fancy medical trips. Just you, your people, and the mess we’re all trying to clean up.

Your Vice President, Kashim Shettima, has become a symbol of this disconnection. While both of you have spent 180 days—nearly half a year—abroad on foreign trips, Nigeria’s crises have intensified. The optics are horrifying; you are both literally and figuratively absent.

Labour Party presidential candidate Peter Obi has been a vocal critic, expressing deep concern over these foreign trips at a time when Nigerians are grappling with domestic crises. He questioned why, during bilateral talks in Stockholm, Sweden, you were absent and instead delegated the Vice President to represent you. Obi’s criticism reflects the frustration of many Nigerians who feel that their leaders are out of touch with the realities on the ground.

Akinwumi Adesina of the African Development Bank reminded us that after 64 years of independence, Nigeria should be leading among developing nations, not lagging. Yet, we remain in decline, trapped in a cycle of poor governance and missed opportunities.

Mr. President, the nation is at a breaking point. Nigerians are crying out in pain and despair. While you’ve been traveling, the country you were elected to lead is being engulfed by darkness, hunger, and hopelessness. Leadership from 30,000 feet in the air isn’t enough. The symbolic and practical need for you to be on the ground, engaging with the people’s pain, cannot be overstated.

While the Presidency has defended these trips, insisting that they do not create a leadership vacuum, the optics remain troubling. Nigeria is facing unprecedented challenges—from economic collapse to national insecurity—and the frequent absences of its top leaders raise doubts about the government's ability to manage these crises effectively.

Yes, we live in a virtual world where leaders can technically govern from anywhere, but the symbolic importance of being present, especially during times of crisis, cannot be overstated. The country is burning, Mr. President. Nigerians are hungry, insecure, and without hope, and what they need now is a leader who is visibly engaged with their pain and actively working towards solutions.

Mr. President, Akinwumi Adesina of the African Development Bank (AfDB) recently reminded us that after 64 years of independence, Nigeria should be leading, not lagging, among developing nations. Yet, we find ourselves in a state of constant decline, struggling with issues that should have been resolved long ago. Poverty, unemployment, and social vices plague our youth, while the nation remains stuck in a cycle of poor governance and lack of visionary leadership.

Former President Obasanjo was right—Nigeria has become a burial ground for good ideas and great potential. But, Mr. President, it’s not too late to change that. The people are still waiting for you—for leadership, for courage, for action. But they are growing weary, and their patience is wearing thin.

Mr. President, the nation is at a breaking point. Nigerians are crying out in pain and despair. While you’ve been traveling, the country you were elected to lead is being engulfed by darkness, hunger, and hopelessness. Leadership from 30,000 feet in the air isn’t enough. The symbolic and practical need for you to be on the ground, engaging with the people’s pain, cannot be overstated.

Mr. President, the events today at the Lekki Toll Gate serve as a powerful reminder that Nigerians will not be silenced, no matter how much force is used to suppress their voices. As we commemorate the fourth anniversary of the #EndSARS protests, it’s clear that the people’s desire for justice and an end to brutality has not waned. No amount of teargas or intimidation will stop the Nigerian people from demanding the change they deserve. Their fight for survival, dignity, and a better future will continue, no matter the obstacles.

You once promised leadership—"Emi l'okan"—claiming it was your turn. Nigerians are now asking: your turn for what? To watch from a distance as our hospitals collapse? To observe from afar as the naira depreciates and inflation strangles households? To lead a nation from Paris or London while we suffer?

Mr. President, no amount of police brutality can suppress the people's demand for justice. The #FearlessInOctober protests are not just about fuel prices—they are a desperate cry for survival. As your government prioritizes the recommendations of the World Bank over the welfare of Nigerians, your people are dying. They demand a leader who will stand with them, not jet off to foreign capitals.

Mr. President, we acknowledge the immense challenges you face in leading Nigeria, a nation grappling with complex issues that demand unwavering resilience and determination. We recognize that navigating these turbulent waters is no easy feat, and while we urge you to be present with your people, we also commend the efforts you've made amid the hardships and the weight of expectations that come with your office.

Mr. President, welcome back to the chaos you left behind—two weeks spent abroad while Nigeria crumbles under the weight of darkness, hunger, hopelessness, and corruption. We hope you do not run out of time soon. Ask yourself: for how long can the people be maltreated? How long can Nigerians endure this pain before the tipping point is reached? The cries for justice and survival are growing louder, and no amount of distance or silence will make them fade. The time to act is now, before it's too late.

The future of Nigeria hangs in the balance. Mr. President, this is your moment. Welcome home—but this time, don’t run away from the mess you left behind. Lead.

Prof. John Egbeazien Oshodi
Professor John Egbeazien Oshodi, born in Uromi, Edo State, Nigeria, is an American-based police and prison scientist, forensic psychologist, public policy psychologist, and legal psychologist. He’s a government advisor on forensic-clinical psychological services in the USA and the founder of the Dr. John Egbeazien Oshodi Foundation for Psychological Health. With a significant role in introducing forensic psychology to Nigeria through N.U.C. and Nasarawa State University, he’s also a former Secretary-General of the Nigeria Psychological Association. He’s taught at esteemed institutions like Florida Memorial University, Florida International University, Nova Southeastern University, and more, and is currently an online faculty member at ISCOM University, Weldios University and Walden University.

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