Why Has Asari Dokubo’s ‘Patriotic Investment’ In Nigeria Plc Gone Unrewarded? Surely, Someone Forgot His Dividends!

By Isaac Asabor

The Nigerian saga has produced some unexpected scenes, but the latest mystery seems to center on one man’s puzzling predicament: Asari Dokubo’s unreturned "investment" in Nigeria Plc. You see, patriotism has its costs, but it is supposed to have its payoffs too, isn’t it? After years of waving the country’s flag (metaphorically, of course) and making plenty of patriotic deposits into Nigeria's complex socio-political landscape, it seems Dokubo, our beloved "investor," has been left without his expected returns.

For the sake of clarity, it is germane to opine that Asari Dokubo has since few days ago been voicing out his frustration on social media platforms over his perceived lack of compensation for his substantial support of President Bola Tinubu's campaign. Dokubo, a former militant leader, claims he "emptied his bank account" to ensure Tinubu’s victory, only to feel sidelined in the ongoing post-election. In a viral video, he expressed disappointment, stating that Tinubu no longer seems to embody the qualities he once admired. This disillusionment has led him to declare a shift in his political alliances, aligning with Northern leaders over further collaboration with Tinubu or the Yoruba political bloc.

One can only wonder, was there a bureaucratic slip-up? Did someone forget to add him to the list? Or, is it possible that his long-time championing of all things Nigeria simply was not seen as an "investment" in the eyes of the powers that be? Let us investigate the mystery surrounding this unpaid patriot’s dividend claim.

Asari Dokubo’s long-standing commitment to Nigeria is one of profound (and profoundly misunderstood) loyalty. Since his youthful days, Dokubo has persistently advocated for what he deems to be fair for his homeland. Now, this advocacy has not been all sunshine and rainbows. There has been plenty of fire, a touch of brimstone, and let us not forget the consistent insistence on the “rights” and “entitlements” that every Nigerian, or perhaps certain regions, ought to receive.

Dokubo’s notion of patriotism was as strategic as a high-stakes investment portfolio, built on calculated inputs designed to yield impressive outputs. His voice, though sometimes thunderous, was an "investment" in Nigeria’s future. And what is the traditional reward for any wise investor? Dividends, of course.

The first (and perhaps the most generous) explanation is that some bureaucrat in Nigeria’s convoluted accounting system failed to process Dokubo’s claim. After all, given Nigeria's legendary red tape, it is entirely plausible that his "dividends" simply got caught up in a bureaucratic bottleneck. Was there a form he did not fill out in triplicate? A forgotten handshake? Or, worse, did he misplace his special loyalty card, the kind that entitled him to returns from Nigeria Plc’s much-guarded coffers?

One has to wonder if Dokubo was simply given the short end of the stick here. After all, other "investors" seem to receive their dividends promptly, whether in the form of plum government contracts, high-ranking appointments, or generous stipends for their “services.” It is easy to understand why our protagonist might feel somewhat forgotten in this distribution chain.

If Dokubo’s investment did not exactly follow the standard IPO process, it certainly was not for lack of effort. Dokubo’s strategic deployment of the megaphone, a time-tested Nigerian tactic, demonstrated his firm commitment to putting Nigeria’s issues (and sometimes his own) on the front and center. Akin to a CEO shouting from the boardroom, Dokubo’s voice echoed in town halls, city streets, and perhaps even the halls of power.

His words, his calls, and his criticisms were, in his eyes, contributions to a better Nigeria, or at least a Nigeria where he could enjoy a greater say. As far as he is concerned, that is worth a reward, or at the very least, a “thank you” payout.

Could it be that his chosen “investment portfolio” of words and political positioning did not yield the tangible returns he expected because they were, well, intangible? After all, Nigeria Plc is not exactly known for compensating emotional investments. No, in this company, the real rewards go to those who show their loyalty in tangible assets, cash, contracts, or strategic alliances.

One would be forgiven for assuming that, given Nigeria’s trend of dishing out "dividends" to those loyal to the cause, Dokubo’s turn at the payout counter would be inevitable. After all, many others have received their own pieces of the pie. From pipelines to oil fields and cushy political appointments, there has been no shortage of rewards doled out to those who have shown the right allegiance.

And yet, Dokubo finds himself surprisingly empty-handed. Could it be that his investment, while perhaps genuine, did not quite meet the criteria? Was it too loud? Too forceful? Or perhaps, not fully “aligned” with the core objectives of Nigeria Plc’s "Board of Directors"?

Let’s face it: Nigeria Plc seems to favor a particular style of loyalty, the type that is best kept low-key, behind closed doors, and accompanied by financial contributions in all the right places. Dokubo’s outspoken nature, while certainly entertaining, may simply not have fit this corporate mold.

Dokubo’s trouble might be as simple as not understanding Nigeria Plc’s delicate payout system. Other investors, who often make less noise, seem to understand the game far better. They play by the rules of quiet acquiescence, smooth deal-making, and knowing when to shake hands and when to keep quiet.

Dokubo, however, has always been a man who lays his cards on the table, a tactic that, while appreciated by the public, may not have sat well with the board members of Nigeria Plc. Perhaps, if he had learned to lower his volume a few decibels, to cultivate a subtler approach, he might have found himself in a more favorable position. The quiet “investors” do not need to shout; they know their dividends will arrive on schedule, no fuss required.

It is possible Dokubo’s situation will serve as a lesson for future “investors” in Nigeria Plc. Perhaps, instead of shouting for change, they will opt for a quieter form of advocacy, the kind that happens behind closed doors, with contracts signed in ink, not blood. Or, maybe Dokubo simply needs a better broker, someone who can teach him the finer points of Nigeria’s dividend-payout etiquette.

Still, Nigeria Plc should consider what a message this sends to potential investors. If patriots like Dokubo cannot receive their dividends, how can anyone trust the system? If loyalty goes unrewarded, where is the incentive for others to step up and contribute? Nigeria Plc might want to rethink its strategy if it hopes to attract more voices willing to support its “shareholders.”

As Dokubo ponders his next move, perhaps it is time for a change in investment strategy. If Nigeria Plc has no dividends to offer, there is always the potential of exploring other, more profitable ventures, like starting his own “investment firm” where the rules are a bit more straightforward and returns a bit more guaranteed.

Who knows, maybe one day Nigeria Plc will come around and pay out those overdue dividends. Until then, Dokubo might just have to settle for the satisfaction of knowing that, for better or worse, he has invested in a cause close to his heart, even if it does not come with a dividend check at the end of the day.

In the end, one can only hope Dokubo’s situation serves as a cautionary tale for Nigeria Plc’s "management team." If those who speak loudest and invest the most are left unrewarded, who will take their place when the time comes? Because in Nigeria Plc, everyone has a role, a contribution, and perhaps, a dividend. As for Dokubo, let us hope his time to cash out is just around the corner. After all, he has waited long enough, hasn’t he?