ACCORDING to reports, more than 30 people lost their lives during the build-up to the governorship election held in Osun State on August 15. Only on Monday, two people were confirmed killed in Ikire during a shooting incident linked to a motor park takeover bid. Last week, a gun attack erupted around the palace of the Ataoja of Osogbo shortly after Governor Ademola Adeleke visited the traditional ruler on a courtesy visit after receiving his Certificate of Return from the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC). These attacks show that the violence in the state has not abated. They reflect the cataclysmic nature of politics in Nigeria. They are an inglorious reminder that the culture of violence, cultism, and political intimidation has acquired an audacity that should alarm every responsible citizen.
Preliminary findings by the Osun State Police Command indicate that the target of last week’s attack in Osogbo was music star David Adeleke, popularly known as Davido, who accompanied the governor, his uncle, to the palace. According to the police, one Adebayo Taoreed, also known as ‘Small Rugged’, allegedly attempted to gain access to the singer but was prevented by members of his security team. The confrontation reportedly drew other suspected members of the Eye Confraternity, who obstructed the governor’s convoy and precipitated the gun battle. Whatever the motive, one fact remains deeply disturbing: armed men felt sufficiently emboldened to confront a governor’s convoy in the heart of Osogbo, the state capital. That is not an ordinary criminal episode, but a direct assault on public order and an ominous challenge to the authority of the state.
The security personnel deserve commendation for responding swiftly and preventing what might have become an even greater catastrophe. Yet, praise for the security response cannot substitute for the harder task of dismantling the criminal networks that made such an incident possible. The reported death of 60-year-old Tajudeen Yusuf, allegedly shot while the assailants fled, makes the matter all the more grievous. It is a reflection of the heartlessness of men who have apparently mistaken the streets for a theatre of impunity. As Shakespeare reminds us in Macbeth, ‘Blood will have blood.’ A society that permits violence to go unanswered should not be surprised when yesterday’s gunshot becomes tomorrow’s funeral procession. The Ikire and Osogbo incidents reflect the disturbing violence surrounding the governorship election. Reports of widespread violence, threats, and fatalities during the electoral period have cast a dark shadow over what should have been an exercise in democratic choice.
The fact that 30 souls were lost to pre-election violence cannot be swept under the carpet. Every death deserves an investigation. Every credible allegation of murder deserves prosecution. Every video in which threats were issued should be examined. Every individual suspected of sponsoring, facilitating, or participating in violence must face the law, irrespective of political affiliation, social standing, or proximity to power. ‘Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown,’ Shakespeare wrote. But in a constitutional democracy, the unease of political office must never become an excuse for the insecurity of the citizenry. Those who govern must understand that power is a trust, not a private estate. And those who contest for power must understand that political victory purchased with blood is a poisoned inheritance. The police therefore owe Osun State, and indeed Nigeria, a thorough and transparent account of what happened. Investigations should not stop at identifying those who pulled the trigger in all the reported cases of violence. The authorities must establish who financed, armed, encouraged, or directed the violent actors. Criminal gangs do not suddenly materialise when elections approach; they flourish where political interests, money, and impunity create fertile soil. The Nigerian political class should remember that where political power becomes an instrument for settling scores, intimidating opponents, or commandeering the machinery of the state, democracy becomes little more than an elaborate costume draped over naked coercion. This is why the Osun violence must not be treated as an isolated disturbance. It is part of a larger national pathology in which politics is too often conducted as warfare.
Silence, selective justice and official indifference are not neutral responses; they are invitations to further disorder. And Wole Soyinka’s enduring observation that ‘the man dies in all who keep silent in the face of tyranny’ acquires particular resonance here. Silence may appear convenient when violence is directed at an opponent, but impunity has no permanent political allegiance. The gun that is tolerated today because it serves one faction may tomorrow be turned against another. Notably, Osun people are not inherently violent. The state has a rich history, a proud cultural heritage, and a population capable of remarkable communal solidarity. What frequently inflames the atmosphere is the behaviour of politicians who turn legitimate political competition into a contest of personal hatred, coercion, and domination.
Democracy does not confer upon anyone the right to impose his or her will upon others. Political opponents are not enemies of the state, and disagreement is not a license for violence. Politics must not be a dirty game. No electoral slogan, party affiliation, or political grievance can sanctify murder. No politician should have the moral authority to demand peace from the people while tolerating violence among his followers. The government must therefore act with firmness, but also with fairness. Cultism must be confronted relentlessly. Criminal gangs must be dismantled. Those convicted of murder must face the full consequences prescribed by the law. Deterrence is indispensable, but deterrence without justice becomes vengeance.
There is also a lesson here for the political class. Abraham Lincoln’s simple proposition that ‘a house divided against itself cannot stand’ is as relevant to Osun as it is to any democracy. A state cannot flourish when its political actors continually manufacture enemies among their own people. Elections end, but communities remain. Politicians depart office, but the people remain to inherit the consequences of the passions that politicians have inflamed. Governor Adeleke’s administration now faces a defining test. The ball is firmly in its court. It must demonstrate that Osun belongs not to gunmen, cultists, or political thugs, but to law-abiding citizens. The police must investigate. Prosecutors must prosecute. Courts must adjudicate without fear or favor. The government must publish what it can legitimately disclose about the violence, and demonstrate that no influential individual will receive immunity from accountability.
The words of Martin Luther King Jr. should also haunt every custodian of public power: ‘The time is always right to do what is right.’ This is the time for Osun to choose justice over expediency, accountability over silence, and the rule of law over political convenience. The lesson must not be lost in the noise of politics. When criminality acquires the confidence to confront the symbols of state authority, every citizen’s security is diminished. Nigeria has suffered too long from the politics of impunity. Osun must now choose a different path.
The kind of violence that preceded the Osun election should never recur. The Nigerian people deserve peace. The dead deserve justice. The innocent deserve protection. And the political class must remember the wisdom of Edmund Burke: ‘Justice is itself the great standing policy of civil society.’