Fubara Mistrusts Abuja

Trust is a currency for favour; it is a wheel of patronage—an honour and a burden to receive. But once broken, it burns its subjects like fire. In politics, the furnace of distrust consumes the weakling or the weaker party.

Siminalayi Fubara, like those currently distrusted by their godfathers, did not get the All Progressives Congress (APC) governorship ticket to contest the upcoming gubernatorial election for his second term in Rivers State in the just-concluded party primaries in Abuja. From the optics, he was schemed out in the screening exercise—partly by the plot of Nyesom Wike (his godfather), the FCT Minister, and the APC national secretariat, and wholly by his own personal faults. Sadly, before he defected months ago, here was a governor touted by fifth columnists as more popular in Rivers State politics than his godfather. How that story suddenly changed may have more to do with his godfather hijacking the party apparatchiks in the state than with his own ability to manage it.

Yet, Wike’s legendary feat now lies in fielding candidates from both the APC and the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) for elective office in the state—perhaps an unprecedented accomplishment, unknown in our history, at least not openly like this. Anyway, their story now looks like a case where once there is mistrust, trust goes wrong, and distrust becomes inevitable.

There were insinuations that Fubara had initially confided in President Bola Tinubu and some members of the party secretariat, shortly after returning from the state of emergency, that he was only interested in the current term. He hasn’t confirmed this, but his sudden change of interest hints at some truths about our politics.

In Nigeria, political godfathers often raise their stooges to power on the currency of friendship or goodwill, without a record of tested loyalty, only to orchestrate their downfall at the slightest slip. This is instructive in Wike and Siminalayi’s relationship. Their story reminds one of Akinwunmi Ambode, the former governor of Lagos State, and his estranged godfather(s) during the 2018 APC primary elections in Lagos; it was a palpable charade remarkably similar to the current happenings in the just-concluded primaries. Incidentally, both Siminalayi and Ambode were former accountants recruited by their godfathers from the civil services of their respective states. There must be something spectacular about accountants that makes them favorites.

Anyway, Robert Greene, in his timeless book titled The 48 Laws of Power, wrote: “When asking for help, appeal to people’s self-interest, never to their mercy or gratitude.” After President Bola Tinubu’s last intervention between Fubara and Wike, it was a gross risk and a miscalculation for the governor to expect protection. Moving into the APC with his alleged intentions disclosed, without securing a firm guarantee of endorsement, was an avoidable risk (if such an agreement truly existed between them).

However, violating Law 3 of that book was Fubara’s Achilles’ heel. Greene says that in politics, “always conceal your intentions.” One must guide enemies down the wrong path so that when they finally realize one’s intentions, it will be too late. This is what Abuja has now taught Fubara.

It would have been more advisable for him to work with the APC on the surface while quietly building an independent alliance or alternative political paths. In this, Wike and the APC national secretariat beat him to the punch, keeping up a “smokescreen” relationship while executing a parallel strategy. This plot was seamlessly executed while he trusted his newfound benefactors in Abuja.

It was Niccolò Machiavelli who wrote, “Love is held by a chain of obligation which, because men are wicked, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage.” Fubara’s trust in Abuja was a misnomer—a gentlemanly agreement with Wike in the room was impossible. I suspect Wike’s “success” at the last local government polls in the FCT further reinforced the confidence reposed in him by the APC secretariat, because the music suddenly changed after that.

Expectedly, Fubara’s betrayal became inevitable when his association no longer served his newfound godfathers.

To trust a person is to rely upon them to fulfill a commitment, but distrust involves an expectation of unfulfilled commitment, according to Katherine Hawley of the University of St Andrews. Lesson: it is wiser to rely on Nigerian politicians than to trust them. I can rely on my computer to enable me to write this piece, but it owes me no apology if it suddenly stops working. Hence, I have no trust in it.

In all of this, Fubara is paid back in kind for the distrust meted out to his godfather. This reminds me of Oyo politics.

Rasheed Ladoja became the governor of Oyo State, coasting on the political trust of the late Lamidi Adedibu, the then-godfather of Oyo politics, in 2003. Soon after, they distrusted each other when the governor refused to share state allocations with Adedibu. An impeachment orchestrated by the latter followed. Though Ladoja was restored by the court to complete his term after almost 11 months of protracted litigation, he still lost his second-term ambition in 2007. He never had another opportunity. Once distrusted, godfathers rarely forgive in our politics. By constitutional grace and limitations, godsons may only be allowed to finish their subsisting term.

Fubara was also unlucky, unlike Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf of Kano State, who secured his second-term ticket. Yusuf found new “godfathers” or alliances in Abdullahi Ganduje and the federal support of President Tinubu against his former godfather, Senator Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso. His alliance with Abuja was mutually beneficial for all—a typical example of Nigerian transactional politics. One of our aphorisms says, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” No wonder Yusuf’s screening went seamlessly. Sadly for Fubara, his enemy is a friend to his newfound friends. Under closer scrutiny, both Yusuf and Fubara share similar personalities, temperaments, and even political backgrounds; hence, the “weaknesses” adduced against Fubara by his traducers are less significant in the big picture of this failure.

To contrast this, with only a fraction of the state assembly and cabinet members on his side, and a highly volatile, crisis-charged environment at the moment, Fubara is faced with structural limitations. This is a cognitive bias his critics have failed to acknowledge—a contextual misplacement that attributes his failures to his personal traits.

It takes a powerful godson, sometimes backed by federal might, to win against a godfather in Nigerian politics. Again, this was seen in Kano State, where former governor Abdullahi Ganduje and Rabiu Kwankwaso, his estranged godfather, fiercely contested for the soul of the state throughout Ganduje’s two terms. Many godsons are not that lucky. Currently, Nollywood actor turned Lagos State House of Assembly member representing Surulere Constituency I, Desmond Elliot, lost the All Progressives Congress ticket in the primary election. He has since shown his frustration and disappointment in grand Nollywood style in the media. Listen to him and his former allies, and the echoes of his offense—trust and distrust—audibly ring.

Trust enthrones in Nigerian politics, and distrust dethrones, but mistrust (a misplaced trust) is the greatest peril. Trust brought Fubara in; distrust is likely taking him out. However, his own mistrust of the APC might just be his downfall. Ladies and gentlemen, it is yet another season and cycle of mistrust, trust, and distrust in our politics. These are the lessons of the current APC primaries.

Ariwoola Samuel Akinwale wrote this piece from Lagos

He can be contacted via [email protected]

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