Feature/OPED
The Spiritual Side Of Aso Villa

By Reuben Abati
People tend to be alarmed when the Nigerian Presidency takes certain decisions. They don’t think the decision makes sense.
Sometimes, they wonder if something has not gone wrong with the thinking process at that highest level of the country.
I have heard people insist that there is some form of witchcraft at work in the country’s seat of government.
I am ordinarily not a superstitious person, but working in the Villa, I eventually became convinced that there must be something supernatural about power and closeness to it. I’ll start with a personal testimony.
I was given an apartment to live in inside the Villa. It was furnished and equipped. But when my son, Michael arrived, one of my brothers came with a pastor who was supposed to stay in the apartment. But the man refused claiming that the Villa was full of evil spirits and that there would soon be a fire accident in the apartment.
He complained about too much human sacrifice around the Villa and advised that my family must never sleep overnight inside the Villa.
I thought the man was talking nonsense and he wanted the luxury of a hotel accommodation. But he turned out to be right.
The day I hosted family friends in that apartment and they slept overnight, there was indeed a fire accident. The guests escaped and they were so thankful. Not long after, the President’s physician living two compounds away had a fire accident in his home. He and his children could have died. He escaped with bruises.
Around the Villa while I was there, someone always died or their relations died. I can confirm that every principal officer suffered one tragedy or the other; it was as if you needed to sacrifice something to remain on duty inside that environment.
Even some of the women became merchants of dildo because they had suffered a special kind of death in their homes (I am sorry to reveal this) and many of the men complained about something that had died below their waists too.
The ones who did not have such misfortune had one ailment or the other that they had to nurse. From cancer to brain and prostate surgery and whatever, the Villa was a hospital full of agonizing patients.
I recall the example of one particular man, an asset to the Jonathan Presidency who practically ran away from the Villa.
He said he needed to save his life. He was quite certain that if he continued to hang around, he would die. I can’t talk about colleagues who lost daughters and sons, brothers and uncles, mothers and fathers, and the many obituaries that we issued.
Even the President was multiply bereaved. His wife, Mama Peace was in and out of hospital at a point, undergoing many surgeries.
You may have forgotten but after her husband lost the election and he conceded victory, all her ailments vanished, all scheduled surgeries were found to be no longer necessary and since then she has been hale and hearty.
By the same token, all those our colleagues who used to come to work to complain about a certain death beneath their waists and who relied on videos and other instruments to entertain wives (take it easy boys, I don’t mean nay harm, I am writing!), have all experienced a re-awakening.
Everyone who went under the blade has received miraculous healing, and we are happy to be out of that place. But others were not so lucky. They died.
There were days when convoys ran into ditches and lives were lost.
In Norway, our helicopter almost crashed into a mountain. That was the first time I saw the President panicking. The weather was all so hazy and he just kept saying it would not be nice for the President of a country to die in a helicopter crash due to pilot miscalculations.
The President went into a prayer mode. We survived.
In Kenya once, we had a bird strike. The plane had to be recalled and we were already airborne with the plane acting like it would crash.
During the 2015 election campaigns, our aircraft refused to start on more than one occasion. The aircraft just went dead.
On some other occasions, we were stoned and directly targeted for evil. I really don’t envy the people who work in Aso Villa, the seat of Nigeria’s Presidency.
For about six months, I couldn’t even breathe properly. For another two months, I was on crutches. But I considered myself far luckier than the others who were either nursing a terminal disease or who could not get it up.
When Presidents make mistakes, they are probably victims of a force higher than what we can imagine.
Every student of Aso Villa politics would readily admit that when people get in there, they actually become something else.
They act like they are under a spell. When you issue a well- crafted statement, the public accepts it wrongly.
When the President makes a speech and he truly means well, the speech is interpreted wrongly by the public.
When a policy is introduced, somehow, something just goes wrong.
In our days, a lot of people used to complain that the APC people were fighting us spiritually and that there was a witchcraft dimension to the governance process in Nigeria.
But the APC folks now in power are dealing with the same demons.
Since Buhari government assumed office, it has been one mistake after another. Those mistakes don’t look normal, the same way they didn’t look normal under President Jonathan.
I am therefore convinced that there is an evil spell enveloping this country. We need to rescue Nigeria from the forces of darkness.
Aso Villa should be converted into a spiritual museum, and abandoned.
Should I become President of Nigeria tomorrow, I will build a new Presidential Villa: a Villa that will be dedicated to the all-conquering Almighty, and where powers and principalities cannot hold sway.
But it is not about buildings and space, not so? It is about the people who go to the highest levels in Nigeria.
I really don’t quite believe in superstitions, but I am tempted to suggest that this is indeed a country in need of prayers.
We should pray before people pack their things into Aso Villa. We should ask God to guide us before we appoint ministers. We should, to put it in technocratic language, advice that the people should be very vigilant.
We have all failed so far, that crucial test of vigilance. We should have a Presidential Villa where a President can afford to be human and free.
In the White House, in the United States, Presidents live like normal human beings. In Aso Villa, that is impossible. They’d have to surround themselves with cooks from their villages, bodyguards from their mother’s clans and friends they can trust.
It should be possible to be President of Nigeria without having to look behind one’s shoulders. But we are not yet there. So, how do we run a Presidency where the man in the saddle can only drink water served by his kinsman? No. How can we possibly run a Presidency where every President proclaims faith in Nigeria but they are better off in the company of relatives and kinsmen. No. We need as Presidents men and women who are willing to be Nigerians. No Nigerian President should be in spiritual bondage because he belongs to all of us and to nobody.
Now let me go back to the spiritual dimension. A colleague once told me that I was the most naïve person around the place. I thought I was a bright, smart, professional doing my bit and enjoying the President’s confidence. I spelled it out. But what I got in response was that I was coming to the villa using Lux soap, but that most people around the place always bathed in the morning with blood. Goat blood. Ram blood. Whatever animal blood. I argued. He said there were persons in the Villa walking upside down, head to the ground. I screamed. Everybody looked normal to me. But I soon began to suspect that I was in a strange environment indeed.
Every position change was an opportunity for warfare. Civil servants are very nice people; they obey orders, but they are not very nice when they fight over personal interests.
The President is most affected by the atmosphere around him. He can make wrong decisions based on the cloud of evil around him. Even when he means well and he has taken time to address all possible outcomes, he could get on the wrong side of the public.
A colleague called me one day and told me a story about how a decision had been taken in the spiritual realm about the Nigerian government.
He talked about the spirit of error, and how every step taken by the administration would appear to the public like an error. He didn’t resign on that basis but his words proved prophetic.
I see the same story being re-enacted. Aso Villa is in urgent need of redemption. I never slept in the apartment they gave me in that Villa for an hour.
Feature/OPED
Heritage Bank and Dangerous Politics of Corporate Survival in Nigeria
By Blaise Udunze
The Heritage Bank’s banking license was revoked, and it was ordered into liquidation on June 3, 2024. This remains one of the most controversial and widely debated events in Nigeria’s financial sector.
The lingering concerns, even though official reasons have been given as regulatory breaches, inadequate capitalisation, and persistent financial distress, many people remain unconvinced or believe there are broader issues that deserve closer scrutiny. Surprisingly, to concerned Nigerians, this marks the first time a Nigerian bank has been allowed to fail in over a decade. Despite the passage of time, one question refuses to disappear. Mind you, this is not a rhetorical question: Does the failure of a bank in Nigeria reflect only the institution’s weaknesses or should it also raise questions about the effectiveness of regulatory oversight and the influence of broader systemic or political factors?
Again, the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) actually may have explained that its decision to revoke Heritage Bank’s licence was based on the institution’s persistent financial weakness, its inability to meet prudential requirements and the absence of a credible path to recovery. Yes, and undisputedly, those reasons fall squarely within the regulator’s statutory mandate to protect depositors and safeguard financial system stability.
Understandably, the legal basis for the action was clearly stated; even at that, the truth is that the decision has continued to provoke debate because of the broader question of regulatory consistency. If prudential weakness alone determines whether a bank survives, why have seemingly comparable institutions been treated differently?
This question deserves examination not through conspiracy theories or unsubstantiated allegations but through the lens of institutional accountability, governance and the relationship between politics and business in Nigeria.
The Heritage Bank story presents a contradiction. No doubt, one would not be wrong to say that the Nigerian banking industry is one of the most tightly regulated sectors of the economy. This is because the banks operated and still function under continuous supervision by the CBN. Also, the Nigeria Deposit Insurance Corporation (NDIC) is well known to exist primarily to protect depositors and ensure financial system stability. Routine examinations, prudential guidelines, capital adequacy monitoring, liquidity ratios, stress tests and early intervention mechanisms are designed precisely to prevent sudden institutional collapse.
One critical question that comes to mind is, if these safeguards function effectively, why should a licensed commercial bank deteriorate to the point of liquidation? That question extends beyond Heritage Bank. It touches the credibility of Nigeria’s financial architecture itself.
The truth be told, no regulator anywhere in the world can guarantee that every bank will survive. This is because over time, history has shown that banks can fail due to poor corporate governance, insider abuses, weak risk management, fraud, macroeconomic shocks or prolonged insolvency. Nigeria is no exception.
However, regulators are expected to detect distress early, enforce corrective actions and minimise losses to depositors and the economy. That is the essence of prudential regulation.
Consequently, whenever a licensed bank ultimately collapses, scrutiny naturally shifts beyond management failures to regulatory effectiveness. Did supervisors identify warning signs early enough? Were intervention tools deployed in time? Were recovery options exhausted before liquidation became inevitable? Could alternative resolutions have preserved confidence while protecting depositors?
The Heritage Bank case naturally fuels these questions because Nigeria’s regulatory history demonstrates that liquidation is not the only available resolution mechanism. Different institutions have, at different times, received different supervisory responses.
Throughout former CBN governor Godwin Emefiele’s leadership, several banks, including Skye Bank (later Polaris Bank), Keystone Bank, Union Bank, and Heritage Bank, faced severe financial challenges but were bailed out by the central bank instead of being allowed to fail. These banks continued operations until they were eventually sold off, with one currently distressed bank still operating despite negative shareholders’ funds.
For instance, Unity Bank was not widely regarded as financially stronger than Heritage Bank on several traditional indicators. Its 2023 audited financial statements reflected a negative capital adequacy ratio of -76.14 per cent, accumulated losses, and the external auditors drew attention to a material uncertainty regarding the bank’s ability to continue as a going concern. Despite these severe weaknesses, the regulatory response was not an immediate licence revocation. Instead, the CBN facilitated a merger with Providus Bank as a resolution strategy and approved a pivotal financial bailout package, reportedly worth N700 billion.
Likewise, First Bank of Nigeria is not left out of this trend; owing to its systemic importance and larger market presence, the institution later faced regulatory capital pressure following the withdrawal of regulatory forbearance in 2025. Another concern is that rather than withdrawing its licence, the regulator permitted the bank to remain operational under a recapitalisation programme supported through supervisory measures.
These examples do not necessarily suggest that the banks were identical in their financial positions, nor do they prove that Heritage Bank deserved the same outcome. Each institution presents unique circumstances, regulatory assessments and systemic implications. Nevertheless, on common ground, they raise a legitimate policy question. What specific factors determine when the regulator opts for recapitalisation, merger, restructuring or liquidation? One fact the regulators should know and take into cognisance is that greater transparency around these decisions would strengthen public confidence in the consistency and predictability of financial regulation, as this remains sacrosanct.
Of course, the case of Heritage Bank’s liquidation has generated a broader conversation because of Nigeria’s history, where business fortunes have sometimes intersected with political transitions, elite rivalries and shifting centres of influence, which is more troubling.
The common truth is that across decades of experience, Nigerian businesses have occasionally found themselves flourishing under one political environment only to struggle under another. Consistently, this has always been a trend that changes in government have often altered regulatory priorities, access to public sector business and investor confidence. While correlation does not establish causation, the perception that politics influences commercial outcomes remains deeply entrenched. This perception becomes even more significant when examining businesses that occupy strategic sectors.
Banks are strategic institutions. Telecommunications companies are strategic institutions. Energy companies are strategic institutions.
Government actions affecting such businesses inevitably attract public scrutiny because their operations extend far beyond shareholders to millions of citizens.
One may be moved to ask what the direct connection is. The controversy surrounding MultiChoice Nigeria offers another example of how commercial disputes can quickly assume political dimensions in public discourse. The direct connection may remain a puzzle to so many.
A thorough search revealed that over recent years, especially around the time the Heritage Bank licence was revoked, it was clear that MultiChoice faced regulatory sanctions, tax disputes, consumer protection battles, pricing controversies and legal confrontations with Nigerian authorities. Come to think of it, at different points, observers speculated that sustained pressure on the company reflected broader political or economic interests rather than purely regulatory concerns.
It is important to distinguish speculation from verified fact. Nigerian authorities consistently maintained that their actions against MultiChoice were based on compliance with tax, competition and consumer protection laws. MultiChoice similarly defended its commercial decisions through legal channels.
Well, at this point, Adewunmi Ogunsanya, a Senior Advocate of Nigeria (SAN), has direct ties to both organisations through his executive leadership and corporate board appointments. Is it a mere coincidence that his connection to both entities became a major financial focal point following the liquidation of Heritage Bank?
Let it be known that, despite all, the public conversation often framed the disputes as evidence of an underlying power struggle between government institutions and a dominant private enterprise, and this may remain undisputed.
Whether accurate or not, such perceptions matter because markets respond not only to facts but also to confidence. Confidence is the currency upon which banking survives.
Unlike manufacturing companies that own factories or oil firms with physical reserves, banks fundamentally operate on trust. Depositors leave their money because they believe regulators will ensure the institution remains safe.
One indisputable fact is that the moment confidence evaporates, even a fundamentally solvent bank can face severe liquidity pressure, which has occurred in the past.
This is why central banks across the world routinely rescue distressed institutions, not necessarily because every management deserves saving, but because preserving confidence is often more valuable than punishing failure.
Nigeria demonstrated this principle during the 2009 banking crisis through recapitalisation, management changes, the establishment of AMCON and structured resolution mechanisms rather than the outright closure of several distressed institutions. That experience confirmed that regulators possess a range of tools beyond licence revocation.
The Heritage Bank case therefore naturally invites debate over why liquidation emerged as the chosen option.
Could recapitalisation have remained feasible? Could acquisition have produced better outcomes? Could bridge-bank arrangements have preserved value? Could additional restructuring have protected jobs and investor confidence?
These are questions policymakers should openly address, not simply to revisit the past but to strengthen future crisis management. The implications extend beyond one institution.
Foreign investors closely observe how governments and regulators manage corporate distress. Let it be known that predictability is one of the strongest attractions for investment. When investors perceive that outcomes depend primarily on transparent rules, confidence grows.
When they perceive uncertainty, whether arising from inconsistent regulation, political transitions or muddy decision-making, they demand higher risk premiums or redirect capital elsewhere.
Nigeria cannot afford either perception. The country’s ambition to become Africa’s leading investment destination and to build a $1 trillion economy requires regulatory consistency that transcends political cycles.
Businesses must believe that success or failure depends principally on compliance, competitiveness and sound governance, not changing political winds.
This is equally important for regulators themselves. Institutions such as the CBN and NDIC derive legitimacy from public confidence. This is to say that absolute confidence increases when regulatory decisions are accompanied by clear, detailed and transparent explanations that address public concerns effectively, which would not give room for doubt.
Where communication gaps exist, the simple truth is that speculation inevitably fills the vacuum. And worse still, in today’s digital environment, silence often becomes fertile ground for misinformation. Transparency therefore serves not merely public relations purposes but financial stability itself.
The Heritage Bank episode also exposes another challenge confronting Nigeria’s economy, as this can be tied to the growing fusion of politics and perception.
Even where regulatory decisions are technically justified, public trust weakens if citizens increasingly interpret every major corporate action through political lenses. That should concern policymakers.
An economy where investors suspect political motivations behind regulatory outcomes ultimately discourages entrepreneurship, weakens market confidence and slows economic growth.
The solution is not to avoid difficult regulatory decisions. Poorly managed institutions should still face appropriate sanctions. More importantly, financial discipline remains indispensable.
It must be ensured that whilst this is done, enforcement consistently demonstrates fairness, proportionality and procedural transparency. Equally, corporate leaders must recognise that sustainable institutions cannot depend on political proximity.
History repeatedly shows that businesses built primarily on access rather than competitiveness become vulnerable whenever political landscapes change. Strong institutions survive governments because they are anchored in sound governance rather than political patronage.
Perhaps the greatest lesson from Heritage Bank is not merely whether politics influenced events, something that remains unproven in the public domain, but whether Nigeria’s institutional framework has become sufficiently trusted that such questions no longer dominate public discourse.
That is the real challenge. A mature regulatory environment should inspire confidence that decisions arise from objective evidence rather than perceived political calculations.
Until that confidence is universally shared, every major corporate failure will continue generating political interpretations regardless of the underlying facts.
Nigeria’s economic future depends not only on stronger banks but also on stronger institutions. The CBN, NDIC and every financial regulator carry responsibilities extending beyond enforcing compliance. They must also preserve public confidence through transparency, consistency and accountability.
Heritage Bank should therefore become more than another chapter in Nigeria’s banking history. It should become an opportunity for honest national reflection.
Not on how to rescue failing banks indefinitely, but on how to build regulatory systems so credible, so predictable, and so independent that no bank failure, however justified, will immediately trigger suspicions of hidden political battles.
For investors, depositors and ordinary Nigerians alike, that confidence may ultimately prove more valuable than any financial bailout.
Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos and can be reached via: bl***********@***il.com
Feature/OPED
Reimagining Kaduna Through the Promise of Education
By Sani Abdulrazak, PhD
The late Sir Ahmadu Bello, the Sardauna of Sokoto and Premier of Northern Nigeria, envisioned that the true measure of a society’s progress lay not just in the roads it built, the markets it opened or the wealth it accumulated, but in the education of its people.
A philosophy it was, born from the conviction that the most enduring obelisk any generation can leave behind is not one hewn in stones, but one etched into the minds of its children. Decades later, that timeless belief still resonates across Northern Nigeria, a reminder that every investment in education is, unquestionably, an investment in today and tomorrow.
Truth is, failure to educate a child is synonymous with condemning the next generation; it is amplifying an already debilitating multidimensional poverty, it is fuelling the flames of insecurity. Governor Uba Sani of Kaduna state shares this belief, and three years later under his watch, the state’s education sector tells a promising story that gives every resident of the state reason to hope…to believe.
A school is indeed more than bricks and mortar; it is a place where the future is quietly assembled. Sadly, countless classrooms across Kaduna reflected neglect rather than hope. Governor Uba Sani’s administration chose to change that narrative. Within three years, 736 new classrooms have been constructed and 2,326 renovated, while 30,742 pupils’ desks and 3,704 teachers’ tables and chairs have been supplied.
The government also completed 62 new secondary schools, with another 50 under construction. Through the School Access Project, between 102 and 104 additional schools are being established so that no child travels more than one kilometre to access education. Furthermore, six science secondary schools that had remained abandoned for over a decade have been completed and reopened by the present administration. Today, they provide quality science education to over 2,000 students.
Rising tuition fees by the previous administration had placed higher education beyond the reach of many families in Kaduna and beyond. The administration responded with a 50 per cent reduction in tuition fees across Kaduna State-owned tertiary institutions, including Kaduna State University and Nuhu Bamalli Polytechnic, reportedly increasing enrolment by over 200%. Kaduna State Government also paid approximately ₦407.94 million, equivalent to 247,235.84 United States dollars, to settle outstanding tuition for Kaduna-sponsored students studying abroad, while investing over ₦1 billion in scholarships, student loans and educational support programmes.
It is indeed true that education is only as strong as its custodians, the teachers. Recognising this, the administration recruited 10,000 teachers and trained more than 33,000 education personnel in modern teaching methods and digital learning. These investments are already yielding results, with students obtaining five credits and above in WAEC, NECO and NABTEB examinations increasing from 54 per cent to 67 per cent.
Nothing illustrates the measure of progress of this administration’s investment in education better than the decline in out-of-school children. Through expanded school access, improved infrastructure, tuition support and enhanced security, the number reportedly fell from about 580,000 to approximately 182,000, giving hundreds of thousands of children another chance at education.
Believing that education must ready young people for employment and enterprise, Kaduna State Government established three Institutes of Vocational Training and Skills Development in Soba, Rigachikun and Samaru Kataf, offering practical skills in ICT, renewable energy, mechatronics, welding, plumbing, fashion design, carpentry and automotive technology. The administration has also advanced inclusion through the nearly completed Special School for Gifted Children and the expansion of the Tsangaya Bilingual Schools Project with specialised teacher training.
Binding these educational reforms together is sustained investment. Between 2024 and 2026, Kaduna consistently allocated between 25 and 26.14 per cent of its annual budget to education, making it the state’s highest-funded sector. More than a budgetary decision, it is a declaration that Kaduna’s future will be built not only with roads and buildings, but with educated minds.
There is an African proverb that says, “The child who is carried on the back today may carry the nation on his shoulders tomorrow.” Make of that what you will, but only education will give the child the shoulders to do so. Generational chapters and eras are defined by battles won or lost, sometimes by monuments raised or conceived.
However, the most discerning write their legacy upon the minds via education, for no monument endures longer than an educated generation. Who’d better write us this chapter than the proverbial Lannister of our time, Governor Uba Sani? A leader elected because the people of Kaduna State knew he would be a reformist, and now he is shifting the tectonic plates of education…of governance in the state.
Even though a lot of work remains unfinished, the road ahead is anything but smooth. What is beyond doubt is the direction the state is heading towards. Should these reforms endure under the SUSTAIN Agenda, Kaduna may one day look back on Uba Sani’s first three years not merely as an era of educational reforms, but as the moment when the state chose to invest in the one sphere that time cannot diminish: the education of its people.
Feature/OPED
How Governor Uba Sani’s Sustain Agenda is Rewriting Kaduna’s Agricultural Metamorphosis
By Sani Abdulrazak, PhD
Governance ascends into telos when the hands that feed the nation work with sustained hope rather than uncertainty. The farmer is indeed relieved when he no longer gauges the farming season through the prism of survival or rising cost of fertiliser, but by the promise of a better harvest and a pathway to prosperity. Truth is, rural communities are only fundamentally satisfied when their fertile lands marry deliberate government intervention. This government intervention in agriculture is not in mere promises, speeches, or ceremonies, but in flourishing fields, fuller warehouses and improved livelihoods. At the very core of Governor Uba Sani’s SUSTAIN agenda is strengthening the bedrock upon which food security and economic prosperity are built: agriculture. His approach has been less of bombast and more of stewardship, allowing the sector to emerge from years of uncertainty into one of resurgence.
The agricultural sector of Kaduna State over the past three years reveals a government that has chosen investment over rhetoric. Pinpointing agriculture as the oxygen of the state’s economy, the administration has committed unprecedented resources to this very pertinent sector. The agricultural budget rose from barely ₦1.48 billion in 2023 to ₦74.2 billion in 2025, before exceeding ₦100 billion in the 2026 budget, making Kaduna one of the few states committing over 10 per cent of its annual expenditure to agriculture. These allocations represent an explicit declaration that meaningful agricultural transformation begins with deliberate investment. They equally reflect the prudence and resolve to position Kaduna not merely as a producer of crops but as an agricultural colossus. What once appeared a distant aspiration is gradually taking the shape of a tangible renaissance, built not on ephemeral promises but on carefully hewn policies and enduring commitments.
The most conspicuous manifestation of this administration’s intervention has been its direct support for farmers. Admittedly, farming has become increasingly expensive across the country lately, yet Kaduna state responded with one of the largest agricultural support programmes by distributing 15,000 metric tonnes of fertiliser, equivalent to about 500 truckloads, free of charge to over 120,000 farmers across the 23 local government areas. Through the “Tallafin Noma programme”, an additional 69,000 smallholder farmers received improved maize seeds and agrochemicals to increase productivity. These interventions have reduced production costs for thousands of farming households while strengthening food production at a time when food security remains a national concern. Such interventions are not mere statistics; they are a bulwark against rural poverty, a catalyst for productivity and a harbinger of renewed confidence. For many farmers, government support has become the linchpin upon which an abundant harvest now rests.
Governor Uba Sani understands that the true promise of modern agriculture lies not only in cultivation but also in the value created after the harvest. The commencement of the Kaduna Special Agro-Industrial Processing Zone marks an important shift from exporting raw produce to processing agricultural commodities within the state. Complementing this is the construction of Northern Nigeria’s first Agricultural Quality Assurance Centre, designed to certify agricultural produce for local and international markets. Together, these initiatives promise to reduce post-harvest losses, attract private investment, create employment opportunities and improve the competitiveness of Kaduna’s agricultural products beyond Nigeria’s borders. They equally represent a conscious effort to build an agricultural ecosystem, a lasting edifice of productivity whose impact will reverberate far beyond the present generation. The vision is transformative as it is audacious, replacing dependence with self-sufficiency and creating a confluence where farming, industry and commerce intersect.
Mechanisation and rural agricultural support have also received renewed focus. The procurement of tractors and farm implements, the provision of irrigation pumps, power tillers, fertilisers, and crop protection chemicals to farmer cooperatives, alongside continued investment in rural and farm-to-market roads, shows an understanding that productivity improves when farmers are supported with the right tools and infrastructure. Easier access to markets not only reduces transportation costs but also minimises post-harvest losses, ensuring that farmers reap greater value from their labour. These investments have become the fulcrum upon which rural prosperity increasingly turns, replacing archaic practices with innovative solutions and galvanising communities to embrace modern agriculture. They stand as an obelisk of thoughtful governance, a testament to the belief that development flourishes where opportunity is deliberately cultivated.
Superlatives are in short supply when describing Governor Uba Sani’s three years in office, and even more so when one attempts to capture the magnitude of his agricultural revolution. Among the promises he made was to revive agriculture as the engine of Kaduna’s economy, and, as always, he has kept his promise. We’ve always known he would; the challenges, though, are far from over, but every meaningful reform must navigate its own labyrinth of challenges. Yet the administration’s trajectory remains steadfast, its achievements too palpable to dismiss even to the staunch critics. It would be germane to etch in our minds that history, that impartial arbiter of leadership, may ultimately remember this administration as one that rekindled the state’s agricultural zenith and restored dignity to farming for generations to come.
Sani Abdulrazak, PhD, is a writer, researcher and public affairs analyst based in Zaria, Kaduna State


