By Farooq Kperogi

In Nigeria, elite oppression and callousness are often mostly abstract. Most people at the lower end of the social scale think and feel that many people in positions of power, comfortably ensconced in their sinecures, are haughty, self-impressed, and possessed of ice-cold disdain for them. But it is FCT Minister Nyesom Wike, more than anyone in the current government, who brings this abstract ideation into a raw, visceral, in-your-face embodiment through his habitual conduct.

He has become a proverb for boorishness, unendurable arrogance, condescension, tactlessness, and verbal primitivism. He excites visceral emotions in most Nigerians irrespective of their regional, religious, ethnic, or political affiliations. Wike doesn’t do his own oppression of the people in peace or style. He does it with vile and vicious villainy.

That was precisely why his humiliation by Navy Lt. A. M. Yerima provided unrestrained, much needed, exhilarating national catharsis for vast swaths of Nigerians. In Yerima, many Nigerians saw a brave, principled young man who pushed back on Wike’s intolerably familiar and habitual superciliousness and unrelieved toxicity.

Nigerians experienced a collective sensation of emotionally purging excitement through the vicariousness of watching video clips of his encounter with Yerima, which has spawned such creative social media jokes as, “Wike was chasing me in my dream, but when I yelled ‘Yerima!’ he disappeared!”

Millions of perpetually oppressed Nigerians, particularly, derived secondhand joy from seeing Wike, in a moment of unaccustomed powerlessness, flip out his phone to call the Chief of Defence Staff (CDS) and then hand it over to Yerima in an impotent bid to be allowed access to the disputed property Yerima was guarding.

As soon as Yerima was handed the phone, he instinctively took his hand out of his pocket as a sign of respect for his boss, calmly explained why he wouldn’t allow Wike and his ill-bred goons into the property, then handed the phone back to Wike without yielding to Wike’s demands.

In a fit of bacchanalian rage, Wike called the young man “a big fool.” His earnest, insistent, impassioned, lightning-fast riposte of “I am not a fool, sir,” obliquely told Wike that he was the big fool. Only a fool would, as a minister, publicly call a military officer in uniform young enough to be his son a fool in the full glare of cameras.

Wise people impose restraint on themselves, tutor their instincts, and school their emotions. That someone could publicly tell Wike to his face, even if implicitly, that he is the fool that Nigerians say in hushed whispers, was infinitely satisfying for millions of the direct and indirect victims of Wike’s agonizing imperiousness.

It was even more consoling to many Nigerians that although Wike yelled at Yerima to “get out!” it was actually Wike who got out in disgrace — diminished, subdued, chastened, and with his tail between his legs. That was a once-in-a-blue-moon, David-versus-Goliath defeat of a detestable pocket tyrant.

Now, had this been a different minister, the conversation would have taken a radically different tenor. Many legal commentators have persuasively pointed out that Wike has the right to allocate, reallocate, seize, and restore land within the Federal Capital Territory.

Of course, many things are legal or not explicitly illegal but are widely regarded as inappropriate, unethical, or socially unacceptable. For example, no law prohibits wearing a clown suit in public or at a funeral. But it violates social norms of respect, dignity, and decorum.

To be clear, I honestly don’t care if Vice Admiral Awwal Zubairu Gambo, whose property Yerima is tasked with guarding, loses it. Wike is probably right that Gambo was scammed and has no legal right to the land. I also think it’s an indefensible prostitution of the young man’s obviously enormous talents to reduce him to standing sentry by the disputed parcel of land of a retired general.

In addition, I take issue with Yerima’s denigration of the professional worth of a police officer who accompanied Wike to the disputed plot and heckled Yerima in support of Wike. While I understand that in moments of inflamed passions, tempers can rise to stratospheric heights and cause internal emotional guardrails to break, targeting the rank and professional identity of the police officer for aspersion diminished Yerima.

My two immediate younger siblings are police officers, but that’s not the reason for my disappointment in Yerima’s dissing of the profession of the police officer. It’s mostly because it made Yerima guilty of the same kind of hauteur and false pride that has caused Wike to be alienated from most Nigerians.

Whatever we may think of police officers, their services to the nation are as indispensable to national survival as those of military officers. The current NSA, who is the boss of Yerima’s military bosses, was a police officer.

That said, the fact that even people at the core of the current power structure have not come out to defend Wike tells you that most of them are embarrassed by his trademark coarseness and that he is a burden that is tolerated only for strategic political calculations. The persistent inelegance he lets out by virtue of his being a helplessly uncouth boor has caused his colleagues in the circles of power to let him hang out to dry.

The few who have spoken have condemned his conduct and decision-making. For example, Bello Matawalle, Minister of State for Defence, said Wike’s clash with the naval officer was “unnecessary” and “avoidable” and that Wike “should not have exchanged words with the officer” on site.

Instead, he argued, Wike ought to have taken up his concerns through the officer’s superiors and formal channels, saying that there was “no basis to sanction” Lt. Yerima. He framed the officer as having acted professionally and under lawful orders, again implicitly positioning Wike as the one at fault.

At a ministerial briefing for the 2026 Armed Forces Remembrance Day, Minister of Defence Mohammed Badaru also said that the ministry and the armed forces “will always protect our officers on lawful duty” and that “we will not allow anything to happen to him so far as he is doing his job, and he is doing his job greatly well,” referring specifically to Lt. Yerima.

Hours after the Wike–Yerima confrontation, the Defence Headquarters (DHQ) lent veiled institutional support for Yerima. It posted a graphic on its verified X account that reads: “IT IS AN HONOUR TO SERVE IN THE NIGERIAN MILITARY. UNSHAKEN. UNBENT. UNBROKEN.”

The Nigerian news media, including Premium Times, explicitly tied the timing of this DHQ post to the Wike incident and noted that many Nigerians saw it as a covert response defending Yerima.

Former CDS Gen. Lucky Irabor (retd.), like the defense ministers, spoke in a way that supports Lt. A.M. Yerima and rebukes Wike over the clash. The Punch of November 13 reported him as framing Yerima’s uniform as “representing the authority of the state” and pointing out that when you disparage or humiliate someone in uniform, “you are insulting the state itself.”

Irabor said many public reactions to the Wike–Yerima saga were “largely misguided” because people were focusing on personalities instead of the symbolic and legal authority that the military uniform carries.

That capped a really weak, wild, whiny, wicked week for Wike. It came as no shock, therefore, when he addressed a news conference where he tried to sound conciliatory and walk back his totally unprovoked and unwarranted insults at Yerima.

A video clip of his news conference where he denied calling Yerima a fool started trending on Friday. “I did not call the naval officer a fool,” he said. “What I said was that you can’t be carrying out an illegal order. That’s what I meant … I didn’t say military fool. I couldn’t have said that!”

Of course, he didn’t just call Yerima a “fool,” he called him a “big fool” for emphasis, and even repeatedly commanded him to “shut up” with imperious airs. Maybe Wike didn’t remember he said this because he was in a daze when he did.

Or perhaps it is his arrogant way of apologizing. In all this, though, I hope Wike has learned a lesson. In a matter where Nigerians would have ordinarily condemned Yerima for insubordination to superior civilian authority, they were exultant in vicarious satisfaction over his public humiliation.

If the spectacle of a lone junior officer forcing a blustering minister to taste his own medicine nudges Wike and his ilk toward even the faintest flicker of humility, then this confrontation will have served a moral purpose. In a country long brutalized by small men with big egos, even symbolic victories matter.

The views expressed by contributors are strictly personal and not of Law & Society Magazine.

By Citizen Richard Odusanya

Let me begin by clarifying: I am not anti-capitalist. In its classical sense, capitalism is one
of humanity’s most remarkable inventions. Long before modern markets, people were
exchanging shells and goods as early as 8,000 BCE. This simple act of trade became the
seed of civilization’s growth. Properly harnessed, capitalism has lifted billions out of
poverty, rewarded creativity, and driven the greatest technological progress in human
history. In its purest form, it is a system of productive freedom—a beautiful engine for
human advancement.

However, what we are running today is no longer that noble system. It has mutated into
a deadly, devilish form of capitalism—one that devours rather than develops. This version
prioritizes greed over growth, speculation over service, and profit over people. It
commodifies everything, even human dignity. It thrives on inequality, exploitation, and
environmental depletion, creating a society where the rich weaponize opportunity while
the poor inherit despair.

The late John Nash, the Princeton mathematician and Nobel laureate, offered an
important insight that exposes this flaw. His theory—depicted in the film A Beautiful
Mind—proved that if each person pursues only their self-interest without regard for the
collective good, society ultimately regresses. Sustainable prosperity requires mutual
benefit, not ruthless competition.

Sadly, across sectors—from politics to banking, education to governance—we have
enthroned a warped form of capitalism that rewards corner-cutting and punishes
conscience. At this juncture, we appeal to all leaders at all levels in these, and every other
sector of endeavour, to think of society against self as a precondition for the growth and
development of our dear motherland Nigeria. Ours is not a free market; it is a captured
market, where connections trump competence and short-term profit eclipses long-term
vision.

Regardless of who is in government, we must understand that Nigeria is not like
the societies we reference in our conversations, and Nigerians are not Europeans,
Americans or Asians, we are unique in our ways and our approach to economics and its
realities must reflect our character. Our laws must be modified beyond what obtains in
the East or West to change our mindset, reconfigure our brand of capitalism and release
our arrested progress.

We thus assert that the call for reform, must go beyond economic models to moral
renewal. We must humanize capitalism again—tie enterprise to empathy, profit to
purpose, and success to service. Until we do, what we are running is not an economy but
a machine of moral erosion, driven by brilliance but blinded by greed.

Odusanya is a Public Affairs Enthusiast and Good Governance Advocate
[email protected]

The views expressed by contributors are strictly personal and not of Law & Society Magazine.

By IfeanyiChukwu Afuba 

By the psychology of deflection, it’s not surprising that there are interests trying to shift blame in Nigeria’s religious crisis. The Christian Association of Nigeria leadership (CAN), Texas Senator, Ted Cruz alongside his congressional allies and US President, Donald Trump are accused of seeking to escalate Nigeria’s religious problem. No doubt, the CAN and sections of American political leadership are of the strong view that Christians have suffered persecution in the midst of Nigeria’s insecurity.

For this reason, President Trump indicated readiness to take action against the militants unleashing violence across Nigeria. Official government reaction was two – fold; a cautious welcome of partnership with the US against terrorism and rejection of existence of religious genocide. But those generalising the violence as random and at the same time railing against external intervention, ought to know better. It bears stressing that religious persecution has violent and non – violent expressions. It is not time barred. When the remote and immediate factors of the current tension are recognised, the narrative unravels as crisis of ideology imposition.

President Bola Tinubu’s government may not be held responsible for the perceived run of Christian genocide in the country. To be fair, the current administration is only accountable for not ameliorating the situation in the past two and half years. The quest for religious dominance has a long historical journey which reached turning points under Mohammadu Buhari’s clannish presidency. In the pre independence, pro – confederal order, Sharia law was practised in the northern region without rancour. The significant jurisdiction of the regions enabled “independent” administration and development. This model largely thrived until the military coup of January 1966.

It was on account of the strong power of the regions that the Aguiyi – Ironsi regime enacted the unification decree 34 of 1966 in a misguided effort at national unity. This honest, but naive move was particularly resisted by the north which feared ascendancy of the east in the new permutation. Although the unification decree was repealed following a counter coup, centralised military rule still held sway in the successive years. Trouble began with the attempt to import the Sharia of the regions – era into national constitutional framework in 1978.

Expectedly, constituent assembly members from other parts of the country opposed the gratuitous proposal. In the context of one nation, one destiny motto the incoming Shehu Shagari presidency distilled from words of national anthem, the pledge and shared federation experiences, the Sharia diversion was discrminatory and provocative. The idea of a parallel grundnorm based on one faith in a multi religious State feeds on bigotry. It’s one of the most insensitive things for anybody to canvass in Nigeria’s quasi federal structure with a strong centre.

The 1978 constituent assembly stalemated on this divisive subject, as did also the 1989 and 1994 constitutional assemblies. The well – founded rejection of Sharia was only reversed by military dictatorship. Let it be emphasised that it was only by arbitrary decision of few persons standing on ethno – religious loyalties in the respective ruling juntas that the Islamic ideology was smuggled into Nigeria’s Constitution. Sharia provisions in past and present Constitutions remain what it is – imposition of an offensive, sectional worldview on the rest of Nigerians. Accordingly, it’s a seed of socio – political instability planted in the soil of our polity. It’s effects cannot be contained by the passage of time because the seed is inherently dysfunctional.

Imposition of a religious ideology against better judgement and expressed will of Nigerians has continued to haunt the country. It projects one out of the religions practised by Nigerians as superior, dominant. This triggers pride of state recognition, a trail of officialdom in the affairs of the elevated religion. This environment of indulgence fosters that sense of entitlement that impels zealots into beginning to place limitations on other religions. Speaking on Channels Television, Tuesday, November 4, 2025, Ladi Thompson, a security consultant, was in agreement that these streams of extremes formed the “ideological and structural roots of terrorism in Nigeria.”

Under this climate of coronation, Maitatsine arose in 1981 to push his compulsive right of way. The issue is not whether he espoused fringe, extremist Islam or was not even considered a muslim by some. What is central is the mentality that religious ideas could be propagated by coercive means. Related to that was the assurance about having a territory of their own. A sense of divine mission, however delusional, dictated carving out space for a religious empire. And so, a call to arms and massacre of those who refused to surrender their sanity. In 1986, a chilling message was delivered with Nigeria’s registration with Organisation of Islamic Countries.

It’s important to note that the name was Organisation of Islamic Countries at the time and for about ten years afterwards. Taking Nigeria, a country with population split halfway between Christians and Muslims into OIC was an act of contempt for non muslims. Islamisation was afoot. Nigeria’s continued membership of OIC since then and involvement in new, similar organisations is even more telling. Public outcry means nothing. About 1995, a Christian, Gideon Akaluka, was accused of committing blasphemy in Kano State. Shortly after, he was sprung from prison where he was under protective custody and beheaded by a mob. And nothing happened. The assailants were not murderers, they were executors of unquestionable sentence. Abuja, once advertised as unity city, the pride of the nation, prostrated to the army of religious ideology in 2001. In this same city of equal stake for all Nigerians, a beauty contest organised by Silverbird Productions would not hold because adherents of a certain religion vetoed the legitimate venture with riots.   

 A problem well defined is the first step toward finding solutions. That is the essence of Chinua Achebe’s wise words about a people knowing where the rain began to beat them. Let us  therefore be clear that a history of religious supremacy paved the road for the ongoing persecution of Christians in Nigeria. Nigeria continues to travel a road of injustice; a road of shameless discrimination where Catholic universities are not allowed to prefix the defining marker, Saint to their names; so that instead of St Peter University, it’s truncated to Peter University. Yet, this same system fraudulently boasting secularity splashes the terms Islam, Sharia, Grand Kadi, Muslims ad infinitum from Sections 275 to 279 of the amended 1979 Constitution; in which same document there is not a whisper, not a breath, not the faintest scent of the words, Christian, Bible, Canon Law, ten commandments, Church! Lest we forget, some provisions of the 1999 Constitution were deviations from resolutions of the 1994 Constitutional Conference. For some, the version of 1999 Constitution promulgated by the Abubakar Abdulsalami junta ought to be discarded for a new, inclusive Constitution.

Government’s acts of omission and commission in the ascendance of faith precepts, values and culture to public statutes softened the ground for violation of rights of other Nigerians. A reign of impunity under which religious laws became state laws and fanatics trampled on other religions without repercussions sent signals to ethno – religious hegemonists. The impression that some religions are mightier than others in Nigeria is part of what attracted the foreign fighters in search of a caliphate.

The task, it seemed, would be easier here with the mileage already achieved in marginalisation of contending faiths. This played out especially under Mohammadu Buhari’s presidency when ethno – religious cleansing surged in the south, middle belt and Christian – majority parts of the north. _The Punch_ August 7, 2021 published the joint findings of International Committee on Nigeria and the International Organisation for Peace Building & Social Justice. The report said: “There is strong evidence and a compelling legal argument that over the past decade or so, and increasingly under the current Fulani – dominated government of Mohammadu Buhari, Nigeria is experiencing what could be seen as targeted religious genocide, or what, at the very least, is widespread and often coordinated religious campaigns being conducted against Christians.”

Despite convenient political denials, the circumstances of Christian genocide are strong and widespread. They include the self – evident accounts in the public domain, reported by both local and international media. Ironically, the case of targeted violence against Christians is significantly strengthened by past representations of latter day deniers. We recall that 

Chibok is a Christian – dominated local government of Borno State. Estimates put the population of Christians between eighty and ninety – five percent. This fact was clear to the Boko Haram sect when the group launched a night invasion of a female secondary school in Chibok town. Slavish marriage was one of the means used by the militants to conscript some of the girls into their brand of Islam. The abductors demanded of Leah Sharibu, a great witness of Christ, to renounce her Christian faith in exchange for freedom. She would not. In slow martyrdom, she has spent ten years plus in punitive captivity. Yet, some argue there is no targeting of Christians.

Between them, killer herdsmen and jihadist terrorists have massacred thousands of Christians in the past two decades, destroyed Christian communities, seized lands and gone as far as renaming usurped areas! In 2014, Bola Tinubu weighed in on Nigeria’s insecurity, saying, the “slaughtering of Christian worshippers is strongly condemnable.” Femi Fani Kayode stated categorically in 2019: “Nigeria has had more Christians murdered, more Churches bombed and burnt and more clerics slaughtered than any other country over the last 58 years.” And some lamely ask how the Trump – Cruz fellows arrived at the conclusion of genocide?

The hard, narrow way is often the more rewarding. For Nigeria at this delicate juncture, it’s about equal treatment of religions. Let the process of dismantling preferential faith structures and policies begin.

The views expressed by contributors are strictly personal and not of Law & Society Magazine.

By Abdul-Aziz Jimoh Esq.

With respect to Mr. Femi Falana, SAN, I earnestly believe that the facts on ground in the Wike/Naval Lieutenant Yerima confrontation does not bring the issue within the purview of section 11 of the Land Use Act, 1978. Are the inspection envisaged under section 11 coupled with an intention to enter land with a bulldozer to destroy buildings thereon?Absolutely not!

The section provides as follows:

“The Governor or any public officer duly authorised by the Governor in that behalf shall have the power to enter upon and inspect the land comprised in any statutory right of occupancy or any improvements effected thereon at any reasonable hours in the day time and the occupier shall permit and give free access to the Governor or any such officer so to enter and inspect.” (Emphasis mine)

It is a notorious fact that the Minister of the FCT has been entering land and bulldozing buildings thereon. In this particular instance, the officials of the Minister had gone to the land with a bulldozer! They were barred by Naval personnel led by Naval Lieutenant Yerima. They reported to the Minister, who then charged to the site in a fit of fury with several armed security operatives. He was also resisted by the military personnel, quite lawfully too! Aside from the Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, which is the grundnorm, a military General (or equivalent) in the Armed forces (serving or retired) is entitled to military protection of his life and properties. This should dispel a lot of surprisingly ignorant and misinformed position that military men should not be found protecting private properties! That is definitely not true and there is no law that says so!

Now, back to the main issue, it is pertinent to ask this very germane question: are bulldozers now also governorship/ministerial inspectors envisaged by the section 11 of the Land Use Act, 1978? We must be careful not to unwittingly sanction a flagrant abuse of section 11 of the Land Use Act, which is exactly what the FCT Minister, Nyesom Wike has been doing under the Land Use Act. I do not know of where any Governor has gone to inspect land accompanied by a bulldozer. Accordingly, the provisions of section 11 must be viewed with the magnifying glass of antecedents and practical realities of the factual situation presented by each case. Here is a Minister notoriously known for just bulldozing buildings in adverse possession without allowing the owners to evacuate their valuables. Such a man now shows up on site with bulldozers and a battalion of security agents! Unless one wishes to ignore the obvious, minister Wike was not at the site to inspect land under section 11 of the Land Use Act; he was there to recover possession and demolish the buildings being constructed there under a whimsical section of laws made and operated by the Minister! I therefore respectfully disagree with the opinion of Mr. Femi Falana, SAN., in so far as it purports to give a Legislative imprimatur to the visit of the Minister. To enter upon and Inspect under section 11 of the Land Use Act does not include, and must not be stretched to include, the forceful takeover and bulldozing of buildings on land in adverse possession!

Support for my humble disagreement with the learned Silk is the opinion eloquently espoused by Mr. Falana, SAN., on 31st October 2025 when he appeared on Arise TV in Abuja. The learned Silk submitted, inter alia, that no Governor or Minister has the right to demolish any building without following the due process of law. He went on to submit that in Abuja there is a Regional and Urban Tribunal set up to determine when a house should go down in Abuja; and that the Minister cannot usurp the powers of that Tribunal. I implore you to listen to Mr. Femi Falana, SAN from the said programme, specifically from 3:33 – 07 min!

In conclusion, given the very sound legal opinion expressed by Mr. Femi Falani, SAN., on 31st October 2025, I respectfully disagree that the visit of Mr. Nyesom Wike, with several security agents and a bulldozer, to the site of the retired Chief of Naval Staff was “to enter and inspect” the property under section 11 of the Land Use Act; he went there to demolish the buildings thereon. Such action required a Court order! It cannot, therefore, be correct to say that Minister Nyesom Wike acted within his powers under Section 11 of the Land Use Act! The Naval security personnel were perfectly entitled to resist the Minister and have not violated section 11 of the Land Use Act by so doing.

Abdul-Aziz Jimoh Esq.
[email protected]
08125167892

The views expressed by contributors are strictly personal and not of Law & Society Magazine.