On the Frontline With Boma
Nigeria’s democracy is facing many visible battles — insecurity, hardship, unemployment, inflation and the widening gulf between government and the governed. Yet, one subtle but dangerous problem continues to grow quietly, eating into the very foundation of public life. It is the steady collapse of political communication into threats, insults, and needless hostility, driven largely by spokespersons who have mistaken their duty for combat rather than public service.
In every functioning democracy, communication is not an accessory. It is governance. It shapes trust, protects institutions, and determines how citizens relate with authority. But in Nigeria today, political communication is increasingly being reduced to a contest of aggression. Some public officials speak as if their offices are personal estates. Their aides, rather than restrain them, often amplify the heat, respond with contempt to legitimate criticism, and treat dissent as rebellion. This is not merely poor manners; it is a political culture that weakens institutions and deepens public frustration.
The recent episode in Rivers State, and the reactions that followed, provide a fresh reminder of how far public communication has drifted from decency.
At a function held recently in Port Harcourt, widely interpreted by observers as a deliberate display of federal presence and political might in Rivers State, a former governor of Rivers State, now Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, was reported to have made a remark that triggered outrage across political and civil circles. He was quoted as saying he would force his way into the 16,000-capacity Yakubu Gowon Stadium in Port Harcourt should Governor Siminalayi Fubara fail to grant approval for its use.
It was a remark that landed like a slap on democratic culture Beyond the noise it generated, the statement carried what I would describe as a three-pronged implication: aggression, disrespect for the office of governor and by extension the electorate, and a dangerous attempt to suggest that public facilities and institutions can be overridden by raw political power. A stadium owned or managed by the state is not private property. Access to it is governed by procedure. The governor is not simply an individual who can be spoken to anyhow; he is the chief executive of the state, elected by the people. If a minister believes the stadium should be used for a public event, consultation and due process should be the route, not threatening language.
Even if politics in Nigeria is often loud and theatrical, certain lines should not be crossed. Public office is not a motor park. The language of public office should not suggest that state facilities are personal property to be broken into at will.
One must also ask what message such rhetoric sends to the larger society. If a senior federal official can speak publicly about “breaking into” a state facility, what lesson does that teach ordinary citizens about order, legality and respect for authority? Democracy survives on institutions, not intimidation. The moment leaders begin to speak as if rules are optional, citizens too begin to lose faith in rules.
But beyond the statement itself lies a deeper and more troubling issue: the role of spokespersons and what happens when they stray.
No matter how provocative a public personality may be, the duty of a spokesperson is not to worsen matters. The spokesperson exists largely to manage tension, protect the image of government, clarify positions and reduce controversy. In civil democracies, spokespersons are trained to speak with restraint, to de-escalate, to keep their principals from unnecessary public backlash, and to maintain a tone that reassures citizens. But in Nigeria, we increasingly see spokespersons who behave as though their assignment is to intimidate critics and silence disagreement.
This is why the Lere Olayinka example is important.
Lere Olayinka is a known media personality and political aide who has, over the years, gained a reputation for responding to criticism in a combative manner. His defenders may describe his approach as loyalty. Yet, loyalty without discipline is not loyalty; it is recklessness. A spokesperson’s duty is to defend policy and protect the dignity of office, not to insult citizens or provoke unnecessary controversy. There is a difference between defending a principal and attacking the public. There is a difference between clarification and confrontation.
Olayinka rose prominently within political communication circles during the era of former Ekiti State Governor Ayo Fayose, a politician whose public style was itself confrontational. Fayose’s political journey is dramatic and well known — from impeachment during his first tenure, which many Nigerians at the time believed was politically motivated, to a political comeback that saw him return and serve another term. That era produced a communication culture that often thrived on conflict rather than consensus, on noise rather than persuasion.
But democracy is not designed for permanent hostility. Politics is not war. Public office is not a battlefield. It is a responsibility. And in a country as fragile and diverse as Nigeria, words matter. Leaders cannot afford to speak carelessly, and aides cannot afford to respond recklessly. Nigeria is already a tense country. Our citizens are exhausted. Public communication should calm the nation, not inflame it.
What makes the conduct of some spokespersons even more disturbing is their growing habit of discrediting journalists and public commentators simply because they ask hard questions or hold contrary opinions. This is dangerous because democracy depends on scrutiny. The press exists to ask questions, not to clap for government. Criticism is not treason. Disagreement is not rebellion. A journalist who questions a government official is not an enemy of the state.
Recently, Olayinka was reported to have attacked a seasoned journalist, dismissing him and suggesting that he “is not a journalist.” Such a comment is not only unnecessary; it reveals a troubling misunderstanding of professional identity. Journalism is not determined by what a person studied at the university. A person may hold a Master’s degree in Agric Economics, Engineering, Political Science or any other discipline and still be a journalist by practice, competence, ethics and years of professional work. Indeed, many respected journalists in Nigeria and beyond studied disciplines outside Mass Communication. What defines journalism is output, professionalism, training, experience and adherence to ethical standards ,not the title of one’s degree.
Therefore, when a political spokesperson attempts to “license” who qualifies as a journalist simply because he occupies political space, it signals intolerance and insecurity. It also represents a subtle attempt to intimidate the press. And when the press is intimidated, society suffers. A democracy that insults journalists is already drifting into a conflict with truth. Public officials should respond to journalists with facts, not contempt.
The Rivers controversy took another dimension when the Rivers State Government reportedly refused to align with an event described as an inauguration under the “Renewed Hope Agenda,” conducted by the minister in Port Harcourt. The Rivers Government had publicly acknowledged President Bola Tinubu’s mandate and leadership, yet its decision not to participate in that particular event became a basis for attacks and public scolding.
At that point, one must ask: when did federal governance become so personalised that every state must participate in the political programmes of individual appointees to prove loyalty? A minister is not the federal government. A minister is not the President. A minister is an appointee of the President, serving at his pleasure. It is therefore unfair and politically dangerous for any spokesperson to create the impression that disagreement with a minister’s approach amounts to opposition to the President or hostility to federal authority. Such a narrative does not build unity; it creates division.
Nigeria is a federation. State governments are not branches of federal ministries. Cooperation is necessary, but it must be guided by respect and law, not by coercive rhetoric. Spokespersons must understand that they do not help their principals by escalating institutional tension. They help their principals by strengthening trust.
There is also the wider implication of these episodes. When political spokespersons repeatedly insult citizens, ridicule professionals and dismiss legitimate criticism, they contribute to a culture where public accountability becomes impossible. Citizens begin to withdraw from public debate because the space becomes toxic. Professionals avoid contributing their expertise because they fear being dragged into unnecessary verbal battles. Journalists become targets simply for doing their jobs. This is how societies decline — not only by physical insecurity but by the insecurity of ideas.
A spokesperson is meant to be the bridge between power and the people. He should translate government decisions into language the public understands. He should explain policies, not personalise issues. He should correct misinformation, not spread hostility. He should defend his principal with facts, not with contempt. The moment spokespersons begin to behave like partisan fighters, they destroy the very credibility they were hired to build.
And it must be said: the behaviour of spokespersons often reflects the character of their principals. Communication is not accidental. It is chosen. A leader who values maturity will insist on measured communication. A leader who respects institutions will not tolerate reckless statements from aides. A leader who understands the weight of office will choose a spokesperson who speaks with discipline. But where a spokesperson is consistently hostile and combative, it creates the impression that such conduct is either encouraged or tolerated.
In public perception, tolerance is endorsement.
This is why Nigerian politicians must be careful with the kind of people they assign to speak for them. Spokespersons are not hired to insult citizens. They are not appointed to provoke needless conflict. They are meant to protect reputations, not damage them. They are meant to build bridges, not burn them. In a country already battling tension, leaders should not add verbal hostility to the list of national burdens.
As Nigeria gradually approaches another political season, political communication must return to decency. Spokespersons must return to professionalism. Leaders must understand that power without restraint is dangerous. And aides must realise that loyalty without discipline is a liability. It is not strength to insult people. It is not courage to attack journalists. It is not intelligence to escalate political tension. True strength is restraint. True courage is respect for institutions. True intelligence is communicating firmly without losing dignity.
Public officials may leave office, but their words remain. History is unforgiving to those who used power to intimidate, insult and silence. Democracy grows only where leaders accept scrutiny and respect opposing views. If Nigerian politicians must win back public trust, then they must begin with the basics — respect for citizens, respect for institutions, and respect in language.
As the elders say, when a man sends a messenger without wisdom, he should not complain when the message returns in disgrace.
