My Last Take on the Matter

I don’t think people are celebrating the man’s death or insulting him. If there were any celebratory reactions, most of them came from the North, his own kinsmen. What Nigerians are responding to is the whitewashing of his legacy, a legacy felt painfully by millions, just because a privileged few benefited from the system.

The real lesson we all need to learn is simple:
What you do here matters.

Our leaders need to understand that this isn’t our parents’ Nigeria, where things could happen and be swept under the carpet. This is the digital age. Actions are documented in real time. Receipts are everywhere. Narratives can no longer be massaged and manipulated.

Before your Creator judges you, those you leave behind will judge too.

Yes, maybe he made peace with God before dying, and we hope so, but that doesn’t erase his earthly legacy or the consequences of his leadership. Not everyone will mourn you, and that’s okay. But when millions speak with one voice, you can’t dismiss their truth.

And to those who were beneficiaries of his system, who now defend the silence, deny the pain, or dismiss the suffering because they were favoured — I say: That’s a dangerous place to stand.

Mr. Opeyemi Babalola shared a powerful illustration that fits this moment:

“You attend a 5-day convention, where the organisers promise to feed all attendees free of charge. You happen to have a relative among those cooking in the kitchen, so you’re assured of food.
Your relative sneaks meals to you while others starve outside.
By Day 3, people begin to complain, but you say,
‘The foodstuffs aren’t enough.’
‘They’re rationing the gas; let’s appreciate them.’
‘The heat in the kitchen is too much; we should be thanking them.’
‘At least the food is free; people should stop complaining.’
All the while, you know your person will still sneak food out for you.”

Let that sink in.

Some people are angry today not because lies are being told, but because the truth is being said aloud. The comfort they enjoyed came at the cost of others who were barely surviving. And now they can’t stand the fact that we remember.

This isn’t bitterness.
It’s honesty.
It’s memory.
And it’s necessary.

Because in the end, we will all be remembered,not by our titles or intentions, but by what we did.

Let that truth humble us all.