By Mogaji Wole Arisekola
Watching Politics Today with Seun Okinbaloye on Channels Television has always been my joy — an opportunity to learn and hear directly from the horse’s mouth of Nigerian politicians. I was struck by the eloquence of Adewole Adebayo, the Social Democratic Party’s (SDP) presidential candidate.
The 53-year-old product of Obafemi Awolowo University is a master of words and spoke eloquently, reminiscent of a student leader from one of Nigeria’s public universities. His delivery was polished, his arguments carefully constructed — but beneath the surface lay a bitter undercurrent of disdain for a fellow Yoruba man, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu. That moment reopened an old wound in my mind: the recurring tendency of the Yoruba to turn against their own leaders at critical political junctures.
The Yoruba of southwestern Nigeria are famed for their hospitality, openness, and the Omoluabi ethos — placing honour above material gain. They have embraced strangers, avoided ethnic violence, and contributed greatly to Nigeria’s progress since independence. Yet, history reveals a paradox: when one of their own rises to national prominence, they often lead the charge to pull him down.
This pattern is not new. In the First Republic, Chief Obafemi Awolowo — architect of free education, industrial estates, and modern governance — was betrayed by members of his political family, some of whom sided with the federal government against him. His imprisonment in 1963 remains, in the view of many historians, politically motivated and enabled by Yoruba collaborators.
Three decades later, in 1993, Chief Moshood Kashimawo Olawale (MKO) Abiola won Nigeria’s freest and fairest election. Instead of uniting behind him when his mandate was annulled, some Yoruba elites aligned with the military regime, accepting positions and patronage while Abiola languished in detention. He died without reclaiming his mandate — partly because his people lacked the collective will to fight for him.
Today, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu faces a similar fate. Less than two years into his presidency, some of the most vicious and sustained attacks on his leadership are coming, not from the North or Southeast, but from within the Yoruba fold. Adewole Adebayo’s recent televised tirade is only one example — a mix of political criticism and personal contempt delivered with surgical precision.
This stands in sharp contrast to other regions. During Muhammadu Buhari’s eight-year rule, despite economic collapse, insecurity, and deep national divisions, Northern leaders closed ranks and shielded him from internal sabotage. In the Southeast, Peter Obi enjoys an almost sacred status — his people defend him relentlessly, whether he is right or wrong.
The Yoruba, however, are quick to dismantle their own. Before outsiders can sharpen their knives, they have already delivered the first cut. In their bid to appear “objective” or “different,” they often hand the weapons of political destruction to rival regions. The result? Repeated erosion of their influence in Abuja.
A majority of the political gladiators who removed Oba Rasidi Adewolu Ladoja from office as Oyo State governor were his kinsmen.
They manipulated many of their followers into believing that they were working for their interest. In reality, they were only after what would come into their pockets.
Today, the whole of Ibadan is without a political leader. The city is languishing in political oblivion.
From Awolowo’s downfall to Abiola’s abandonment, and now the escalating internal opposition to Tinubu, the pattern is clear: ideological divisions, personal ambitions, and misplaced notions of fairness consistently weaken Yoruba political leverage. Tinubu is not flawless, but he is attempting economic reforms and structural changes that could outlast his tenure. If he fails due to internal betrayal, the Yoruba risk another generation in the political wilderness.
Political loyalty does not mean blind worship; it means protecting your own from external destruction while holding them accountable within the family. The Hausa-Fulani have mastered this. The Igbo have turned it into a political shield. Until the Yoruba learn this lesson, they will remain brilliant makers of leaders — and tragic masters of their own downfall.
Mogaji Wole Arisekola writes from Ibadan.