
By Edwin Nwachukwu
Chai! Who opened the gates to the playground? It appears my beloved Abia State, ordained by the heavens as a sanctuary for infrastructure and a five-star resort for weary travelers, has suddenly decided that governance is a secondary school debating society project.
For decades, we endured “sleeping masters” in Government House, governors whose primary contribution to development was mastering the art of the afternoon siesta while the state’s coffers performed vanishing acts.
We waited for a miracle. Then, in 2023, the Almighty apparently looked down, shook His head, and said, “Enough of this comedy.”
He whispered into the ears of the universe, and Professor Nnenna Otti materialized as the INEC Returning Officer. With the divine spirit guiding her pen and a resistance to “devilish” political spoilers, she delivered us from the darkness.
Now, just as the state is finally finding its footing under a workaholic governor, the masquerades have crawled out from under the rocks. They are desperately trying to turn the hands of the clock backward, hoping we’ll forget what progress looks like. They want us to return to the era of pothole-riddled “infrastructure” and stagnant development. God forbid!
Suddenly, the air is filled with the shrieks of political kindergartners. Enter the scene-stealer: actress Doris Ogala. She has officially emerged as the gubernatorial candidate for the African Action Congress (AAC), declaring with the confidence of a toddler threatening to hold their breath until they get a toy, “I will unseat Governor Alex Otti come 2027.”
One must pause to offer a polite tutorial to Ogala: Abia State is not a movie set. The governorship is not a role you audition for because you’re bored between takes. It is certainly not a sandbox for children who are still growing their political baby teeth.
Does she plan to govern by dramatic monologues or by cinematic cutaways? Perhaps the policy documents will be replaced by scripts, and the budget will be a prop from a Nollywood set. If this is the new standard for the AAC, the state might need to invest in a daycare center at the Government House rather than a cabinet office.
Abia has finally graduated from the era of sleeping masters; we have absolutely no intention of enrolling in a nursery school run by celebrities. Keep the drama for the screen, because in 2027, the adults will still be working.
The political theatre in Abia State is currently reaching a fever pitch. With the 2027 general elections looming, the state has become a high-stakes arena where the “workaholic” narrative of the current administration is colliding with the ambitious, often dramatic, maneuvers of opposition hopefuls.
As of May 2026, Governor Alex Otti has officially secured the Labour Party (LP) ticket for a second term, emerging unopposed in primaries that saw massive voter turnout. His campaign is anchored on a “three-year anniversary” report card that highlights infrastructure gains and significant debt reduction. Meanwhile, the political landscape is buzzing with: Consolidation vs. Contention.
Governor Otti has warned his party that “the job has just started.” He is framing his re-election as a necessary continuation of the “restoration” of Abia, while opposition parties are frantically recalibrating to find a crack in his armor.
It isn’t just the governorship that is heating up; key legislative figures, including Senator Enyinnaya Abaribe, have also secured their party tickets to remain in the mix, ensuring that the legislative arm remains a hotbed of political power-brokering.
While candidates like the aforementioned Doris Ogala may capture headlines with bold, cinematic declarations, the current reality suggests that Abia’s electorate is focused heavily on the track record of those already in the saddle.
The current political season feels less like a democratic process and more like a high-budget Nollywood sequel where the plot keeps thickening.
If politics were a box office, Governor Otti is currently the lead actor attempting to maintain his “Governor of the Year” rating, while the opposition is holding open auditions for a plot twist.
Every press conference from an aspiring candidate, especially those transitioning from the red carpet to the ballot box is treated by the public like a scene from an action movie: plenty of explosions, dramatic music, and intense threats, but very little “infrastructure” in the script.
The voters, however, have become tough critics. They have moved past the era of “sleeping masters” and are no longer interested in actors who forget their lines or improvisation that leads to empty pockets.
In 2027, the audience in Abia isn’t looking for a performance; they are looking for the person who can actually pay the electricity bill and keep the roads motorable.

