By Babafemi Ojudu

My dear brother,

Welcome home. Today, as Nigeria marks the anniversary of her independence, we are reminded that the promise of freedom must find meaning in the dignity, security and well-being of our people. I hope your time away has brought you some rest and renewed strength.

The months ahead will test you as a leader and as a candidate seeking another mandate. More consequentially, they will test our country.

I write because I believe you need to hear, plainly and from someone who wishes you well, how difficult life has become for many Nigerians.

I have wrestled with the decision to make this an open letter. Our relationship has been strained, and we have not seen each other since 2022. I made no secret of my decision neither to work for your election nor to vote for you in 2023. Some will therefore question my motives. I cannot control their interpretation. I can only tell you that I write with affection for an old friend and with concern for our country.

Two recent sermons finally persuaded me to put pen to paper. In different churches, the clergymen spoke at length about hunger and poverty. One was Bishop Felix Femi Ajakaiye of the Catholic Church, a respected cleric not given to theatrics. He spoke during the funeral of our mutual friend, Senator Tony Adeniyi.

His words, and those of the other clergyman, stayed with me. These are men who encounter people in distress every day. What they described is also what one hears in homes, markets and conversations across the country: people are struggling to afford food, medicine, rent, school fees and transport. Many have adjusted their lives as far as they can and still cannot make ends meet. For those who earn anything at all, their earnings buy less and less.

You and I go back a long way. We knew each other in the struggle against military rule, through your campaign for the governorship of Lagos State and through some of the trials that followed. You have stood by me at times, and I have stood by you.

I remember one night shortly before your election as governor. I took you to the home of a senior security official, Mr Ibrahim Solomon, in Ikoyi, because we feared the election might be rigged against you. A decent and patriotic public servant, he assured us that the security apparatus would ensure fairness, and he kept his word.

On our way back, at about 1.30 a.m., your driver, the late Mustapha, fell asleep at the wheel on the Third Mainland Bridge. The car struck the railing. We were fortunate to escape with our lives. You asked me to drive us on to Alausa, although I had never driven a car with an automatic transmission. Somehow, I got us there.

I recall that night because it speaks to the length and nature of our association. After your victory, I helped manage the transition committees and your inauguration programme. When you asked what position I wanted in your government, I said I would return to journalism. I believed you should have at least one person outside government who could come to you and speak honestly, without sycophancy or the pursuit of personal advantage.

During your eight years as governor, that was the role I tried to play. I did not come to you seeking an appointment or a favour for myself. Alhaji Lai Mohammed, then your Chief of Staff, would sometimes see me at your office and joke, “Our opposition has come. What have we done wrong again?”

It is in that same spirit that I write today.

Asiwaju, hardship has become the defining experience of too many Nigerians. You may hear that difficult measures were necessary and that the figures now show progress. Even where some indicators are improving, the question you must ask is whether that progress can be felt in an ordinary household. A parent who cannot pay school fees or buy medicine cannot live on a projection of future relief. Progress must mean food on the table, a child in school, treatment for the sick and a reasonable chance to earn a living.

I ask you to review your policies with that household in mind. Examine the cumulative burden of fuel prices, transport costs and the rising cost of basic food. Direct your team to identify where government can bring prompt, measurable relief, and ensure that every intervention reaches those for whom it is intended. Nigerians need both a credible path out of hardship and evidence that their government understands what they are enduring now.

Security requires the same candour and urgency. In communities where people fear travelling, farming or going about their business, promises of prosperity ring hollow. No farmer should have to choose between tending a field and staying alive. The anxiety people feel about their safety compounds their economic distress.

So, too, does the suspicion between communities. At a time like this, the President’s words, choices and appointments must reassure Nigerians that they belong equally to this country and are equally entitled to its protection and opportunities.

Please widen the circle of people you listen to. Seek out Nigerians of goodwill from every part of the country, including those who disagree with you. Invite them to speak freely about what is working, what is failing and what needs to change. A leader gains little from advisers who shield him from unwelcome news. He gains much from those willing to tell him the truth while there is still time to act on it.

You have always valued opinion research. Commission a serious, independent assessment of how Nigerians are living and what they think of the government’s response. Let it reach beyond party meetings and official briefings. We used such evidence together in the past. Sometimes the findings were uncomfortable, but you listened and adjusted course. I urge you to bring that openness to this moment.

There is another duty that rests especially on you as President. As the election approaches, ensure that the institutions of government carry out their responsibilities freely and impartially. The security services must protect every voter, candidate and election official, and safeguard the process without favour or intimidation. INEC must have the independence, resources and space to conduct the election and declare its outcome according to the law and the votes cast.

You are a candidate in that election, but you are also the President entrusted with protecting the process for everyone. A credible election will serve Nigeria well, whatever its result. Respect and uphold the independence of the judiciary so that the courts can adjudicate impartially, guided by the facts and the law, free from pressure or interference.

These democratic principles brought us together. You fought for them and repeatedly risked your life in their defence. Remember, dear brother, the days you spent beneath the stairs at Alagbon, the dreaded police headquarters in Lagos, lying on a thin piece of foam alongside your then Senate colleagues, Abu Ibrahim and Ahmed Ebute. Remember why you endured those indignities and what you hoped our country would become. The freedom to choose our leaders was at the heart of that struggle. It must remain sacred today.

The forthcoming election will give Nigerians their opportunity to judge your stewardship. How you govern in the months ahead, and how you uphold their right to choose, will help define your legacy.

You have every right to ask for a renewed mandate. The Nigerian people have every right to weigh that request against their lived experience. Your most persuasive campaign in the coming months will therefore be the decisions you make as President: whether you hear their concerns, change what needs changing and ease the burdens they carry.

Should Nigerians renew your mandate through a free, fair and credible election, it would be an affirmation of their confidence in your leadership and the course you have set.

And if, after giving all you can, the people choose another course, accept their verdict with grace. There is honour in serving one’s country and in respecting its democratic choice. Either outcome must rest on the freely expressed will of Nigerians.

My dear brother, God has been good to you, and you have devoted much of your life to public service. I remember the risks you took, the sacrifices you made and the long nights of political struggle, sustained by cups of black coffee and your determination to serve your country. I want you to finish well. I want Nigeria to come through this difficult period stronger, more secure, more united and more democratic.

That is why I ask you, with sincerity and without malice: listen closely to the people, reconsider what is causing them pain, and act while you still have the power to bring them relief.

Happy Independence Anniversary.

Yours sincerely,

Senator Babafemi Ojudu, CON