By Valentine Obienyem
Despite his unprepossessing appearance, Comrade Adams Oshiomhole once cut the figure of a committed and courageous labour leader. His physiognomy seemed forged in the trenches of trade unionism: the intense, darting eyes and perpetual readiness for verbal combat reflected the instincts of a fighter.
During his tenure at the helm of the Nigeria Labour Congress (NLC), the labour movement enjoyed considerable prominence. He injected it with unusual energy, vitality, and a combative spirit, all housed in a small frame that seemed to contain an oversized fighting instinct.
He gave workers a voice that those in authority could hardly ignore. His confrontations with successive governments earned him a reputation as a man who could challenge power without blinking. For a considerable period, Oshiomhole represented the possibility that an ordinary man, armed with courage and conviction, could confront an entrenched establishment.
His popularity as a labour leader paved the way for his eventual emergence as Governor of Edo State. The transition from labour activism to partisan politics was not unusual, but what distinguished Oshiomhole was the expectation that he would transfer the same courage, discipline, and concern for ordinary people into public administration. Many believed that the man who had challenged governments on behalf of workers would, when entrusted with power, demonstrate an uncommon commitment to accountability and public welfare.
Among those with whom Oshiomhole developed a close relationship during his years as governor was Mr Peter Obi, then Governor of Anambra State. Their relationship was marked by mutual respect and an appreciation of certain principles of public administration. Oshiomhole once acknowledged that he stood on Obi’s shoulders to count his achievements. He also credited Obi with inspiring and encouraging him to pursue his stolen electoral mandate through the courts to its logical conclusion. It was a remarkable acknowledgement from a man who would later become one of Obi’s most persistent critics. In this respect, Oshiomhole appears to have found kindred spirits in politicians such as Umahi, Wike, and Soludo, whose criticisms of Obi have also become recurring features of public discourse.
When Oshiomhole was seeking re-election, he invited Peter Obi to campaign for him, citing Obi’s impressive record. I personally accompanied Obi to Benin on several occasions to campaign for Oshiomhole. Those visits were not incidental. They reflected a relationship in which Obi’s reputation as a governor who took public finance and responsible governance seriously was considered an electoral asset. Oshiomhole was sufficiently impressed by Obi’s record to seek his endorsement before the Edo electorate. He publicly described Obi as a governor whose personal life and public conduct he considered worthy of emulation.
It is therefore difficult to reconcile that history with Oshiomhole’s subsequent attacks on Obi, often in language more suited to a personal quarrel than a serious political disagreement. Political relationships can change, and former allies are perfectly entitled to disagree. Democracy requires the freedom to criticise even those one once admired. However, there is a difference between principled disagreement and sustained disparagement that appears to disregard one’s own earlier declarations. When someone who once acknowledged another man’s achievements and actively sought his support later behaves as though that same man has nothing worthwhile to offer, it is reasonable to ask: what has changed—the facts, the principles, or the political calculations?
A few months ago, Oshiomhole accused Obi of establishing and working with the Bakassi group. The allegation was particularly perplexing because, to the best of my knowledge, the group was not operating in Anambra State before Obi became governor. The chronology therefore raises an obvious question: what evidence supports the allegation? Serious accusations require more than political rhetoric; they require verifiable facts. Without such evidence, the allegation risks becoming an instrument of blackmail rather than a genuine attempt to establish the truth.
More recently, Oshiomhole questioned how Obi could have saved money in dollars when Anambra’s allocations were paid in naira. Yet the currency in which revenue is received does not, by itself, determine the currency in which savings may prudently be held. The relevant questions are whether the transactions were lawful, transparent, properly authorised, and beneficial to the state. Dr Alex Otti, then Managing Director of Diamond Bank, reportedly advised Obi to convert part of Anambra’s savings into dollars to protect their value against the depreciation of the naira. The rationale was straightforward: public savings should be managed in a way that preserves their purchasing power, subject to the risks and safeguards involved.
Curiously, Oshiomhole himself had previously advocated the payment of federal revenues in dollars, arguing from the importance of foreign exchange in the country’s earnings. Why, then, should holding a portion of public savings in foreign currency suddenly become incomprehensible when Obi is involved? The two situations are not identical, but the underlying principle—that foreign currency has a legitimate place in financial management—demands a consistent explanation. Holding dollars is neither automatically prudent nor inherently improper; the circumstances, legality, and purpose of the decision must determine the judgement.
I recall Obi recounting how some governors resisted the advice of Dr Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala on the importance of saving public funds for a rainy day. According to Obi’s account, Oshiomhole protested that it was already raining and that every kobo accruing to the Federation Account should be shared immediately. The remark captures a fundamental disagreement about public finance. Governments must meet present needs, but they must also prepare for future difficulties. Saving is not an argument against building roads, equipping hospitals, improving schools, or paying salaries. It is an argument for ensuring that immediate expenditure does not leave a government financially vulnerable when revenues decline or emergencies arise.
The irony is difficult to overlook: a man who reportedly resisted the argument for preserving public resources now questions the wisdom of another governor’s savings. Intellectual honesty requires consistency, or at least an explanation when one’s present position appears to contradict one’s earlier stance.
There is another dimension to this controversy. As Governor of Edo State from 2008 to 2016, Oshiomhole raised a ₦25 billion bond in the capital market to finance infrastructure, particularly the Benin City stormwater project. Earlier he had borrowed billions. Borrowing is not, in itself, evidence of financial recklessness; its justification depends on the purpose, cost, transparency, and benefits of the expenditure. Nevertheless, a politician who defended borrowing to finance development should appreciate that financial decisions must be evaluated by their rationale and outcomes, not dismissed merely because they involve a particular financial instrument.
The question, therefore, is not whether Oshiomhole borrowed or whether Obi held dollars. It is whether the decisions taken by each administration were lawful, prudent, transparent, and beneficial to the people. Oshiomhole’s own defence of public borrowing makes it particularly important that he apply consistent standards when examining Obi’s financial decisions. If borrowing can be justified by the need to finance development, then holding savings in a foreign currency can also be examined on its merits rather than treated as suspicious simply because the money was originally received in naira.
This brings me to the question in the title: how intelligent is Oshiomhole? Intelligence in public life should be reflected in the ability to understand facts, recognise contradictions, weigh evidence, and distinguish legitimate scrutiny from political insinuation. Oshiomhole’s years in the labour movement demonstrated courage, energy, and political resourcefulness. His subsequent years in public office should also invite scrutiny of the consistency of his arguments and the standards he applies to others. When criticism rests on questionable allegations or fails to engage seriously with the reasoning behind a financial decision, it raises legitimate questions about the quality of the argument.
Nigeria needs politicians who can rise above partisan quarrels to discuss the serious business of governance. Public money must not be spent indiscriminately merely because it is available, just as savings must not be celebrated merely because they exist. Both expenditure and saving must be judged by their legality, prudence, transparency, and benefits to the people. Obi should be scrutinised like every other public official, but the scrutiny must be intelligent and evidence-based.
Ultimately, the controversy is about more than Obi, Oshiomhole, dollars, or naira. It is about consistency, intellectual honesty, and the responsible management of public resources. A politician’s past courage may earn him admiration, but his present arguments must still withstand the test of reason.