Imagine, for a moment, that Peter Obi became President of Nigeria. And imagine that the architecture of his government looked like this: President – Igbo Chief Justice – Igbo EFCC Chairman – Igbo DSS Director-General – Igbo IGP – Igbo Attorney General – Igbo Finance Minister – Igbo Minister if State Finance – Igbo Accountant General of the Federation – Igbo Auditor General of the Federation – Igbo NNPC GMD – Igbo NAFDAC DG – Igbo Chief of Defense Staff – Igbo CBN Governor – Igbo FIRS Chairman – Igbo INEC Chairman – Igbo Comptroller-General of Immigration – Igbo NPA Managing Director – Igbo Let’s not pretend. Nigeria would be on fire.
Prime-time outrage. Emergency town halls. Sermons on “marginalisation.” Hashtags about ethnic capture. Analysts warning of “national disintegration.” Political leaders threatening constitutional crises. Even if — and this is important — every single one of those appointees were the most qualified, most competent, most incorruptible Nigerians available. The same people who today preach “merit” would suddenly rediscover “federal character.” The same voices that shout “competence over tribe” would begin to whisper “balance for stability.” The same defenders of concentration of power would become apostles of inclusion overnight.
And here is the uncomfortable truth: many of us — including people from my own region — would lose our minds. Not because the system would suddenly become unjust. But because, for once, we would not be the ones benefiting from the imbalance. That is Nigeria’s hypocrisy laid bare. We tolerate domination when it favours us. We intellectualise exclusion when it advantages our bloc. We spiritualise injustice when it serves our interests. But the moment the ethnic tables turn, we discover the Constitution. This is not about one man. It is not even about one ethnic group. It is about our collective dishonesty.
If we would scream under a hypothetical Igbo-dominated government, then we must interrogate our silence — or our applause — under any other lopsided arrangement. Justice is not justice only when it protects us. Equity is not equity only when we are excluded. Federal character is not a decorative clause in the Constitution; it is a moral test of our sincerity as a federation. Nigeria cannot survive selective outrage.
If balance matters, it must matter always. If merit matters, it must matter universally. If national unity matters, it cannot be conditional. The real question is not, “What if Obi did this?” The real question is: Are we committed to fairness — or only to advantage?
