On this Democracy Day, I had intended to rest my pen. I wanted to leave the fate written on the walls of history to speak for itself. I thought perhaps the sacrifices of those who fought for democracy were enough testimony. Yet, in the final hour, a thought stirred within me, compelling me to write a message to all of us who have come together to form this sovereign nation called Nigeria. My message is particularly for those who believe that the business of Nigeria lies in the hands of a powerful few. Perhaps they are influenced by what the German sociologist Robert Michels described as the "Iron Law of Oligarchy" ,the tendency for power to concentrate in the hands of a small elite. Looking at our politics, our institutions, and our economy, one may be tempted to believe that the destiny of Nigeria is determined only by those who occupy powerful offices and influential positions. But history tells a different story. Nigeria does not belong to any president, governor, politi...
....we’re not your campaign slogan
Once upon a glorious, chaotic 2017, practically every able-bodied youth in Esa-Oke held honorary title in the land: Personal Assistant to Barrister Pelumi Olajengbesi. No interviews. No pay. Just passion, blind loyalty, and the stamina to chase him from one campaign ground to the next like a political body double.
From Comrade Mainframe to Comrade Swiss, from Yinka Oba to the humble football boys who carried cones like national flags, we were there. We were the movement. Until, of course.
Now in 2025, Barrister Pelumi, clearly inspired by a Netflix political drama is on a media tour telling anyone who’ll listen that he "settled everyone who worked for him." Settled who, please? Maybe in his dreams or in the metaverse.
In the real world, the story’s a bit different. Those of us from Obokun, who hustled day and night, got exactly zero: no thank you, no handshake.
Take Sami, now a former Ward 7 councillor, no thanks from Pelumi. Folusho? Aregbesola Adewumi? All left in the political friendzone. Forgotten like those dusty football jerseys.
Sure, Pelumi wants a medal for sending a few Oriade boys abroad. Congrats to them, we sincerely celebrate their success. But let’s not rewrite history. Most of us have also crossed oceans. We’ve changed time zones, filed taxes in new continents, and grown full adult facial hair. What we haven’t done is cling to old glory or lie for likes.
As for Comrade Mainframe, he’s become untraceable. He’s blocked every corridor of access. These days, if you're asking for his number out of nowhere, it's a red flag, you’re likely working for Team Pelumi 2.0. Even old friends now moonlighting as political apprentices to Pelumi can’t get through. And they shouldn’t bother.
In his words: “Once betrayed, you no longer qualify for the knock on my door.” That’s not just a quote. That’s a whole ideology.
Let’s be crystal clear: we want nothing from Pelumi. No recharge cards. No “empowerment” rice. No shout-outs on Facebook. No fake reconciliation dinners. All we ask is: stop peddling lies to curry political favor. If you're running for office, run clean, not on the backs of those you left behind.
We genuinely wish Pelumi luck in his ambitions. But please, for the love of all campaign posters, choose a better slogan. One that doesn’t include ghost names from 2017.
From ab initio, the goal of our original movement anchored by Comrade Mainframe was simple: produce leadership with integrity. Unfortunately, what we’ve witnessed since then is a masterclass in the opposite. So to today’s dreamers: if you want to work with Pelumi, please go ahead.
So yes, we remember 2017. And no, Barrister, we weren’t settled.
And in case it’s not clear enough: we don’t want anything from you. Just stop using our names to campaign. Respectfully.
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