Esther Okoronkwo & Tinubu: A Lion at the Podium, a Lamb in the Lounge (Depending on the Camera Angle)

 

...What if we are wrong about who people are, just as they are often wrong about us?

In a country where leadership is often defined more by reputation than reality, Super Falcons forward Esther Okoronkwo's recent encounter with President Bola Ahmed Tinubu offers more than just a feel-good moment, it offers a rare lens into the paradox of power and perception in Nigeria.

After the Super Falcons were hosted at the Aso Rock Presidential Villa in Abuja, Okoronkwo shared her thoughts with unfiltered sincerity:

 “I was honestly surprised by the way the President welcomed, honoured, and celebrated us. As an Igbo woman, and considering the narratives that followed the 2023 elections, I had a certain perception of him… But after meeting him… he’s nothing like what people say.”

The Lion and the Lamb: A Familiar Duality

In Nigeria, our leaders are often seen as lions in public: roaring on podiums, unyielding during interviews, indifferent to cries from the streets. But behind closed doors, or when the cameras are kind, they often appear as lambs: smiling, gracious, even warm-hearted.

This duality is not new. In fact, it's almost expected. The same governor who cancels salaries can quote Psalms at a thanksgiving service. The same senator accused of corruption might pay school fees for hundreds of children. The line between performer and person is blurred by the peculiar nature of Nigerian politics, where power wears many masks, and image management is a craft of its own.

But what makes Okoronkwo’s story compelling is not that she met a different man than she expected, it’s that her perception, like that of many Nigerians, was shaped by secondhand emotion and national narrative, not personal interaction.

The Politics of Perception

Perception in Nigeria isn’t just opinion; it’s almost a civic instinct.

We don’t just see politicians, we read them like omens. Every gesture, every silence, every visit (or absence) during tragedy is used to decode intent. And often, rightly so: power in Nigeria has a history of betrayal.

The 2023 elections deepened those fractures. Ethnicity, religion, and economic hardship converged to produce a fog of mistrust. For many from the South-East, President Tinubu’s emergence represented more than a political shift; it echoed historic wounds and fresh fears of marginalization.

Against this backdrop, Esther Okoronkwo’s admission becomes more than a casual remark. It becomes a quiet question to the nation: What if we are wrong about who people are, just as they are often wrong about us?

The Burden of Leadership in a Distrusting Nation

To lead Nigeria is to inherit not just office, but centuries of suspicion. The presidency isn’t a chair, it’s a stage where every smile is suspect, every silence politicized, every action judged against an invisible ledger of past sins.

In that environment, even good intentions become doubted motives. And for citizens, especially those historically sidelined or silenced, skepticism becomes a form of protection.

Yet this very atmosphere also creates distance. We rarely meet the human side of power, only the headlines, the policies, the motorcades. When we do, as Okoronkwo did, the surprise feels almost disorienting.

The Need for Authentic Encounters

What Nigeria needs now is more authentic moments, not orchestrated spectacles, but real engagements where leaders shed their rehearsed lines and citizens drop their defensiveness. Not every encounter will shift opinion, nor should it. But humanizing governance must begin with visibility, presence, and sincerity.

If a footballer’s honest account can soften hardened views, imagine what consistent proximity and transparent leadership might do.

Imagine a country where young people don’t only know their leaders through scandals and memes, but through policies that touch them and conversations that include them.

Final Reflections: The Two Faces Are Still One

A lion in public, a lamb in private, perhaps both are true. And perhaps therein lies the problem: Nigeria is governed not by monsters or angels, but by human beings, complex and fallible.

But the real test of leadership isn’t how kind you are in private, it’s how just you are in public.

Okoronkwo met the man. The rest of us still live with the system. Until both images align, the face behind the camera and the one before it, the Nigerian story will remain one of contrasts, not cohesion.

But maybe, just maybe, stories like hers crack the surface and let in a little light.

Abioye Tosin Lawrence is the publisher of Oriontimes Online Newspaper, a platform committed to truth, clarity, and the voices that shape Nigeria’s democratic landscape. He is also the author of the forthcoming memoir, Voices from the Fire: My Journey Through a Hollow Empire, a deeply reflective work chronicling his personal odyssey through loss, resilience, and the complex realities of life in modern Nigeria.