OF SENATORS AND SPECTACLES: A NATION PERPETUALLY DISTRACTED

I must begin this essay with a disclaimer: I am not here to discuss who is right or wrong in the now-viral saga between Senate President Godswill Akpabio and Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan. There are those who are better suited than I am for the heat of partisan skirmishes. As for me, I have learned the delicate art of staying above the fray—my pastoral congregation is a tapestry woven with people of all political leanings, and wisdom dictates that I do not spill oil on a burning stove.

However, I cannot help but marvel at the curious pattern that unfolds every time serious national conversations attempt to gain traction. Like clockwork, something—someone—somehow manages to yank the national attention elsewhere. It is as if a grand magician is at work, orchestrating a well-rehearsed trick: “Look here, not there!”

The performance is always impressive. One moment, Nigerians are poised to discuss the economy—the rising cost of living, the naira’s relentless pursuit of the abyss and attempts at stability, or the biting fuel prices—and the next, we are handed a fresh script: “Akpabio vs. Natasha: Who Blinked First?” The news cycles explode with dramatic headlines, talking heads dissect every syllable, and social media armies march into battle, armed with memes and outrage. Just when we begin to question the performance of the current administration and the oversight function of the legislature in holding the administration accountable, a new scene unfolds.

But we have since outgrown the days when mere verbal spats sufficed. Oh no! We have graduated to the next level of political distraction—the grand theatre of protests with paid actors. Behold the new trend: as soon as two political figures lock horns, a flurry of demonstrations emerges overnight. Miraculously, both the antagonists and the protagonists produce well-fed, placard-wielding protest groups, each more determined than the other to be heard. Never mind that many of the protesters do not fully understand the issue at stake; some may have been recruited only a few hours earlier, briefed with nothing more than a T-shirt, a crude chant, and a transport stipend.

And so, the spectacle unfolds on national television. On one side, a group demands justice for their embattled leader, faces painted with righteous fury. On the other, a rival faction chants counter-slogans with equal gusto. And, because no grand opera is complete without an element of tragedy, the police arrive, armed with tear gas, batons, and an overzealous sense of duty. Soon, there is chaos. People scamper in different directions. Some dive into gutters, others cling to their placards in defiant heroism. Television cameras capture it all, delivering yet another installment of the never-ending drama that satiates a country’s hunger for entertainment disguised as political engagement.

And so, once again, Nigeria is consumed—not by discussions of infrastructural decay, economic strategy, governance performance or a virile legislature holding the executive truly accountable—but by a verbal duel on the Senate floor and the revelations of the antecedents, denials and counter denials. Once again, the nation chases shadows, while those in the corridors of power continue their dance of silence over the real issues that matter.

But let us not be fooled. These distractions are not accidents; they are as predictable as the harmattan haze. The tragedy is that the audience keeps falling for the same trick. As we argue over who was rude to whom, over senatorial decorum and as we pick sides in the unveiling political soap opera, the nation drifts further from the critical conversation and accountability that should constantly be demanded: Is this administration delivering on its promises?

I dare not enter into the Akpabio-Natasha fray—there are commentators who are more qualified than I am and who have more facts already doing so. But I will ask the one question that should matter to all Nigerians: After this spectacle, what next? What fresh distraction shall we be handed/ served, when we try—just try—to hold our leaders accountable?

The curtains may soon fall on this current act or the frenzy of the battle in the public space may soon dissipate, but rest assured, the next one is already being scripted. And the show must go on…!!

Ephraim Osunde, eosunde2000@yahoo.com