Akpoti-Uduaghan and the ‘Natashalisation’ of Kogi politics

BY KINGSLEY OBOM-EGBULEM

The political environment in Kogi is dark, brutish, and comical. In exchange for governance, the people of our beloved Confluence State have been served tons of drama, an overdose of inanity and asininity, thus deserving its position as one of the worst governed states in Nigeria. With rigging and brigandage as part of the game, Kogi’s politics is not a turf for men without balls, let alone women.

That is where Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan chose to play. And she hasn’t done badly given the hurdles she’s had to scale.

Her first hurdle was even before she decided to run for political office. That was in March 2018, when at 36, she submitted to the House of Assembly an investigative report that revealed massive corruption at the Ajaokuta Steel Mill. By the way, corruption in Ajaokuta Steel Mill is like malaria and typhoid in Nigeria. But Natasha’s report disclosed details of wasteful spending, outright stealing of funds, and embezzlement since the construction of the steel mill in 1979.

She got cold shoulders for that attempt. Her claims were not investigated. Rather, she was criticised and accused of misinformation and acting as a stooge of foreign interests who probably sponsored the report. That was when she made up her mind to get involved in politics. That way she can use her power to bring about the change she wants to see. So, she thought.

And she didn’t start small. She wanted to be the governor of Kogi state the following year—2019. What audacity!

She met another hurdle; she was barred from participating in the election because of her marital status. The Kogi State Independent Electoral Commission (KSIEC) had disqualified her, citing a law that required female gubernatorial candidates to be married. Natasha, who was unmarried at the time, challenged the disqualification in court, arguing that the law was unconstitutional and violated her rights as a woman and citizen of Nigeria. The court ruled in her favour, and she was allowed to contest the election.

With that hurdle scaled, her adversaries thought it was time to take off their gloves. She was attacked in what she described as an assassination attempt, where her convoy came under gunfire after being ambushed by gunmen.

Though she lost that election to Yahaya Bello, she fought a good fight that announced to Kogites that this woman was built differently.

For those just getting to know Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan after she called out the senate president, Godswill Akpabio, now you can tell that the former Akwa Ibom state governor may be playing with a pit bull. Even the election that got her into the senate was a fierce battle. The Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) had declared Abubakar Sadiku-Ohere of the All Progressives Congress (APC) winner of the Kogi Central senatorial election without results from nine polling units in Ajaokuta, Local Government Area. Natasha went to the election tribunal and argued that she would have won the election if INEC had imputed the omitted results. When those results were added to the overall results, Natasha won the majority of votes cast at the poll—54,074 votes as against 51,291 for the APC candidate.

Sadiku-Ohere appealed against the ruling of the tribunal. But the court of appeal, led by Justice Hamma Barka, upheld the ruling of the tribunal and declared Natasha the winner of the election.

There is a difference between running for the senate (or any political office for that matter) when your husband is a political godfather and running as an “unknown” woman against a formidable opponent that’s backed by godfathers and enough resources to manipulate results—including court rulings. That’s like looking at Medusa in the eye and hoping to be alive.

“Yahaya Bello destroys major roads leading to Natasha Akpoti’s community on election eve.” That was one of the headlines during the 2023 senatorial election.

“Kogi bans rallies as Natasha, supporters plan homecoming.”

These are samples of what Natasha has endured since 2018. And with every victory, she gets toughened, exposing her opponents as paper tigers who manipulate the people for political gains.

The people of Kogi deserve to see the end of this ugly political dispensation. They need some fresh wind capable of Natashalising the state. Though coming out of Kogi Central, could it be heavy enough to envelop the entire state and redefine its politics?

Natashalisation is the personification of sensible politics that is devoid of manipulation, brute force, violence, and mayhem. It is the feminisation of politics that reflects beauty, tenderness, intellectual sophistication, and tact.

Natashalisation is a locally relevant neologism for governance—a more suitable replacement for political renaissance. It is a word that should remind us of the re-emergence and development of political thoughts and institutions that question established norms, leading to new ideas about governance and society. It is a word that reflects the will and love of a people for a politician they truly admire and have chosen to represent them, provide leadership, and show them what governance looks like.

Natashalisation is also defiance, courage, audacity, and the triumph of smart thinking over brute force; the trouncing of a group of low-intelligent Nigerian politicians and their co-conspirators in our law enforcement agencies by a young beautiful woman who is light years ahead of them. Indeed, Natashalisation means to slay in politics as Natasha Akpoti-Uduagah becomes the new slay queen.

Redefining politics of representation in less than two years of being in the Senate is no mean feat. After all, the same Kogi state had a senator who is now a jester and content creator on social media, possessing a lack of capacity to be ashamed—a weakness he flaunts as audacity.

But Natasha has raised the bar—sound, decent, courteous, focused, and hardworking.

To be fair, every state in Nigeria has its share of political anomalies and absurdities. From Rivers to Edo, Anambra to Kaduna, and Imo to Kano, politics in Nigeria has remained majorly parochial. It is defined by ethnic and religious sentiments with the main goal of every player being the seizure of state power and the consolidation of power and then using it for personal gains and enrichment of families, friends, and cronies. Politicians use power to dominate and suppress the same people who voted for them and harass and silence opposition and other voices demanding governance.

This is how we roll, politically. And lately, Kogi state has supplied us with enough content for a box office thriller in this regard. And like in most thrillers, there are the bad guys, the good guys, and other characters.

These are the forces that Natasha is trying to “liberate” the people of Kogi state from, literally. She’s been beaten and bruised, but not broken. Lacking in the use of brute force and violence, she’s got something her opponents are wishing they had: love from the people, a heart for governance, and a mind that thinks strategically.

On Tuesday, April 1, 2025, we got a taste of this love, this thinking, when she again beat them at their game.

Why would any smart leader choose to ban public gatherings and then block all the roads leading into the state because of one woman—a senator who is visiting her hometown to celebrate with Muslims in her constituency? Despite these hurdles, Natasha made a triumphant entry, flying right into her hometown in a chopper, appearing more dignified and formidable than before, while her adversaries looked weak and beaten.

Already, Natashalisation looks like a pathway to becoming the first female governor of Kogi state and indeed Nigeria. Is it about time?

Kingsley Obom-Egbulem is an author, communication specialist and trainer. He can be contacted via [email protected]