Dear Seyi Tinubu, step into the real Nigeria

BY SAMUEL JEKELI

Dear Seyi Tinubu, a recent video of you passionately praising your father’s government in one of the northern states has made rounds on social media. You painted a picture of progress, prosperity, and national well-being—an image so rosy that many Nigerians could barely recognize the country you described. While it is understandable that you, as the president’s son, would want to uphold the administration’s image, it is crucial that you take a step back and see things as they truly are, not as they appear from the comfort of privilege.

Nigeria is at a crossroads. The cost of living has skyrocketed, inflation is squeezing the life out of ordinary citizens, and unemployment is at an all-time high. Hunger, insecurity, and hardship are the everyday realities of many. Yet, from the tone of your speech, it seemed as though all was well. But let me extend to you a challenge—one that will enable you to see Nigeria through the eyes of the people who bear the brunt of your father’s policies.

I suggest you step out of the bubble of privilege and experience Nigeria firsthand—not as the president’s son, but as an ordinary citizen. Disguise yourself. Not in the typical fashion of wearing a cap and sunglasses while surrounded by security details. That would not suffice. Instead, use a masked, cloned face—one so human and lifelike that even those closest to you wouldn’t recognise you. Go alone, without convoys, without cameras, without the ever-present crowd that sings praises out of fear or favour.

Venture into the creeks of Lagos, the slums of Abuja, the struggling communities in Kano, and the forgotten villages in the Niger Delta. See the families that sleep on empty stomachs. Walk through the hospitals where people die because they cannot afford medication. Visit the classrooms where students learn under leaking roofs, with teachers who have not been paid for months. Observe the market women whose profits have been swallowed by inflation. Feel the desperation of the job seekers who send out hundreds of applications with no response.

You must walk the path of the common man to understand the weight of your words. It is easy to see Nigeria through a different lens when you have access to everything. But true leadership and responsibility come from understanding the struggles of the people, not just hearing about them in reports or speeches crafted by aides.

Beyond seeing the suffering firsthand, I urge you to take hold of the federal and state budgets—dig deep into the allocations meant for the people. Secretly make it your mission to investigate where these funds are going and whether they are reaching the intended beneficiaries. Follow the money trail from paper to reality. Are the funds meant for hospitals, schools, and public infrastructure being used as intended? Or are they vanishing into the pockets of those who claim to serve the people?

If you truly want to understand the impact of governance, track these allocations without fanfare, without letting anyone know of your mission. Hold those responsible accountable, not through press conferences but through silent, impactful action. Let this be your true service to the nation—ensuring that resources meant for the people actually reach them.

If you accept this challenge, you will return with a new perspective—one that sees beyond scripted praises and choreographed applause. You will understand that this is not a time for self-congratulation but a time for action. You will see that Nigeria needs urgent intervention, not just political rhetoric.

Seyi, I am not asking you to abandon your support for your father. I am asking you to experience the reality of his leadership through the eyes of those who suffer the most. Only then will your words carry the weight of truth and not just the sound of privilege.

The Nigeria you praised so highly in that video is a Nigeria that many do not recognize. If you truly want to serve the people and defend your father’s government, first, you must understand what the people are going through. And there is only one way to do that—step into their world, unseen, and unshielded.

The challenge is before you. Will you take it?

Samuel Jekeli writes from Centre for Social Justice, Abuja. He can be contacted via [email protected]