OPINION: Wike: Politics, Power, Obsession

Former governor of Rivers State, Nyesom Wike, is once again making headlines for all the wrong reasons. But, let’s be honest, should we really be surprised? Wike’s track record of playing politics like a street brawl isn’t exactly breaking news. What is shocking, however, is how this man, now the FCT Minister, refuses to relinquish his iron grip on Rivers State. Power, it seems, is more addictive to Wike than any substance known to man, and his latest standoff with his protégé, Governor Sim Fubara, has thrown Rivers into yet another season of political drama.

Wike’s insistence on controlling his party’s (PDP) political machinery in Rivers State has made him public enemy number one, at least in the eyes of those who hoped his exit as governor would bring a breath of fresh air. His posturing is like a retired school principal still issuing punishments to students long after leaving the school – totally absurd, but disturbingly real. Unfortunately for him, Governor Fubara, his supposed puppet, has developed a backbone (or at least the will to resist Wike’s suffocating embrace), and the godfather isn’t happy.

Like a man who can’t get over a breakup, Wike has deployed every weapon in his arsenal: federal might, hired thugs, and even corrupt judges to ensure Fubara dances to his tune. But here’s the koko: Fubara isn’t having any of it, and neither are Rivers people. The high point of this political wrestling match came last weekend after Wike lost his grip on the just concluded local government elections. In typical Wike fashion, he decided that if he couldn’t win, then nobody else should. Now, his boys are reportedly burning down local government secretariats like they’re in some gangster movie. What’s worse? His surrogates are threatening to use the presidency to declare a state of emergency in Rivers, and if that fails, they’re eyeing the courts to stop federal allocations to the local governments.

The whole situation is like watching a toddler throw tantrums because someone took away their favorite toy. But this isn’t child’s play; this is the fate of millions of Rivers people at stake.

Wike didn’t arrive at this infamous status overnight. No, he’s been sharpening his teeth on the bones of political benefactors long before now. His journey into politics has been one of betrayal, backstabbing, and sheer desperation to stay on top. Let’s take a trip down memory lane, shall we? Wike came into political limelight under the wings of Dr. Peter Odili, the former governor of Rivers State. Odili, in all his wisdom, thought Wike was just the right lad to trust. Little did he know that he was nurturing a monster. Once Wike got his foot in the door, at the slightest opportunity he rebelled against Odili and ensured that he was sidelined in the power structure. After all, why play second fiddle when you can grab the baton and run the show yourself?

Next on the list was Celestine Omehia. Wike was one of those who egged on Omehia to the governorship seat, but when their relationship hit troubled waters, he went to the extent of using the State Assembly to enact a law that de-recognized Omehia as a former governor of the Rivers state. Next was Rotimi Amaechi, after battling the powers that be to reclaim his stolen mandate, thought Wike was a worthy ally. They were thick as thieves, until Wike’s ambitions began to bubble up to the surface. Amaechi too would eventually learn that Wike had only been biding his time to make his own move. And so, the rift between them grew, with Wike eventually taking over as governor, practical ran Amaechi out of town, leaving him in his rearview mirror like so many others before him.

During the 2023 presidential election, while Wike pretended to be loyal to PDP, he worked assiduously for the APC. Everyone could see the deceit dripping from his words and actions. Wike  reportedly orchestrated the ignorable rigging of votes against Peter Obi of Labour party in Rivers State, ensuring a narrative where the election results appeared… shall we say, “miraculous?” By the end of the day, many felt that Obi’s loss in Rivers was less of a political defeat and more of a calculated heist orchestrated by Wike, the man who would rather burn the house down than share a room. Though INEC has since shamefully reversed itself on the heist Wike did in Rivers and announced Obi to be the rightful winner of Rivers, too late, too little.

Wike’s history shows that the man has a PhD in betrayal. Every political benefactor, every ally, anyone who stood by him at one point or another, has been pushed under the bus the moment they no longer served his purpose. His entire career has been one long reel of treachery, intimidation, and thuggery. If there were a political version of “Game of Thrones,” Wike would be sitting comfortably on the Iron Throne, sipping palm wine with a smirk on his face.

But here’s the thing about men like Wike: they never know when to stop. Every successive governor in Rivers has tried to use the state’s funds as a launchpad for a presidential ambition. Odili tried it, Amaechi gave it a shot, and Wike’s no different. There’s something about sitting in the Brick House in Port Harcourt that seems to inflate egos and breed delusions of grandeur. Each of these men thought they could translate Rivers wealth into national power, but none have succeeded. Yet, Wike appears convinced that he can buck the trend, and perhaps, in his delusional mind, he believes Rivers will be his eternal kingdom from which he can lord over all.

What’s truly alarming about Wike’s brand of politics is how reckless he is. His statements are often as loud and brash as his actions, and it’s clear that he revels in controversy. Wike doesn’t just speak; he bellows, blustering through interviews and public speeches like a man constantly on the verge of exploding. He’s thrown insults at just about everyone, from sitting governors to traditional rulers and even clergy members. His tongue is as sharp as his methods are crude. It’s almost like he enjoys the chaos he creates, basking in the madness like a general who thrives on the battlefield even when his own troops are in disarray.

It was Wike, after all, who openly declared that elections in Nigeria are not won by votes but by force—a statement so brazen it would’ve been laughable if it weren’t so dangerous. This is the same man who, with all seriousness, threatened to “put fire” in any state that he perceives their governor to be “interfering” in Rivers matter. His list of reckless utterances is almost as long as the list of his political enemies. But that’s just Wike, right? Always ready with a soundbite, always eager to rile up the masses with his rhetoric. If words were bullets, Wike would have an armory bigger than most countries.

But what does this mean for Rivers State, a region already grappling with its fair share of challenges? Wike’s tyrannical grip is a stark reminder of what happens when political power is concentrated in the hands of one man for too long. (He has been a local government Chairman, Chief of State to the governor, Minister of State, Governor and a substantive Federal Minister). It breeds dictators like Wike who believe they are untouchable, who think they can bend the law, twist the truth, and bulldoze through any obstacle. And let’s not dull ourselves, this isn’t just about Rivers. Wike’s tactics, if left unchecked, set a dangerous precedent for other states, for other politicians who see his brand of “strongman politics” as the way forward.

But for now, Rivers people are left to pick up the pieces of the political war being waged in their state. The local government elections, which should have been an exercise in democracy, turned into yet another power struggle, with Wike’s thugs reportedly wreaking havoc in a desperate attempt to regain control. His threats of using federal might and corrupt judges to starve local governments of funds only expose his desperation.

In the end, Wike’s refusal to let go is a cautionary tale of what happens when power becomes an obsession, when the lines between governance and gangsterism blur beyond recognition. Rivers State has become Wike’s personal playground, and the people are paying the price. But as history has shown, no one can hold onto power forever. Wike, for all his bluster and bravado, will eventually learn that lesson, though at what cost remains to be seen.

As Rivers burns, Wike fiddles, but the flames of tyranny will never burn bright enough to outshine the will of a determined people.

Mr Ozogwu is a public affairs commentator

Disclaimer: This article is entirely the opinion of the writer and does not represent the views of The Whistler.