There are birthday messages that celebrate age, and there are those that inadvertently expose a standard by which public service ought to be measured. Peter Obi’s message to his elder brother, Dominic Ositadimma Obi, who turned 75 on Sunday, belongs to the latter category.
At first glance, it was simply a younger brother celebrating an elder sibling. But beneath the warm words of gratitude, prayers and admiration lies a powerful message for Nigerian families whose members find themselves occupying political offices: “public office is not a family inheritance.”
Obi’s account of his eight years as governor of Anambra State provides a striking example. According to him, Dominic never visited his office or the Governor’s Lodge to seek favours. More remarkably, the elder brother, despite being a planner and contractor who builds houses for people, never asked his younger brother for a government contract throughout his tenure. That is not a small detail.
In Nigeria, where political power can sometimes become a magnet for relatives, friends, schoolmates, business associates and political loyalists, a governor’s office can quickly begin to resemble a family enterprise. Once one person enters government, relatives may start behaving as though they have also received an appointment.
Some seek contracts. Others seek jobs. Some request appointments for their children. Others want access to government officials, influence over procurement, preferential treatment or simply the privilege of making telephone calls that ordinary citizens cannot make. And when such requests are resisted, the public office holder can even be accused of being stingy or selfish.
Dominic Obi appears to have understood something many people around power fail to understand: “having a brother, sister, spouse, child or parent in government does not make one a beneficiary of the public treasury.”
Indeed, Obi’s revelation that his family held a meeting and resolved that none of them would take advantage of his position as governor makes the story even more remarkable. That family decision deserves attention.
Political office holders should not merely have personal integrity; they should have families that understand the boundaries of public office. It is difficult for a politician to resist inappropriate
requests from relatives when those relatives themselves believe that the politician’s office is their personal opportunity. This is where Dominic’s example becomes instructive. He did not reportedly tell his younger brother, “Now that you are governor, remember your family.” Instead, he reportedly reminded him to remember the people who gave him the mandate. That distinction is profound.
While some relatives of political office holders may be asking, “What can we get?”, Dominic was apparently asking, in effect, “What are you doing for the people?” That is precisely the kind of family pressure Nigeria needs around public officials. This is as the family of a politician should be the first line of defence against corruption, not its launching pad.
If a governor’s brother is demanding contracts, the family should discourage him. If a minister’s spouse is demanding preferential treatment, the family should question it. If a senator’s child is using the parent’s position to intimidate government officials, the family should intervene. If a political appointee’s relatives begin presenting themselves as unofficial gatekeepers to government, those closest to the appointee should be the first to call them to order. Unfortunately, the opposite is often the case.
Political families can become miniature power blocs, with relatives enjoying access and influence far beyond what their individual credentials justify. In some circumstances, the political office becomes a family ATM, with every relative arriving with one request or another.
The consequence is that public resources are gradually converted into private benefits. This is how patronage flourishes. It is also how citizens lose faith in government.
A young Nigerian who has spent years looking for employment but cannot secure a job may understandably become cynical when he sees the relative of a politician receiving an appointment simply because of family connection.
A competent contractor who loses a government project to someone with political connections is unlikely to be persuaded that merit matters. A business owner denied access to a public opportunity because someone related to a politician has already taken it will hardly believe that government belongs to everybody. This is why the Dominic Obi example should not be treated merely as a birthday anecdote. It is a reminder that “the integrity of a public office holder is sometimes tested not in the office, but at home.”
A politician may personally refuse to steal from the public purse but still allow relatives to exploit his influence. That, too, damages public trust. The people around political office holders therefore have a responsibility to understand that their relative’s mandate is not their inheritance.
A governor is not governor of his family. A minister is not minister of his siblings. A senator does not represent his household. A president does not occupy Aso Rock for his extended family. Political office is held in trust for the public.
And perhaps this is the most important lesson contained in Obi’s tribute: families should be proud not because one of their own has become powerful, but because that person can exercise power without allowing the family to profit improperly from it.
There is nothing wrong with relatives benefiting from legitimate opportunities. There is nothing wrong with a competent family member competing for a government contract through a transparent process. There is nothing wrong with a relative seeking employment where merit and due process apply. The problem begins when the family relationship becomes the qualification. That is the line Nigerian families must learn to respect.
As Dominic Obi celebrates 75, his most valuable birthday gift may therefore be the example his conduct offers to other families. To every sibling, spouse, parent, child or close relative of a political office holder, the message should be simple: “Your relative’s political office is not your family entitlement.” Do not ask what the government can do for your family. Instead, encourage your relative to ask what the government can do for the people. That is how families can protect the integrity of those entrusted with public power. And, ultimately, that is how they can protect their own names. Because when a politician leaves office, the position disappears. The family name remains.
