While Nigerians are still scratching their heads over why the Federal Government suddenly woke up and killed the 3-month “terminal leave” with the kind of speed and proactiveness we rarely see, a clue has landed that feels less like coincidence and more like choreography. Official reasons will always be given, and this one sounds clean on paper, but experience has taught us to read government moves twice: once for what they say, and once for who benefits. Because in Nigeria, leaders rarely get interested in even the most serious issues unless pressure, optics, or politics pushes them to remember.
On June 1, 2026, a circular signed by the Head of the Civil Service of the Federation, Didi Walson-Jack, landed on the desks of all MDAs. Titled, “Correct Interpretation of Public Service Rule 120243 on Pre-Retirement Activities,” it did one thing and did it bluntly: it abolished the long-standing practice of sending civil servants home on mandatory 3-month pre-retirement leave. For years, MDAs had treated the 3-month notice period as an automatic exit, so once you submitted your papers you vanished, leaving your desk warm and your files cold. Walson-Jack said what the rule actually meant. The 3 months are for notice, not leave. In that window an officer must attend a 1-month pre-retirement workshop, use the next 2 months to reconcile service records and pension documents, and most importantly, remain at work. The whole point, she argued, was to stop the premature withdrawal of experienced officers that had been quietly bleeding manpower across government.
That sounds like housekeeping. But housekeeping rarely happens this fast unless something is burning. Public administration scholars have a term for it. Max Weber called it “bureaucratic rationalization,” the moment when informal custom is forced back into formal rules. Peter Senge, writing on organizational learning, warned about “tacit knowledge loss”, the quiet crisis that happens when people who know how things really work walk out before they transfer it. In the Nigerian civil service, that loss has been happening every quarter, three months at a time.
Research by the African Development Bank and by local governance think tanks has repeatedly shown that institutional memory is one of government’s scarcest resources, and that when senior officers exit early, projects stall, errors multiply, and new staff spend years reinventing what someone else already knew. So on paper, the reform makes sense. Keep people to the last day. Capture the knowledge. Protect continuity.
Then the optics walked in. On August 19, 2026, State House announced that President Bola Ahmed Tinubu had appointed Mr Abel Olumuyiwa Enitan as the new Head of the Civil Service of the Federation, effective August 27, 2026. He succeeds Didi Walson-Jack, who will retire upon attaining 60. The statement described Enitan as the most senior Permanent Secretary, with seven years and seven months at that rank, and a career that has cut across Police Affairs, Humanitarian Affairs, the Office of the Vice President, and currently Education.
He was born December 12, 1966. Do the math and you see why the internet started whispering. If he retires at 60, that is December 12, 2026. About four months in office. The very man who will enforce a “no terminal leave” policy is himself the immediate beneficiary of it. He will not get to go home early. He will have to work until his last day.
That timing is what has set tongues wagging. In politics, this is what political scientists call “self-referential policy,” when a rule change and a personnel change lock into each other. It does not mean the policy is wrong. It means the policy looks personal. And when you add the geography, the suspicion deepens. As it stands, the President, the Head of Civil Service (HOSF), the Chairman of the Federal Civil Service Commission (FCSC), and the Chairman of the Federal Character Commission (FCC) all trace to the South West. Prof. Tunji Olaopa of the FCSC is from Oyo, appointed in November 2023. Hon. Ayo Hulayat Omidiran of the FCC is from Osun.Two of the most sensitive gatekeepers of appointments and equity now sit in the same region.
The presidency tried to douse it with the language of merit and seniority. The statement called Enitan “the most senior Permanent Secretary” and therefore the rightful choice. That is where the contradiction bites, because Walson-Jack herself was not the most senior when she was appointed, and the justification then was a mix of federal character and reform credentials. So when seniority is invoked now, after it was set aside before, it reads like selective fairness. Political scientist Larry Diamond has written extensively on “perceived legitimacy” in multi-ethnic states. It is not enough for an appointment to be legal. It must also look fair. Once it looks like a region is holding the pen, the rulebook, and the watchman’s whistle at the same time, even good policy gets read as strategy.
And yet, there is another side to this conversation that cannot be ignored. Critics of the Tinubu administration are accused, fairly or not, of double standards. The same voices that defended or explained away similar lopsided appointments in the past are now the loudest. The fuel subsidy removal, which many once called economic sabotage, was quietly set in motion under the previous administration, leaving little room for a honeymoon. Former President Jonathan did not do that to Buhari. Buhari’s team did it to Tinubu. So the argument goes: judge the policy, not just the face behind it.
But perception is its own policy instrument. When the man who signs the abolition of terminal leave will himself be saved by it, when the top of the civil service and its two watchdogs tilt to one region, the administration becomes vulnerable to the charge it has worked hard to avoid: ethnic bias. Whether true or not, optics have consequences.
So what do we call this moment? It is not just about terminal leave. It is about trust. It is about whether reform can survive the suspicion that it was tailored. The bottom line remains unchanged: no more “go home three months early.” Give notice, attend the seminar, process your papers, and work until the last day. That is good governance. But in a country where history is read through tribe, region, and who is at the table, good governance must also look like good governance.
Only time will tell if Enitan walks out on December 12 as scheduled, or if the presidency, which critics already accuse of tenure elongation for its own, finds another reason to bend the calendar. Until then, the circular stands, the appointment stands, and Nigerians will keep reading between the lines.
Bagudu Mohammed is the Founder, Alternative Perspectives.
Web: https://alternativeperspective.onrender.com
Email: bagudumohammed15197@gmail.com | Phone: 0703 494 3575
