How does a man repeatedly branded “stingy” leave behind a trail of multimillion-naira donations to hospitals, nursing schools, universities, humanitarian organisations, churches and community institutions across Nigeria? How does someone immortalised in Nigeria’s political folklore by the phrase “I no dey give shishi” emerge as one of the country’s most consistently documented private supporters of healthcare and education? It is a paradox that challenges conventional political narratives.
Few expressions have followed former Anambra State Governor and presidential candidate of the Nigeria Democratic Congress (NDC) in the forthcoming 2027 general elections His Excellency, Mr. Peter Obi, as persistently as the streetwise phrase, “I no dey give shishi.” Repeated by critics as evidence of stinginess but embraced by supporters as a metaphor for fiscal discipline, the slogan has gradually left its original context to become a widely accepted public perception that Obi simply does not give out money.
However, perception is not always reality. More often than not, the most compelling response to a political narrative is neither rhetoric nor counter propaganda, but evidence. When that evidence is assembled from beneficiary institutions, public acknowledgements, verified media reports and independent fact checks, it reveals a story that is both surprising and worthy of a broader national conversation.
Nigeria’s healthcare system survives largely because of extraordinary acts of generosity. Hospitals are not merely buildings; they are places where life and death converge every day. Mission hospitals continue to serve communities where public healthcare infrastructure remains inadequate. Nursing schools struggle with obsolete equipment, while rural health centres operate under severe financial constraints, treating thousands of patients with limited resources.
It is against this backdrop that Peter Obi’s philanthropy deserves attention; not because politicians have never donated to hospitals, schools or charities, but because of the remarkable consistency with which healthcare and education feature in his publicly documented interventions.
Throughout 2024 and 2025, beneficiaries included Nursling schools, missionary hospitals, teaching hospitals and primary healthcare centres. Some of the recent donations reported in the media included the Immaculate Heart of Mary Specialist Hospital, Nkpor, Annunciation Specialist Hospital, Our Lady of Lourdes Hospital, St. Charles Borromeo Specialist Hospital, Good Hope Specialist Hospital, the Community Health Centre, Amafor, Anglican School of Nursing Sciences, College of Nursing Sciences, Amichi, St. Gerald’s Hospital, Kaduna; and several other health institutions across the country.
Healthcare, however, tells only part of the story. The second pillar of Obi’s documented philanthropy is education. Universities, nursing schools, science colleges and secondary schools across the country have benefitted from Obi’s financial interventions. Several universities, including the University of the Niger, Paul University, Shanahan University, schools of nursing across several states, and other educational institutions all featured in publicly reported records of financial support.
Public reports indicate that donations linked to Peter Obi to schools, hospitals and charitable organisations in 2024 amounted to approximately ₦677 million, while healthcare-related interventions publicly reported in 2025 were estimated at ₦330 million. Although some projects combined Obi’s personal contributions with funds mobilised from associates, the beneficiaries were neither confined to one political constituency nor restricted to a single ethnic, religious or regional bloc.
Political philanthropy in Nigeria often mirrors electoral geography. Donations frequently remain concentrated within familiar political strongholds. Obi’s documented interventions present a broader pattern.
Across the South-East, universities, mission hospitals, nursing schools and community health centres repeatedly received support. In the North-West, institutions including St. Gerald’s Hospital and educational facilities in Kaduna benefited from his interventions. In the North-Central, Grimard College of Nursing Sciences in Kogi State was a beneficiary, while in the South-South, St. Philomena College of Nursing in Benin City also received support.
Educational institutions serving Muslim communities, including Almajiri schools and the Federation of Muslim Women’s Associations in Kaduna, also featured among publicly reported beneficiaries in 2024. Independent fact checks found these interventions consistent with public acknowledgement and media reports.
Even in July 2026, Obi marked his 65th birthday not with an elaborate celebration but with donations of ₦10 million to St. Raphael’s Hospital in Umueri, Anambra State, and another ₦10 million to the Catholic Diocese of Ogoja, Cross River State, describing birthdays as occasions for service rather than self-indulgence.
The picture that emerges is neither perfectly national nor narrowly sectional. Rather, it reflects a philanthropic approach driven more by institutional need than electoral arithmetic. More importantly, it underscores a consistent philosophy: that investments in healthcare and education remain among the most enduring investments any society can make.
There are different approaches to political philanthropy. One prioritises direct financial gifts to individuals. Such gestures often generate immediate gratitude and even greater publicity. Nigeria has perfected this theatre of generosity: truckloads of food items arrive with television cameras, empowerment programmes begin with political convoys, and relief materials are frequently branded more prominently with politicians’ images than with the names of the beneficiaries.
Another approach focuses on institutions: schools, hospitals, research centres and organisations that continue to serve the society long after the cameras have departed. Peter Obi’s documented pattern of giving appears more closely aligned with this second tradition.
Rather than emphasizing temporary handouts, his interventions have largely targeted nursing education, hospital infrastructure, healthcare delivery and academic development. Whether one considers this model superior is ultimately a matter of opinion. What is observable, however, is that investments in institutions tend to create longer-lasting public value than episodic displays of generosity.
A nursing school educates healthcare professionals for generations. A hospital upgraded today continues to treat patients long after election posters have faded. A university strengthened today will produce tomorrow’s scientists, judges, entrepreneurs, medical professionals and public servants that impact the society positively. Institutions possess memory. They preserve impact beyond the lifespan of political careers.
History offers notable examples of leaders who understood that enduring influence is measured less by personal popularity than by the strength of institutions they helped sustain. Nelson Mandela consistently championed democratic institutions capable of outliving individual leaders. Lee Kuan Yew focused relentlessly on building efficient public institutions that became the foundation of Singapore’s transformation. Outside politics, industrialist Andrew Carnegie devoted much of his fortune to libraries, universities and educational foundations because he believed institutions create opportunities that charity alone cannot sustain.
These comparisons are not intended to equate Obi with those historical figures whose contexts and achievements differ significantly. Rather, they highlight a shared leadership philosophy: that investing in enduring institutions often produces benefits that extend far beyond immediate political or personal gain.
Political branding is frequently more enduring than political reality. A slogan repeated often enough can overshadow years of documented conduct. “I no dey give shishi” has become one of Nigeria’s most recognisable political catchphrases.
But when placed alongside publicly documented support for hospitals, nursing schools, universities, humanitarian organisations and educational institutions by His Excellency, Mr. Peter Obi, the slogan begins to appear less like a complete description and more like an incomplete narrative.
History is seldom written by slogans; it is written by evidence. This article is not an appeal for political support for Peter Obi, nor does it suggest that philanthropy alone qualifies anyone for public office. Leadership ultimately requires vision, competence, integrity, accountability and measurable performance in governance.
Nevertheless, with the documented sustained support for hospitals, nursing schools, universities and humanitarian institutions across different parts of Nigeria, it becomes increasingly difficult to reconcile those actions with the enduring caricature of a man who supposedly “does not give shishi”.
Perhaps the larger lesson extends beyond Peter Obi himself. It is about the responsibility of citizens to test political labels against verifiable evidence. In an age dominated by slogans, outrage and viral narratives, democracy is strengthened when people examine the facts before embracing popular perceptions.
Nigeria’s democracy also needs a deeper conversation about leadership. Too often, political generosity is measured by the visibility of handouts rather than the durability of investments. Societies are not transformed by spectacle alone. They are built through functional schools, well-equipped hospitals, strong universities, and resilient institutions.
Whether one supports Peter Obi politically is ultimately a matter of personal conviction. The more enduring question raised by his documented pattern of giving is larger than any individual politician. Should Nigeria’s public life place greater value on leaders who invest in institutions rather than transient displays of generosity?
That question deserves thoughtful reflection. If Nigeria’s democracy is to mature beyond slogans and stereotypes, the citizens must become more willing to examine evidence before repeating narratives. In the final analysis, political labels may shape elections, but institutions shape nations. Perhaps that is the more enduring legacy to which every public leader should aspire.
Kalu Okoronkwo is a communications strategist, a leadership and good governance advocate dedicated to impactful societal development, and can be reached via kalu.okoronkwo@gmail.com
