Tinubu’s scorecard, some say, reads like a paradox: political power 80 percent, electric power supply 20 percent. It is a striking contrast in a country where power, both political and electrical, shapes daily life in ways too visible to ignore.
When I wrote my birthday tribute to mark the 52nd anniversary of Governor Umar Bago, titled “52 Reasons His Leadership Shines,” many Nigerlites felt I downplayed the painful crises of potable water and electricity in Minna and beyond, especially at a time when Muslims observe Ramadan under intense heat, seeking cool air to ease dehydration and conserve strength. Their concern was not misplaced. It was emotional, immediate, and real.
My response remains simple: there is a time for everything. Societies across cultures understand the unwritten code that birthdays, tributes, obituaries, and moments of celebration are sacred spaces. They are windows for empathy, goodwill, prayer, and affirmation. Even Aristotle, in his reflections on virtue, reminds us that character is revealed not merely in criticism but in the capacity for balance. A birthday message is not an audit report. It is not a policy review session. It is a pause to celebrate humanity before returning to hard conversations. Empathy, after all, is not weakness; it is a mark of emotional intelligence and strength.
Yet the feedback I received did something important. It reopened a deeper wound, one not limited to Niger State but shared across Nigeria: the frustration over electricity. At a time when President Bola Ahmed Tinubu appears to wield formidable political influence, the experience of darkness in homes and streets feels like a humbling counterweight. Political power may be consolidated, but electric power remains fragile.
It must be said clearly: the crisis of electricity is not an abstract inconvenience. It is the silent engine behind other breakdowns. In towns like Bida, blessed with a favorable water table and boreholes in nearly every compound, water has become hostage to electricity. When power comes once a day, often for barely four hours and usually deep into the night when most people are asleep, what meaningful productivity can be achieved? Refrigerators fail, small businesses stall, students read under torchlight, and boreholes remain idle. Darkness does not only aggravate tension; it multiplies helplessness, deepens economic hardship, and quietly erodes hope.
While leadership at all levels has a role to play, the bulk of the burden rests with the Federal Government because the electricity grid is national. What many dismiss as a local complaint is, in fact, a systemic challenge. Nigeria’s national grid has suffered repeated collapses over the years, caused by gas supply shortages, transmission bottlenecks, aging infrastructure, and technical faults. Energy economists often refer to this as a “structural deficit trap,” where underinvestment, debt, and inefficiency reinforce one another. With generation companies owed trillions of naira and available capacity far below installed capacity, the gap between promise and performance widens.
The irony has reached symbolic proportions. Even the Presidential Villa, Aso Rock, has moved toward solar power installation to guarantee uninterrupted electricity. To some, this is pragmatic leadership embracing renewable energy. To others, it feels like an elite escape from a problem millions still endure. Either way, the symbolism is powerful: when the seat of power seeks refuge from the national grid, citizens inevitably ask hard questions.
Public frustration has spilled across media platforms and social networks. The tone ranges from satire to anger. The promise that power supply alone could determine electoral fate has now become a recurring joke in political conversations. Yet beneath the humor lies exhaustion. Nigerians are not demanding miracles; they are demanding reliability.
It is also important to acknowledge that President Tinubu did not inherit a stable system. During President Muhammadu Buhari’s eight-year tenure, the grid reportedly collapsed dozens of times, with incidents recorded almost yearly in troubling numbers. The problem is longstanding and deeply rooted. However, inheritance does not absolve responsibility. Leadership is tested precisely where history has failed. Promises of reform, improvement, and renewed hope raise expectations. And when expectations collide with darkness, disappointment grows louder.
To the ordinary citizen, electricity is the simplest metric of governance. It requires no academic index, no statistical gymnastics. When power improves, everyone feels it instantly. Shops stay open longer. Water flows. Hospitals function more effectively. Industries expand. Jobs multiply. In development theory, energy is often described as the backbone of industrialization. Without stable electricity, no sector can fully realize its potential. Power is not just a utility; it is the bloodstream of modern society.
The absence of electricity now directly affects water availability and public health. It affects education, food preservation, security, and mental well-being. Leaders must understand that there is no real strategy, no durable achievement, and no meaningful transformation without confronting the “witches and wizards of darkness,” as people metaphorically describe the forces behind persistent outages. Political dominance without energy stability feels incomplete.
I have often thought that the Ministry of Power should be the ultimate testing ground for bold reformers. It is the one ministry where performance cannot be disguised. Outcomes are immediate and measurable. If light improves, the nation knows. If darkness persists, the verdict is equally clear. That is where renewed hope should begin.
There is no true political power when electric power, the key to national peace, growth, and progress, remains unreliable. Why should citizens struggle with escalating electricity bills while living in perpetual uncertainty, unable to predict when they will have light for the most basic tasks?
Lastly, governance is not measured by speeches or strategy alone but by tangible impact. And in Nigeria today, the glow of a steady bulb may be the most powerful symbol of leadership fulfilled.
Bagudu can be reached at bagudumohammed15197@gmail.com or on 0703 494 3575.
