Olu Allen
I have always marveled at the early missionaries, those lone voices entering unknown territories. Their project was arguably the most ambitious sales pitch in history: to persuade entire civilizations to trade their ancestral gods for a new gospel.
Impossible barriers of language and culture did not stop them. What they possessed was a formidable trinity: conviction, clarity, and the courage to stand before the crowd and be tested. Their power was not in force, but in persuasion.
This archetype is not exclusive to Christianity. The spread of Islam across Northern Nigeria, often through scholarly debate and trade, followed a similar path.
These were not mere orators; they were master persuaders. They understood that to convert a mind, you must first engage it.
They didn’t merely announce; they argued, defended, and won. They sold an idea so completely that it became the buyer’s own.
This principle resonates with me deeply. I am, by conviction, sapiosexual. I am drawn to the architecture of a well-built argument. For me, support is not given; it is earned through logical rigor and persuasive evidence. I need to be convinced.
This is the primary reason I withheld my vote from President Bola Tinubu. He sidestepped the fundamental marketplace of ideas: the presidential debate.
As someone who understands the mechanics of influence, I know a simple truth: you cannot close a sale from an empty room.
How do you propose to govern over 200 million complex souls without first presenting your vision for their inspection and winning their conscious buy-in?
His presidency has confirmed this foundational failure. The art of persuasion has been replaced by the mechanics of opacity.
His governance is shrouded in a curious silence. Frequent, unexplained voyages to France are not explained but decorated, curated photographs of “private lunches” released like totems, while the public is fed linguistic contraptions like “working leave.” This is not transparency; it is alchemy, turning the lead of secrecy into the gold of official narrative.
These terms stretch the English language until they snap, mocking our desire for accountability.
Leadership is a public contract, not a private venture. Upon taking office, a president’s life ceases to be a personal diary; it becomes a public document.
Movements require context, policies demand justification, and visions must be sold with a clarity that citizens can trust and champion.
Convincing the people is not a ceremonial prelude to power; it is the very engine of legitimate governance.
This is why I fear and oppose a continuation. A leader who abstains from persuasion, who governs through enigmatic pronouncements and cultivated distance, does not preserve dignity; he breeds distrust.
He risks becoming a political paradox: an authoritarian democrat. Elected by ballot, yet ruling by remove. If he wins in 2027, history will not record him as a missionary of progress, but as a custodian of ambiguity.
And that is not a leadership worth renewing. It is a silence worth breaking.
Allen writes from Kano. He writes on public affairs and promote good governance. He can be reached on oluallen1904@gmail.com
