By Charles Iornumbe
Good leadership is often mistaken for silence and sacrifice for weakness. In the Nigerian political theatre where ambition wears a loud costume, the men who lay down their swords to preserve the peace are dismissed as “weaklings.”
Yet history, like an old drum, keeps beating the same truth: the leader who fears to lose power often loses the people, while the leader who fears to lose the people keeps their legacy.
Consider former President Goodluck Jonathan in 2015. Nigeria stood on the edge of a knife, with fears of post-election violence thick in the air. Many expected the fire of incumbency to burn through the ballot. Instead, Jonathan made a phone call that stunned the world. “Nobody’s ambition is worth the blood of any Nigerian,” he said, conceding before the final results were declared.
In that single act, he doused a potential inferno. The international community hailed it as a masterclass in democratic maturity. At home, some called it weakness. But if one may ask; what was weak about choosing a nation over a seat?
We see the same script playing out in Rivers State today. Governor Siminalayi Fubara, faced with a fractious political battle that threatened to paralyze governance and inflame the streets, chose the path of de-escalation and dialogue.
To his critics, this was retreat. To students of statecraft, it was restraint. As the African proverb says, “He who learns to sit still in a storm does not fall when the wind rises.” Fubara’s restraint is not absence of strength; it is strength under control.
Contrast this with the other face of leadership, the leader who sacrifices the people for self. Across the continent, we have seen strongmen who treat the state as personal estate. They bend institutions, muzzle dissent and set brother against brother to keep the throne warm.
In the short run, they appear invincible, their shadows stretching long over the land. But like a tree with rotten roots, they fall when the storm of public anger arrives. The people may be silent for a season, but they are never blind.
Africa has also produced examples of the better path. Nelson Mandela walked out of 27 years in prison and could have ruled South Africa with the vengeance of the oppressed. Instead, he chose reconciliation, stepping down after one term to set a precedent that power is stewardship, not ownership.
In Tanzania, Julius Nyerere voluntarily retired in 1985, saying “leadership is not a lifelong appointment.” In Liberia, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, Africa’s first elected female president, handed over power peacefully in 2018, cementing Liberia’s democratic transition.
These leaders understood what the Nigerian writer and philosopher Chinua Achebe meant when he wrote, “The world has no end and what is good among one people is an abomination with others.” True leadership transcends the moment.
The battle between light and darkness in politics is as old as human society. Darkness appears to win because it is loud, ruthless and immediate. It buys loyalty, manipulates fear and thrives on division. Light, on the other hand, is quiet. It speaks in concessions to peace and in letting go.
But as the Bible reminds us in John 1:5, “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.” History confirms this. Tyrants fade; those who preserve peace endure in memory.
The lesson for Nigeria is clear. We must stop mistaking loudness for strength and silence for cowardice. A leader who can surrender ambition for stability is a surgeon who cuts to save the patient. A leader who sacrifices the patient to save his pride is a butcher. The difference is not in the knife, but in the heart that holds it.
The way forward demands a change in our political culture and our public applause. Citizens must learn to celebrate leaders who choose dialogue over division and institutions must protect those who choose peace over power.
Political parties should reward restraint, not just ruthlessness. And the media, for instance Radio Nigeria – the Africa’s largest radio network, must continue tell the story of sacrifice with the same energy it gives to conflict.
Nigeria’s democracy will not be built by men who refuse to lose, but by men and women who understand that losing an election or stepping back from a fight can be the highest form of winning for the nation. Therefore, when kings step down, kingdoms stand and in that standing, light prevails
Dr Charles Iornumbe is a former Director-General of Radio Benue Corporation, Makurdi.
