By Charles Iornumbe
“Whosoever desires constant success must change his conduct with the times.” ……Niccolò Machiavelli
In Tiv land, as in much of Nigeria, politics has never been a quiet affair. It is a dance of drums, voices and shifting alliances, where the man who stands in the arena must expect both applause and arrows. Yet among the many weapons used in that arena, one remains both feared and despised: the petition.
A petition, in its truest sense, is a cry for justice. It is the voice of the weak knocking at the door of authority. But when the pen becomes a dagger hidden in a letterhead, it transforms from a tool of accountability into an instrument of sabotage. And in Tiv society, that transformation carries a cost that stains for generations.
The Tiv people have a proverb: “alu u time ihungwa wer, aningbian u genegh agba yô, we kpa wa ikyo a angahar ough” meaning; ‘he who digs a pit for another must watch his own feet’. It is a reminder that no act of betrayal or sabotage goes unnoticed in the moral ledger of the community. The court of public opinion in Tiv land is swift and unforgiving, especially when ambition is dressed in the robes of treachery.
Historically, the road to limelight in Tiv land has been built on service, oratory and communal trust. Men rose not because they whispered in the dark, but because they stood in the market square and spoke for the people. That is why the label “petition writer” has never been a crown of honor here.
Over the decades, certain names (withheld) have entered the folklore of Tiv politics in connection with petitions that allegedly sought to discredit rivals at critical moments. The stories are told in whispers at kindred meetings, in beer parlors and during election seasons as well as when new governments take over becoming part of the oral history that shapes how leaders are remembered.
In the history of Tiv political memory, there was one of those well known petition writers recalled as a man of sharp intellect and bold presence. Whether the allegations of petition writing attached to his name are true or exaggerated, the mere association has colored how his contributions are discussed.
Another of such names that surfaces was himself a veteran of Nigeria’s political struggles, a man of national stature, a voice that moved between the corridors of power and the villages of Benue. His legacy is complex statesman, activist, critic but in Tiv political storytelling, he too has been linked to episodes where his pen was allegedly used against opponents.
The pattern is familiar across Nigeria. When a leader rises, rivals search for the soft underbelly. When they cannot defeat him in the field of ideas or elections, they resort to the letter. A well-timed petition can delay appointments, stall projects and stain reputations even if the allegations never hold in the courts.
Perhaps, the tragedy is that the damage is often irreversible. As the Yoruba saying goes, “A lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is putting on its shoes.” A petition does not need to be true to be effective; it only needs to be believed long enough to change the course of a career.
In Tiv cosmology, the ancestors are believed to watch over the living. Actions taken in secret are thought to be seen by those who have gone before. This belief has acted as a cultural restraint, making many wary of using dishonorable means to climb the ladder of leadership.
The community’s attitude is summed up in another Tiv popular maxim “u ya tswen, ukpe tswen” translated in English as ‘If you eat alone, you will choke alone’. Leadership in Tiv land is communal. A man who undermines his brother to rise alone is seen as breaking the covenant that holds society together.
Conversely, this is why those identified with petition writing often find the path to genuine limelight blocked. They may gain temporary favor with patrons, but the people’s memory is long. The applause that follows a betrayal is usually borrowed and returned at the first opportunity.
To say the least, anecdotes abound of young men who were once patronized by powerful figures to draft letters against opponents. Many of them rose quickly, only to fall faster when the patronage dried up. They became political orphans, trusted by no one because they had proven they could not be trusted.
The philosophical weight of this lies in the understanding of the saying that, “a good character is more formidable than blood and stronger than the office”, meaning: a man without character may hold a title, but he will never hold the people’s heart.
Now, you may wish to contrast this with leaders who chose confrontation in the open. Even when they lost battles, they kept their names. The Tiv respect a man who fights standing, not one who stabs while bowing.
Records show that the colonial and post-colonial times introduced new forms of political combat. The petition, once a colonial administrative tool was adapted by local actors. What began as a means of seeking redress became, in some hands, a means of settling scores.
Yet, the community’s judgment has remained consistent. Ask an elder in Gboko or Katsina-Ala about the men who rose to national prominence from Tiv land and you will hear names tied to courage, negotiation and public service. Rarely will you hear a name celebrated solely for their skill with a petition.
This is not to say that all petitions are evil. Where corruption, abuse and injustice exist, petitions are necessary. The distinction lies in intent. Is the pen seeking to clean the house, or to burn it down because one cannot be made landlord?
The problem arises when the pen becomes a business. When young men are patronized to write against any opponent of their benefactor, the line between civic duty and hired vendetta disappears. In that moment, the writer trades long-term honor for short-term gain.
In fact, the consequences play out in the public sphere. Such individuals may be used and rewarded, but they rarely become trusted fellows. The people may listen to them in the moment, but they do not follow them in the long run.
Chinua Achebe wrote, “When a man says yes, his chieftaincy has started.” In Tiv land, that “yes” must be to the people, not to a patron’s vendetta. Once the “yes” is to destruction, the chieftaincy that follows is empty.
The story of Tiv politics is littered with men who had intellect, courage and opportunity, but lost the race because they chose the shortcut of the petition over the long road of service. Their names are remembered, but not for the reasons they hoped.
On the other hand, men who refused to be used as instruments of character assassination often found that time vindicated them. They may have been delayed, but they were not destroyed. The community eventually separates the wheat from the chaff.
This is why elders still warn the youth: “Do not be the arrow another man shoots. If you must fly, fly on your own wings.” It is a warning against being patronized into a role that will define you negatively forever in the eyes of the community. So, don’t cry when what you bargained for begins to haunt you.
It is interesting that, modern era, with its social media and instant communication, has amplified the power of the petition. A single post can now do what once required a sealed letter to Abuja. But the cultural verdict remains the same.
In the court of Tiv public opinion, a leader is measured not by how many opponents he destroys, but by how many people he lifts. The pen that builds is praised; the pen that destroys is remembered with suspicion.
For those who aspire to limelight, the lesson is clear. Ambition without integrity is like a drum without skin, it makes noise but produces no music. The people may dance to the noise for a night, but they will not follow it to the future.
The way forward for Tiv politics is to reclaim the culture of open contest and verifiable service. Institutions must protect whistleblowers who speak truth, while the community must reject hired pens that speak only for pay.
Political parties and patrons must also ask themselves what kind of legacy they are creating. A leader who builds his house on the destruction of others will inherit a house of sand.
In the end, Tiv land has always had a way of remembering. The names that endure are those tied to sacrifice, to standing for the people and to refusing to be used against one’s own. The petition writer may have a moment, but it is the servant-leader who has a legacy.
Petition writing, when used as a tool of sabotage rather than justice, is a short-term tactic. Machiavelli’s point is that success and reputation endure only when conduct aligns with honor and changing moral expectations. Those who rely on betrayal and character assassination often pay the price when times and public sentiment shift against them.
So in conclusion, let the pen be used to record truth, to demand justice and to build consensus. Let it not become the knife that cuts the throat of brotherhood. For, in Tiv land, no man climbs to lasting honor on the shoulders of another’s disgrace.
Dr Charles Iornumbe is a former Director-General of Radio Benue Corporation, Makurdi.
