I had a long call with one of my former bosses, a man who still serves as a steady compass in my circle. From time to time, I test my thinking with him, not because I need validation, but because perspective is a currency every serious mind must keep in supply. As always, he delivered.
He raised points that landed well, others that did not. To spare you the long walk, let me go straight to the junctions.
1) The admission and the statement matter
He argues that Governor Seyi Makinde deserves credit for acknowledging receipt of the N30bn and publishing a bank statement showing the credit date and closing balance.
On this, we agree.
In our political climate, that level of disclosure is not common. Many governors would rather argue with the wind than publish a document that can be interrogated. It is also worth noting that other states reportedly received similar or even higher intervention sums and have maintained a dignified silence, the kind that usually means, “Do your worst.”
So yes, what Makinde did is unusual. And in Nigeria, the unusual deserves to be stated clearly.
2) “Untouched” is not a small claim
My mentor’s second point is even simpler: if the N30bn is truly intact and untouched, then it was not stolen, not shared to the boys, and not fed to political appetites.
Again, he is not wrong.
We both know the average Nigerian expects public money to sprout legs and disappear. Many governors would struggle to account for that kind of fund after one month, not to mention a year. It would have been converted into “urgent approvals,” “logistics,” “stakeholder engagement,” and other creative nouns that never build anything.
So if the money is indeed there in full, that is a positive.
But it is also the beginning of the questions, not the end.
3) The interest argument: virtue or convenient silence?
This is where we part ways.
He says the absence of interest is a positive. His reasoning is that it is a fiscal oddity to keep public funds in commercial banks and claim interest, and that over time we have normalised what should ordinarily be improper.
I understand the moral flavour of that argument, but I do not buy it as a practical defence.
First, “normalised” is not the same as “false.” Our banking system is not run on sermons. It is run on products, pricing, negotiated terms, and incentives. In real life, large balances, especially public sector balances, rarely sit idle without some form of arrangement, whether as explicit interest, sweeps, or other structured benefits.
Second, even if one insists there should be no interest, transparency still demands clarity. If the Governor’s intention was to be open, then openness must be complete. Nigerians should not be handed a document that answers one question while quietly creating five more.
So, on this point, my position remains: if the funds sat in a bank account for that long, the public deserves a fuller explanation of the account type and terms, not a screenshot and a prayer.
4) The real failure here is communication, not cash
My senior friend’s sharpest point is that this crisis exposed a communications weakness. That first press release was bland and defensive. It did not project confidence, and it did not frame the Governor as what he could arguably have been in this story: the rare politician who did not convert emergency funds into private comfort.
The messaging should have been anchored on the core dispute: a reported N50bn approval versus a N30bn disbursement. That is where the real political heat is, and it is also where the government could have gone on the offensive, not with noise, but with structure.
If the state’s position is that it could not proceed fully because the balance was withheld, then say so plainly. If there were bottlenecks, name them. If there were demands for inducements, publish the evidence and dare the system to deny it. In Nigeria, silence is often interpreted as guilt, and vagueness is usually treated as an insult.
On this, we agreed: the matter was poorly managed at the start.
Still, by Nigeria’s very low standards, the government has conducted itself better than many would have. And yes, that phrase matters: Nigeria’s very low standards. It is not praise. It is an indictment of the baseline.
FOI, too, is not the magic wand many imagine. You can file requests until your printer complains. Institutions will still release what they want, when they want, how they want.
The root issue: executive opacity
Having said all of this, one thing still stands out as the engine of this controversy: executive opacity.
If the government had carried citizens along from the moment the funds were received, explaining the plan, the constraints, and the rationale, we would not be here. Nigerians react badly to surprises, especially when those surprises involve billions and suffering.
Transparency is not what you do when your hand is forced. It is what you build into governance before rumours start mining your silence.
Final word
Oyo State has a good deal in Seyi Makinde. That is not sentiment. That is a comparative assessment in a country where public leadership is often a festival of entitlement.
Yes, we will flog him on this one. A leader must be questioned, even by those who love him.
But we will not cut off our noses to spite our faces. Come 2027, voters must not be hypnotised by the recycled lie that the other party is suddenly reborn, newly competent, and freshly anointed. We know their pattern. In most places, they run the system aground and then blame the sea.
So let this be the standard: hold Makinde accountable, demand full transparency, insist on better communication, and push for relief funds to serve relief.
But let us also be wise enough not to trade a flawed ally for a familiar disaster.
©️Hezekiah Akinrinde is a proud citizen of Oyo State and an unrepentant lover and loyalist of Governor Seyi Makinde
