Opinion
PARABLE OF THE EVICTED LANDLORD Ah, Nigerian politics!
By FAGBAMILA JOHNSON OLAWALE
Where one man’s castle turns into another’s squatter camp overnight. Picture this: Rep Leke Abejide, the big man from Kogi, strutting around like he owns the whole African Democratic Congress (ADC).
Fast forward to September 10, 2025, and INEC, that no-nonsense bouncer at the gate, slaps the official stamp on David Mark as the new chairman, with Rauf Aregbesola as secretary. The old crew? Out. The keys? Handed to the coalition boys who waltzed in with their fancy suits and big names. Abejide’s suspension in Kogi? Tossed aside like yesterday’s fufu wrapper. Even his threats of court don’t scare anyone anymore.
Now, Honorable Abejide, tell us straight: Has your house been snatched right under your nose? You, the self-crowned oga at the top, watching as these so-called tenants Mark and his gang bolt the doors, repaint the walls, and throw a party with your stereo blasting? Did you sleep through the eviction notice? Or were you too busy counting your “ownership” shares to notice the surveyors at work?
It’s laughable, really. This man who called the coalition a “flash in the pan” now stands outside in the rain, peeking through the window as strangers sip tea in his parlor. In our villages, we have a saying: The dog that barks loudest often ends up chasing its own tail. Abejide barked plenty about how he financed the party for eight years, how no one from “nowhere” can hijack his baby. But here we are, landlord turned gatecrasher.
And that is where the parable comes in. Once there was a boastful landlord who claimed his house could never be taken. He chased tenants, mocked visitors, and laughed at neighbors who warned him to renew his papers. He trusted his swagger more than the law, his noise more than wisdom. Then, one morning, the bailiffs came with stamped documents, padlocked the gates, and handed the keys to strangers. The mighty landlord became a wanderer, his chest deflated, his voice swallowed. The village children sang, “The landlord has no house!” And truly, he didn’t.
So, what’s next for our displaced big boy? Will he pack his bags and beg entry into the APC, turning that giant tent into an IDP camp for jobless owners like him? But even there, the youths of the party, who had long seen what would eventually befall him, warned him clearly: stay off our house, don’t come in to later claim landlord and destroy it with arrogance. After all, did he not borrow ADC as a mere vehicle in 2019, only to suddenly crown himself landlord? Will he now go to APC and commit the very same sin he is accusing David Mark and his goons of? Or, hold your sides, will he swallow his pride, knock politely on David Mark’s door, and bow to the new oga, whispering, “Please sir, may I come in as a humble tenant?”
The ancestors must be giggling in their graves. For in politics, as in life, a landlord who refuses to read the fine print may end up as the tenant of his own arrogance. Today, Abejide paces outside, rain dripping on his shoulders, clutching faded receipts that no longer count. Tomorrow, he may learn that a house is not secured by money alone but by law, structure, and humility.
Politics na so, my brother: today na you get house, tomorrow na you dey find corner to sleep. And in the book of parables, the evicted landlord is a warning to all who confuse noise for ownership. Who’s the joke on now, Rep? The mirror, I think.
FAGBAMILA JOHNSON OLAWALE writes in from Kogi State.
