"Arabambi Abayomi: Dapo Abiodun Secures Endorsement for Ogun East Senate"

My attention has just been drawn to an article written by Wale Onifade with the caption: “Ogun East Ticket: How Dapo Abiodun Is Bullying, Threatening, and Manipulating His Way to a Senatorial Showdown.”

Ordinarily, I would never have dignified such an insanely mischievous diatribe with a response, but due to its extremely divisive nature, it is only natural that I put this down.

The writer’s mission has exposed the attributes of someone who might perhaps be suffering from pseudologia fantastica. His mission was not only mischievous and dishonest, but also erroneous, laced with incorrect narratives that can only be spun by unctuous, dissipated, debauched, and desperate elements attempting to turn a perfectly organised APC Ogun East stakeholders’ meeting—where His Excellency, Prince Dapo Abiodun, was endorsed as the senatorial candidate of the APC in the upcoming 2027 general elections into something mendacious and devious.

There is a season for politics, and then there is a season for statecraft. The two are not the same, though mischief-makers delight in blurring the line. We are entering the latter—a period when far-reaching decisions are made for the good of the state, when roads must be laid, hospitals stocked, salaries paid, and oil wells brought to life. Yet here comes an article dressed as investigation, parading as conscience, that offers nothing but hearsay, envelopes, and anonymous threats. This is not journalism. This is the politics of the poisoned well, and those who drink from it will find only thirst.

The piece titled “Ogun East Ticket: How Dapo Abiodun Is Buying, Threatening, and Manipulating His Way to a Senatorial Showdown” can best be described as mischievous politics taken too far. It deploys the grammar of exposure—“sources say,” “multiple party sources confirm,” “one party chieftain said”—but delivers no evidence, no named accuser, no audited trail of cash. What it offers instead is speculation served as fact, and malice dressed as vigilance. This is the political season, yes—but that is precisely why we must not play politics with everything around us.

Let us name what is happening. Governor Dapo Abiodun has performed creditably well in infrastructure, education, health, and aviation. The Gateway International Airport is not a rumour; it is tarmac and terminal. Two oil wells have been discovered in Ogun State, and soon the state will be counted among Nigeria’s oil-producing entities. Salaries are paid as and when due. Pensions are paid. Gratuities are paid. When last did Ogun workers go on strike? When last did the ghost of unpaid wages haunt the corridors of power? The governor has turned the state into a construction site, not a conspiracy theory. Yet the article mentions none of this. Why? Because facts are inconvenient. Envelopes sell.

The writer claims that Governor Abiodun is bribing 400 persons at the Adeola Odutola Event Hall in Ijebu-Ode. Four hundred names? No list. No photograph of an opened envelope. No bank statement.

The truth is that the hall held the full complement of Ogun East’s leadership: every councillor, all ward chairmen, all ward executives, all local government chairmen, all local government executives, all serving members of the National Assembly, all serving members of the State Assembly, all past members of the State and National Assembly, and all members of the State Advisory Council.

Therefore, what manner of slumber produces a dream where an entire political class sells its honour in full view of one another, with not a single dissenting voice or leaking hand?

This article is part of the damage bad politics inflicts. It does not seek truth; it seeks traction. It does not serve Ogun East; it serves the writer’s appetite for influence and whatever mission he pursues. The governor’s office had not responded as of press time, the article admits. Then why publish? Why not wait for a reply? Because waiting is honourable, and honour is not the currency here.

The most audacious paragraph accuses the governor of colliding with President Bola Tinubu. “He is calling Aso Rock’s bluff,” a “senior party figure” says—anonymous, of course. The Presidency has not commented, the article concedes. So, the writer manufactures a collision between two leaders who have worked together to stabilise the party and the state. This is not politics. This is pantomime.

And what of the “ranking senator” argument? The article insists that sacrificing a ranking senator for a first-term aspirant is self-harm. A fair point—if delivered in good faith. But this is not good faith; this is a cudgel. The same writer who weeps for senatorial seniority says nothing about the seniority of development—the roads, the schools, the airport, the emerging oil economy. Ogun State has taken on a new look. That is the ranking that matters.

Let me say this plainly: playing politics with everything around us—with every rumour, every anonymous whisper, every imagined slight—is the fastest way to fracture a state. The political season demands vigilance, yes, but it also demands restraint. Decisions are being made for the good of the state: budgets approved, roads awarded, schools renovated, health centres equipped. If we drown these in hearsay, we lose the signal in the noise.

The governor, Dapo Abiodun, has run this race and continues to run it—toward a gold medal, as his supporters would say. That is not empty praise; it is the testimony of visible works. The airport did not build itself. The oil wells did not discover themselves. Salaries did not pay themselves. If opponents wish to contest, let them present their own performance index—their own roads, their own schools, their own record on pensions. But do not bring envelopes without evidence. Do not bring threats without names. Do not bring anonymous chieftains who speak only in shadows.

The article ends with theatrical gravity: “The real verdict on who enters the Red Chamber will not be delivered in an envelope at the Adeola Odutola Hall. It will be delivered at the ballot.” Agreed. So let us wait for the ballot. Let us stop printing indictments before investigations conclude. Let us stop calling a stakeholders’ meeting a cash-and-carry operation simply because we dislike the convener.

Ogun East deserves better. Ogun State deserves better. The political season demands vigilance, yes—but also responsibility. Not every gathering is a bazaar. Not every endorsement is a bribe. And not every journalist who shouts “fire” in a crowded theatre is a hero. Some are simply arsonists with bylines.

Give honour to whom it is due. Governor Dapo Abiodun has performed. Let his works be his witness. And let this article be remembered for what it is: mischief dressed in a trench coat, caught in the rain without an umbrella.

Note:

I am fully aware that the writer and his sponsors have hired armchair “rice-and-beans” activists, crude analysts, and compromised civil society voices to stage a media war and protests against Governor Prince Dapo Abiodun. Let me leave them with a simple parable:

There was once a village that had never seen rain in December. Every elder knew this; every farmer planned accordingly. Then came a stranger who declared, “This year, December will flood.” He hired drummers to announce it, paid storytellers to spread it, and gathered a crowd to swear by it. But when December came, the sun burned as it always had.

The villagers asked the stranger, “Why did you promise what has never happened?”

He replied, “I wanted to be the first to say it.”

That is your war.

You seek to do what has never been done in Ogun East—turn a hall of leaders into a den of thieves, a performing governor into a villain, and a political season into a carnival of falsehood. You may hire your analysts and fund your civil society prophets, but the sun will still rise.

Dr. Arabambi Abayomi (FBAU)

AJAGUNGBADE I of Nigeria

State Convener

Sustainability of Ogun & Dapo Abiodun Legacy Beyond 2027

Date: Monday, April 20, 2026