Philip Shaibu, the impeached deputy governor of Edo State, fell from power during the week in a plot believed to have been orchestrated by his boss, Governor Godwin Obaseki.
The handwriting was boldly on the wall. The target saw the danger coming, but he lacked the street wisdom and the political firepower to avert it.
Shaibu is downcast. He has vowed to fight on, partly encouraged by the few dispirited sympathisers he has attracted. But as Godwins Omobayo, a 37-year-old engineer from Ibilo in Akoko-Edo Local Government Area, immediately filled the vacuum created by his ouster, the reality about the end of his era dawned on his powerless supporters.
The huge loss in the power game contrasted with the status he acquired almost four years ago. The same man who fought to keep him on the joint ticket dropped him, six months to the end of his second term with his erstwhile boss. He was cast out like a nominal fellow without a rich political background – used and dumped.
Shaibu is down. But it may not be the end of his political career. Moments of political adversity can either strengthen or weigh down a political actor. The opportunity is still there for an astute politician to return to the drawing board and arm himself with novel strategies for survival.
Some deputies like him were shoved aside in the past, only to bounce back in the National Assembly as senators. Others were not that lucky; they went into oblivion. Few in that category are yet to completely find their feet. They are loafing and floating in their regression to self-pity, licking the wounds of their mistakes and the tragedies inflicted on their illustrious political careers by senior political partners.
Shaibu is a trained accountant. But he hardly anticipated that day of accountability when the table could suddenly turn. He is versed in auditing, a core professional course in his chosen field. But political auditing is a different ball game. The assessment criteria and tools could be highly subjective, suspect, partisan, sentimental and harsh. Thus, when the panel audited his activities, using an inexplicable method handed to them by his tormentors in the executive and legislative organs, he was inevitably found guilty.
The overzealous House of Assembly closed its eyes to the subsisting court case and the presiding judge’s directive that the respondents, including the lawmakers and other agents of the state, should be put on notice.
The transformation of the dethroned politician was instant. It was akin to a change of status from an asset to a liability. He was in Benin in the morning as a titular, lonely, and rejected ‘deputy’ man of power. Before noon, he had lost his immunity, strolling out of power as a loner. All entitlements – severance allowance, gratuity, and pension – if any, are hanging. Even, if he is pardoned in the future and the impeachment is reversed, the time lost cannot be regained. Left in the cold, he now contends with a fading influence.
Shaibu has, for now, lost on two counts. Apart from losing the number two seat in Edo, he cannot also be fielded by any political party for the governorship election. According to the electoral commission, party nominations have closed. He lost out in the succession plan, which, fundamentally, was the bone of contention between him and his boss.
It is ironic. When the hand of his principal was heavy on the state parliament, Shaibu was his partner in tyrannical tactics that smacked of the violation of the principle of separation of powers. For more than a year, 14 All Progressives Congress (APC) lawmakers-elect were not allowed to take their seats in the hallowed chamber till the end of their tenure. The state legislature was operating at half capacity. Those times were remarkable for panic and pain as democracy was on crutches in Edo and duly elected Assemblymen forfeited the legal and legitimate right to represent their constituencies.
Little did Shaibu know that a fatal blow of fate awaited his position. He is not a greenhorn. But it is doubtful if he had taken cognisance of the nature of the Nigerian brand of presidential system that has made presidents and governors some sorts of emperors, dictators, neo-colonialists, imperialists, and lords of the manor. They brooked no opposition.
A former governor once retorted: “Ordinary deputy governor? Who is his father?”
The former deputy governor of Edo is not oblivious of the fate of those before him, including Enyinnaya Abaribe, Christopher Ekpenyong, Kofoworola Bucknor-Akerele, Femi Pedro, Iyiola Omisore, Abiodun Aluko, Jude Agbaso, Ali Olanusi, Eze Madumere, and Simon Achuba. Their offence may be due to their lack of adjustment to the role of a spare tyre. Shaibu’s history or current affairs teacher in secondary school would have hinted him about the consequences of Ajasin/Omoboriowo, Ige/Afolabi and Ali/Akpofure imbroglio in the Second Republic. The scenarios conveyed the impression that though the constitution mandates the governor to run with a deputy, the deputy has no clearly defined and visible role, duties and responsibilities to perform in a presidential democracy beyond what the principal is inclined to permit.
In some states, commissioners are in better reckoning than many deputy governors. Governors have never liked the fact that their deputies are the number one beneficiaries of official mishaps, either through impeachment, incapacitation or death. Obaseki might have been ready to accommodate Shaibu to the extent that he would not dream of succeeding him. That meant a sort of career sealing for an ambitious youth who perceives politics as a career and vocation.
A star student union leader during his university days, Shaibu joined politics without much experience in remunerative labour and private business. Luck smiled at him as a member of the House of Assembly and later, the House of Representatives. His godfather and benefactor was the erstwhile labour leader, Comrade Adams Oshiomhole, former governor and incumbent Edo North senator. Indeed, Oshiomhole was responsible for choosing Shaibu as Obaseki’s running mate in 2016. But the cordial relations ended after his inauguration. What only remained was the radical dress code; like the adorning of phoney Awo caps by some clever guys in the progressive camp.
There was a conflict of interest. When a crisis broke out between godfather Oshiomhole and godson Obaseki, Shaibu declared his absolute loyalty to the governor. It was expected. But he did more. He also declared war against his mentor to the extent that when the senior comrade fell from the APC national chair, he was mocked by those whom he had assisted in gaining power, including His Excellency, the erstwhile deputy governor. .
As the APC became hotter for Obaseki, he sought refuge in the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP). After securing the ticket, he also fought a hard battle to retain Shaibu as deputy. If the governor had not insisted on him, Shaibu would have suddenly become a wanderer in the wilderness.
Shaibu’s ambition to become governor never aligned with Obaseki’s succession plan. When he tabled his proposal before the captain, it was declined. Obaseki insisted, in the spirit of equity, fairness, and justice, that the slot should go to Edo Central, which has not produced a governor since 1999. Those were not the only reasons. It may be that Obaseki also peeped into the future and realised that someone who could ditch his mentor may also do the same thing to him after leaving office.
Shaibu has an inalienable right to contest, but it was evident that without the support of the state party leader, his ambition was dead on arrival.
The options open to the former governor are four. Shaibu can team up with APC in his district to battle PDP. There is no permanent friend or foe in politics but permanent interest. However, at the initial stage, Shaibu’s former APC colleagues may loathe his defection while recalling the old betrayal.
He can join another party, either the Labour Party (LP) or any mushroom platform, rebuild it, and use it for negotiation. It is not an easy option.
Alternatively, he can remain in PDP, and endure the shame and pain of denial. This means that he would not earn the label of a serial defector.
The last option is to retire from politics and pursue a career in his enviable accounting profession, acquire a chartered status if he has not already done so, work hard to become an ICAN Fellow, launch into business, using his political connections, and become an entrepreneur of repute and employer of labour.
The last option is fantasy. Politicians never contemplate retirement from the game of intrigues. They keep hope alive, despite any setback, and hope is an elixir of life.
