By Wahab Sanni
It is often said that a leopard cannot change its spots. This was exactly what came to mind as one read through the above unfortunate piece.
Considering what happened to him while he was in office, one would have thought that the former Governor of Lagos State, Mr. Akinwunmi Ambode, would have learnt his lessons, become humble, and be a good party man.
Unfortunately, from the tirade that one of his insensitive disciples wrote, it is quite palpable that the former Governor is still his arrogant, pompous, and haughty self. How can someone who requires redemption throw caution to the wind by throwing such weighty tantrums at elders who toil day and night to build the same party where he hopes to run for governor again? An irredeemable spirit of “aluta”?
Whoever advised Ambode to go that perilous route is definitely out to destroy him again. It is such an ill-advised move, especially now when all hands ought to be on deck to ensure the party is better-positioned and united in Lagos State for total victory in President Bola Tinubu’s second term.
SELECTIVE OUTRAGE
The article’s central claim—that former Governor Ambode “deserves a second chance”—rests more on emotional persuasion than on political logic. It frames his fall as an injustice and his return as a moral necessity. But Lagos politics has never operated on moral restitution; it operates on power retention, loyalty, and systemic continuity.
To argue for a second chance without interrogating the conditions that led to his political downfall is to ignore the system’s structural reality. In Lagos, political actors are not independent agents rising on merit alone—they are products of a carefully managed hierarchy. Entry, survival, and advancement are mediated by networks of influence where loyalty is rewarded, and dissent is punished.
The article attempts to cast the individual as a victim of this system, but that framing is incomplete. He was not an outsider crushed by the system; he was a beneficiary of it. His rise was enabled by the same machinery now being criticized. Therefore, calling for a “second chance” without addressing this contradiction amounts to selective outrage.
More importantly, the idea of a second chance assumes that something fundamentally new would emerge from his return. But what evidence is presented that he has evolved beyond the constraints that previously defined him? Has he demonstrated political sagacity? Has he articulated a new governance philosophy?
Democracy is not strengthened by repeatedly reintroducing familiar actors into unchanged systems. It is strengthened by institutional reform and accountability, not by emotional appeals for individual reinstatement. Until the conversation shifts from personalities to structures, the idea of a “second chance” will remain a political illusion.
One of the most striking weaknesses of the article is its tendency to shift blame almost entirely onto the system while downplaying the role of the individual at the center of the narrative.
Yes, politics in our climate can be heavily structured. Yes, godfatherism could be real. But within that system, not all actors meet the same fate. Some navigate it successfully; others collapse under its pressures. The difference often lies not just in external forces, but in strategic decisions made by the actors themselves.
INJUSTICE AS AN ESCAPE ROUTE
The article presents Mr. Ambode as though he were an unfortunate casualty—someone who simply fell victim to overwhelming structural forces. But this interpretation ignores critical questions: Did he manage his alliances effectively? Did he understand the limits of his autonomy within the system? Did he build independent political capital or rely excessively on inherited legitimacy? Did he demonstrate character – in the true spirit of an “omoluabi”?
By portraying Mr. Ambode primarily as a victim, the article inadvertently removes the element of accountability. It suggests that his downfall was inevitable, rather than partly the result of miscalculations, overreach, or strategic errors.
Political actors are both shaped by and responsible within their environments. Mr. Ambode’s story, therefore, should not be simplified into a narrative of injustice. It should also be examined as a case study in the consequences of mismanaging power within a tightly controlled political ecosystem.
A genuine second chance, if it is to be meaningful, must be grounded in acknowledged mistakes and demonstrated growth—not just sympathy and emotional blackmail.
IS LAGOS A REHABILITATION CENTRE?
This emotional “he deserves a second chance” narrative is not just weak; it’s dangerous. It tries to guilt the public into ignoring performance, discipline, character, and political reality. Lagos is a high-stakes state. You don’t get multiple retries at the top because people feel sorry for you.
And while the article bends over backwards to humanize one man’s political misfortune, it conveniently ignores something critical: Dr. Obafemi Hamzat didn’t get here by luck, pity, or sentiment. He got here by consistency, competence, and alignment with a working system.
