Leadership Without Vision: The North’s Self-Inflicted Wound

In the past week, Arewa’s social media spaces have been engulfed in a storm of outrage. At the heart of this fury are recent federal government appointments and the allocation of major infrastructure projects accompanied by billions of naira in funding, all of which appear to be for the Southwestern region. The frustration is understandable. […]

Leadership Without Vision: The North’s Self-Inflicted Wound
Leadership Without Vision: The North’s Self-Inflicted Wound

In the past week, Arewa’s social media spaces have been engulfed in a storm of outrage. At the heart of this fury are recent federal government appointments and the allocation of major infrastructure projects accompanied by billions of naira in funding, all of which appear to be for the Southwestern region. The frustration is understandable. The optics are painful. Yet, amid the loud cries of marginalisation, one must ask: are we directing our anger at the right place?

Many Arewa voices have accused President Bola Ahmed Tinubu of sidelining the region, of rewarding only his own political base, and of abandoning the promises of equity and national balance. But if we must be honest with ourselves, this anger is both misplaced and insufficiently introspective. Northern Nigeria’s problems did not begin with Tinubu. They were born from decades of neglect, sustained by silence, and cemented by the failure of our own leaders to act.

Since Nigeria’s independence in 1960, the North has produced more heads of state than any other region, both military and civilian. The North has held power for long stretches of the country’s history 47 years to be exact. And yet, the region has fallen to the bottom of virtually every developmental index and has painfully little to show for its prolonged dominance. The Southwest, on the contrary having ruled Nigeria for just 13 years and three months since independence, has nonetheless continued to strategically invest in critical sectors within their region. The question we must confront is this: what did we do with power when we had it?

When Arewa held the reins of national leadership, what vision did we pursue? What long-term plans did we put in place? What foundational investments were made to guarantee a better future for our children? Unfortunately, we now know the answer. Instead of reforming systems, they reinforced inefficiency. While other regions were strategising, investing, and negotiating, our elite was busy playing ethnic politics, consolidating personal influence, and preserving structures that benefitted a few at the expense of millions.

We must stop pretending that development is automatic or gifted. And in a country as complex as Nigeria, it is often politically negotiated. So today, perhaps what we’re really seeing is the result of strategic prioritisation. It may be political. It may even be tribal. But it is also revealing—development happens where leadership is intentional. It doesn’t emerge from sentiment or entitlement; it is secured by preparation, coordination, and persistent negotiation. So, President Tinubu’s administration whether driven by tribal and regional loyalty—is simply filling a vacuum. A vacuum of vision. A vacuum of accountability. A vacuum of regional leadership.

Even more frustrating is that Northern leaders did make formal submissions to the president. Alhaji Bashir Dalhatu, former Minister of Power and Steel and Chairman of the ACF Board of Trustees, mentioned that a detailed memoranda outlining Arewa’s developmental priorities, including insecurity, agriculture, education, and infrastructure were presented to President Tinubu during an official meeting on May 30, 2024. Yet, two years later, there is little evidence of follow-up or implementation.

What the Arewa now needs is not another speech or general expression of disappointment. It needs direct engagement. A firm, one-on-one conversation with the president to say, plainly, that he has failed to act on his promises. If 64 per cent of his votes came from the North, then the region has the right and the responsibility to hold him accountable through structured negotiation, not passive expectation. Still, this comes back to one undeniable truth: we squandered the years when we had power. We failed to act when we had influence. And now we are watching others do perhaps imperfectly what we refused to do for ourselves.

Where are our governors in these conversations? What are our senators lobbying for? What bills are our legislators sponsoring? What proposals have our ministers put on the president’s table? Are they even in the room? Or have they grown too comfortable with silence while their people suffer?

This is not an attack on any single administration. It is a wake-up call to a region that is bleeding while its so-called leaders remain mute. The blame we heap on the presidency is often a distraction from the local and regional leadership that has failed us far more consistently. We have spent too long blaming others for problems that are firmly within our control.

The future of Arewa will not be determined by who sits in Aso Rock. It will be shaped by what we do—or fail to do—in our state houses, legislative chambers, and development commissions. Until the Arewa begins to demand performance, invest in planning, and hold its representatives accountable, we will remain in this endless loop of disappointment.

2027 is fast approaching, but it must not become another round of ethnic arithmetic and empty political drama. We need to ask hard questions of anyone seeking to represent the North. The question shouldn’t be “What is Tinubu doing for us?” but rather, what are we doing for ourselves? Where is the Arewa Development Blueprint? Where is the accountability from our National Assembly members? Where are the strategic partnerships for agriculture, security, digital economy, and health reform? Why are Arewa youths being recruited to rant instead of organising? If we don’t shift the conversation from blame to blueprint, we’ll be here again in 2029—angry, abandoned, and bitter.

I still firmly believe; the president is not Arewa’s problem. Our silence is. Our complacency is. Our failure to demand more from our own is.

Arewa must stop being outraged and start being organised. Let’s stop shouting at the walls in Aso Rock and start challenging and demanding answers from the many “leaders” in Arewa who have sat in power for decades. Let us stop externalising blame and start building capacity. Let us stop expecting equity from others while denying our own people the dignity of good governance.

As Governor Uba Sani said during the two-day interactive session hosted in Kaduna by the Ahamdu Bello Memorial Foundation, Northern leaders should take the blame. No one has been speaking for the last 20 years, if we don’t take serious action, we may soon not have a region called Northern Nigeria.