In the aftermath of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s newly announced ambassadorial appointments, a fresh wave of national unease has swept across Nigeria. What should have been a sober exercise in projecting the country’s best diplomatic image has, instead, crystallized deep anxieties about the administration’s priorities. Critics argue that these appointments “elevate political urchins and social media noise-makers,” as one analyst bluntly put it, rather than individuals of proven competence or moral steadiness.
The controversy reached fever pitch when figures such as Reno Omokri and Femi Fani-Kayode appeared on the list. For many Nigerians, these names evoke a familiar pattern; i mean one in which loyalty is rewarded over leadership, theatrics over thoughtfulness, and political utility over intellectual substance. One critic lamented that the president has embraced “money-grubbing, boot-licking, genocide-denying sycophants who flip-flop on issues of substance on command.”
Such statements, however dramatic, reflect a genuine sentiment simmering across the country: that these appointments embody a troubling disregard for the dignity of Nigeria’s diplomatic institutions.
Professors of political science have described the moment as “a regression of statecraft,” arguing that the presidency appears increasingly unmoved by the deeper symbolic weight of diplomacy. One academic observed, “Ambassadors are the nation’s face to the world. When the political class treats these positions as consolation prizes for partisan performers, the signal Nigeria sends is not merely confusing—it is corrosive.”
The language from ordinary Nigerians has been even less restrained. Some argue that the president’s actions suggest a leader “tone deaf—indeed deaf, dumb, and blind,” as one citizen phrased it in a widely shared critique. While the phrasing is unkind, the sentiment reflects real frustration: that the president is insulated from the consequences of choices that undermine both national unity and international credibility.
Equally unsettling is the moral message these appointments appear to send to younger generations. Many parents and educators fear that the country is teaching its children a grim civics lesson: that advancement is no longer tethered to merit, discipline, or integrity. As one commentator put it, “To advance in Nigeria today, the first step is to sell your soul and abandon any hint of honour.” If not how can social media political bandits recieves such presidential blessings?
This type of public despair so raw, emotional, and unfiltered, should trouble any serious observer of Nigerian politics. Whether or not one agrees with the rhetoric, the depth of the anger signals a profound erosion of trust in public institutions. And trust, once fractured, is not easily repaired.
The global community is also watching. Diplomatic circles quietly note that ambassadorial appointments often serve as bellwethers of a nation’s political maturity. When countries elevate individuals with questionable public reputations, the world takes note, not simply of the people appointed, but of the values their selection reveals.
Some critics go so far as to argue that the latest appointments confirm, “beyond a shadow of a doubt,” that the country’s leadership is in moral free fall. Such absolute declarations are, of course, part of the passionate landscape of opinion. Yet their intensity underscores the widening gulf between the governed and those who govern.
Nigeria deserved, at minimum, a moment of statesmanship; an opportunity to project competence, unity, and renewed national seriousness. Instead, the nation finds itself grappling with a controversy of the government’s own making.
And as the dust settles, one question hangs heavily in the air, echoing from classrooms to editorial rooms to embassies abroad:
What vision of Nigeria does this administration truly wish to present to the world?
– Inah Boniface Ocholi writes from Ayah – Igalamela/Odolu LGA, Kogi state.
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