The first duty of a political elite is guardianship of the people, history, and the fragile covenant between trust and leadership. Yet the unfolding tragedy in Kogi State, particularly in the East, reveals a political aristocracy consumed not by collective purpose but by internecine warfare. The question is no longer whether disunity is costly; it is how much more damage the region can absorb before its destiny is completely hijacked.
At the centre of this fracture lies a painful reality: when shepherds quarrel, the wolves do not merely watch they advance. Kogi East’s political class, once the custodians of a proud Igala heritage, now appears locked in bitter competition, personal vendettas, and ego-driven fiefdoms. Instead of a united front, the people are confronted by fragmented camps trading accusations while the forces they should be resisting grow bolder, stronger, and more entrenched.
“Power,” Nelson Mandela warned, “is not given freely; it is taken by those who are united in purpose.” His words reverberates across Igala land today, where purpose has been replaced with posturing. The region’s adversaries internal and external have mastered the art of exploiting division. And every quarrel among Igala elites becomes an open invitation for political wolves to feast.
The heart of the crisis lies not in a lack of capacity but in a lack of cohesion. Kogi East has the numbers, the cultural depth, and the intellectual capital to shape the political trajectory of Kogi State. But all of that potential is neutralized when leaders act like separate kingdoms rather than custodians of a shared destiny. It is this fragmentation that has allowed political manipulation, marginalization, and systematic erosion of influence to thrive.
The wolves did not become powerful overnight. They grew in the shadows of discord. They advanced whenever political leaders chose personal supremacy over collective survival. They gained ground every time a political elder weaponized silence, every time a new aspirant fought for office not as a servant but as a conqueror, every time unity became a casualty of ambition.
As the Igala proverb warns, “when the sky refuses harmony, the earth suffers the flood.”
Kogi East is currently carrying that flood.
The deep reality is stark: those who should shield the people have become the source of vulnerability. Those who should negotiate strength have become architects of weakness. Decamping is now trending. Again, those who should restore order have instead opened the gate for the very forces that seek to diminish the region’s political standing.
The consequences are visible; diminished bargaining power, the loss of strategic offices, rising insecurity in rural communities, and a generation of young people increasingly disillusioned with a political class that cannot agree on even the basics of self-preservation. The wolves are not just political opponents; they include bandits, opportunists, ethnic entrepreneurs, and power blocs that thrive where leadership is divided.
Leadership, as John C. Maxwell once stated, “fails when ego replaces responsibility.” In Kogi East today, responsibility must urgently reclaim its throne. The Igala nation cannot afford another cycle of fragmentation while others consolidate. The time has come for an elite ceasefire; a moment of truth where political actors surrender pride, align purpose, and reclaim their ancestral duty.
Unity is not sentimental rhetoric; it is strategic survival. The future of Kogi East depends on a coalition of conscience, anchored on truth, history, and collective courage. If the region must rise again, its leaders must choose cooperation over conflict, wisdom over ego, and people over pride.
Because when shepherds quarrel, the wolves do not pause instead they rule.
– Inah Boniface Ocholi writes from Ayah – Igalamela/Odolu LGA, Kogi state.
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