By Israel Adebiyi

It is my sincere hope that by now, the wives of the 21 local government chairmen of Adamawa State are safely back from their exotic voyage to Istanbul, Turkey, a trip reportedly bankrolled by the local government finances under the umbrella of the Association of Local Governments of Nigeria (ALGON). A journey, we are told, designed to “empower” them with leadership skills. It’s the kind of irony that defines our political culture, an expensive parade of privilege masquerading as governance.

But that is what happens when providence smiles on an ill-prepared man: he loses every sense of decorum, perspective, and sanity.

I am reminded of a neighbour from nearly two decades ago, a simple man who earned his living as a welder in a bustling corner of Alagbado, in Lagos. One day, fortune smiled on him. The details of how it happened are less important than the aftermath. Overnight, this humble tradesman was thrust into wealth he never imagined. His first response was to remodel his one-room face-me-I-face-you apartment. He then bought crates of beverages for his wife to start a small trade. Nights became movie marathons, days were spent entertaining friends and living large. Within a short while, both the beverages and the money were gone. The family consumed what was meant to be sold, and before long, they were back to where they began, broke and disillusioned.

That, in many ways, mirrors the tragedy of Nigerian leadership. It’s the poverty mindset in leadership.

The story of my neighbour is a microcosm of the Nigerian political elite, particularly at the subnational level. When sudden riches come, wisdom departs. When opportunity presents itself, greed takes over. In the past years, since the removal of fuel subsidy and the subsequent fiscal windfall that followed, all levels of governments, particularly both state and local governments have found themselves with more resources than they have had in over a decade. Yet, rather than invest in ideas that would stimulate production, jobs, and infrastructure, what we have witnessed is an epidemic of frivolities, unnecessary travels, wasteful seminars, inflated projects, and reckless spending.

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Across the country, the story is similar: councils and states spending like drunken sailors. Suddenly, workshops in Dubai, leadership retreats in Turkey, and empowerment programs that empower nobody have become the order of the day. The sad reality is that many of these leaders lack the intellectual depth, managerial capacity, and moral restraint to translate resources into development. Their worldview is transactional, not transformational.

Nigeria’s tragedy is not the absence of resources; it is the misplacement of priorities. Across the states, billions are allocated to vanity projects that contribute little or nothing to the people’s quality of life. Roads are constructed without drainages and collapse at the first rainfall. Hospitals are built without doctors, and schools are renovated without teachers. Governors commission streetlights in communities without power supply. Council chairmen purchase SUVs in towns where people still fetch water from muddy streams. This is not governance; it is pageantry.

The problem is rooted in a poverty mindset, a mentality that sees power not as a platform for service but as an opportunity for consumption. Like the welder who squandered his windfall, our leaders are more preoccupied with display than development. They seek validation through possessions and patronage. They confuse spending with productivity. After all, these guarantee their re-election and political relevance.

Take for instance, the proliferation of “empowerment” schemes across states and local governments. Millions are spent distributing grinding machines, hair dryers, and tricycles, symbolic gestures that make headlines but solve nothing. In a state where industrial capacity is non-existent and education is underfunded, these programs are nothing but political theatre.

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Part of the reason for this recurring tragedy is the near absence of accountability. At every level of government, public scrutiny has been deliberately weakened. The legislature, which should act as a check on executive excesses, has become a willing accomplice. Most state assemblies now function as mere extensions of the governor’s office. Their loyalty is not to the constitution or the people, but to the whims of the man who controls their allowances. When oversight is dead, impunity thrives.

The same is true at the local government level. The councils, which should be the closest tier of governance to the people, have become mere revenue distribution centres. Their budgets are inflated with cosmetic projects, while core community needs – clean water, rural roads, primary healthcare, and education – remain neglected. In most states, local governments have been stripped of autonomy, no thanks to the governors, and turned into cash dispensers for political godfathers.

A functioning democracy depends on the ability of citizens and institutions to demand explanations from those in power. Unfortunately, Nigeria has normalised a culture of unaccountability. We applaud mediocrity, celebrate looters, and reward failure with re-election.

Leadership without vision is like a vehicle without direction, fast-moving but going nowhere. Our leaders often mistake motion for progress. A road contract here, a stadium renovation there, a new office complex somewhere, yet the fundamental problems remain untouched.

When a government cannot define its priorities, it becomes reactive, not proactive. It responds to crises rather than preventing them. The consequence is that we keep recycling poverty in the midst of plenty.

Consider the fate of many oil-producing states that have earned hundreds of billions from the 13 percent derivation fund. Despite their enormous earnings, the communities remain among the poorest in the federation. The roads are not just bad but are deathtraps, the schools dilapidated, and the hospitals understaffed. The money vanished into white-elephant projects and political patronage networks.

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Visionary leadership is not about having a title or holding an office; it is about seeing beyond the immediate and investing in the future. It is about building systems that outlive individuals. Sadly, most of our leaders are incapable of such long-term thinking because they are trapped in the psychology of survival, not sustainability.

There is a proverb that says: “The foolish man who finds gold in the morning will be poor again by evening.” That proverb could have been written for Nigeria. Each time fortune presents us with an opportunity, whether through oil booms, debt relief, or global trade openings, we squander it in consumption and corruption.

The subsidy removal windfall was meant to be a moment of reckoning, a chance to redirect resources to development, improve infrastructure, and alleviate poverty. Instead, it has become another tragic chapter in our national story, a story of squandered wealth and wasted potential.

When money becomes available without the corresponding capacity to manage it, it breeds recklessness. Suddenly, every council wants a new secretariat. Every governor wants to build a new airport or flyovers that lead to nowhere. The tragedy is not in the availability of money but in the absence of vision to channel it productively.

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Nigeria does not lack bright minds; it lacks systems that compel responsibility. What we need is a new civic consciousness that demands accountability from those in power. Citizens must begin to interrogate budgets, question policies, and reject tokenism. Civil society must reclaim its watchdog role. The media must rise above “he said, he said” journalism and focus on investigative and developmental reporting that exposes waste and corruption.

Equally, the legislature must rediscover its purpose. Lawmakers are not meant to be praise singers or contract brokers. They are the custodians of democracy, empowered to question, probe, and restrain executive recklessness. Until they reclaim that role, governance will remain an exercise in futility.

The solution also lies in leadership development. Leadership should no longer be an accident of chance or patronage; it must be a deliberate cultivation of character, competence, and capacity. The tragedy of sudden riches is avoidable if leaders are adequately prepared to handle responsibility.

Ultimately, the change we seek is not just in policy but in mindset. Nigeria must confront the culture of consumption and replace it with a culture of productivity. We must move from short-term gratification to long-term investment, from vanity projects to value creation, from self-aggrandizement to service.

Every generation has its defining moment. Ours is the opportunity to rethink governance and rebuild trust. The tragedy of sudden riches can become the triumph of sustainable wealth, but only if we learn to manage fortune with foresight.

Until that happens, the Adamawa wives will keep travelling, the chairmen will keep spending, and the people will keep waiting for dividends that never come.