End of an era: Remembering Godwin Obaseki
By: Osehobo Ofure Victor
This weekend and in what can only best be described as the lamentation of a drowning man bereft of straws to grasp, former Governor Godwin Obaseki’s outburst over the impending inauguration of Senator Monday Okpebholo exposes the final chapter of a sadist and serial betrayer.
The wailing Obaseki’s fury, laced with claims of “stolen mandates” and accusations that protocol has been disregarded, reflects the anguish of a man seeing the symptoms of a bleak future out of power and the end of his ignoble reign. Ironically his wailing has only just begun; indeed, from obvious indications, he will lament for a long time.
Mr Obaseki’s lament is not surprising, coming from a man who turned against everyone who helped him rise. His record is punctuated by treachery and conflict, leaving a trail of disillusioned allies and failed relationships in his wake.
First, he betrayed Comrade Adams Oshiomhole, the very person who stood by him and endorsed him for the governorship. Then, once he took office, Obaseki sought to dismantle the very structures that had supported him, attempting to stamp out any voices that did not align with his narrative.
Obaseki’s tenure was thus marked by vendettas and petty wars, isolating him in a state where he once was relevant.
The depths of this man’s destructive tendencies are most visible in the state’s infrastructural landscape which he demolished. The self-proclaimed champion of Edo’s future, destroyed the iconic Central Hospital in Benin City, a legacy healthcare institution serving Edo people for over a century, to make way for a private museum bearing his personal stamp.
He showed little regard for history, health, or the common good. Similarly, the historic Edo State Library, a signpost of learning and a refuge for students and researchers, was reduced to rubble under his watch—only to be replaced by a supermarket. These actions epitomized his disdain for Edo’s legacy and heritage, replacing public resources with personal projects and commercial ventures that serve few. Need I say more?
Now, he bemoans that he was not “invited” to the inauguration and claims he “does not know” the details of the ceremony. His complaints about decorum and legality ring hollow. The Nigeria constitution he suddenly fell in love with and now cites is clear in its democratic provision for the peaceful transition of power.
His grievance that the incoming administration is behaving “as if they are starting a brand-new state.” This cry only highlights his fear that his successor, Senator Okpebholo, will undo his mistakes and restore what he dismantled.
Mr Obaseki’s remarks reveal his desperation as he grasps at remnants of control, seeking relevance where he has been rendered obsolete. His attempts to paint the inauguration as a procedural anomaly show an embarrassing lack of grace.
For a man who once wielded power, he appears unable to acknowledge the democratic will of Edo people—a people who have decisively chosen Senator Okpebholo over the failed policies and controversies that defined Obaseki’s tenure.
Ultimately, Obaseki’s bitterness is a reflection of his failures. The voices of Edo’s people have spoken; they see a leader in Senator Monday Okpebholo, who will build and uplift, not demolish and subdue. Obaseki, standing on the sidelines or in faraway Lagos, where he resides, must now watch as a new era unfolds—one that respects Edo people, value their legacy, and seek to heal the divisions he created.
His lamentations will continue, for the people of Edo have moved on, leaving him to ponder his choices in loneliness, with no one left to blame but himself.