The political drama in Rivers State has reached a crescendo, echoing the timeless Igbo adage and Oliver De Coque’s classic: Osondi Owendi—what delights some, deeply pains others. In the oil-rich heart of the Niger Delta, the fallout from a bitter feud between Governor Siminalayi Fubara and his erstwhile godfather, FCT Minister Nyesom Wike, has left many in the state suspended between hope and heartbreak.
On March 18, 2025, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu declared a six-month state of emergency in Rivers State, a rare and drastic intervention prompted by spiraling political and security crises.
The immediate triggers: a House of Assembly set ablaze, threats of impeachment, and a state government locked in open warfare with itself.
The President, Bola Ahmed Tinubu, suspended Governor Fubara, his deputy Prof. Ngozi Odu, and all members of the State Assembly, appointing retired Vice Admiral Ibok-Ete Ibas as Sole Administrator to restore order.
This move was not without controversy. Supporters of Fubara, who had rallied under the banner of the Simplified Movement, saw the suspension as a coup against popular will.
For months, Rivers was governed not by its elected leaders but by an appointed administrator, deepening the sense of disenfranchisement among many citizens.
At the heart of the crisis was the spectacular falling-out between Fubara and Wike. Once political allies, their relationship soured over control of the state’s political machinery. The rift split the PDP in Rivers, polarized the Assembly, and paralyzed governance.
Wike’s loyalists in the Assembly even claimed to have extended the tenures of local government chairmen, a move fiercely contested by Fubara’s camp and ultimately nullified by the courts.
Last week Saturday, in a scene that stunned observers, Fubara and Wike appeared together at the burial of Wike’s uncle in Port Harcourt—just hours after a late-night peace meeting brokered by President Tinubu in Abuja.
The two men, “father and son,” along with the Speaker Martins Amaewhule and other Assembly members loyal to Wike, publicly embraced reconciliation.
Governor Fubara, addressing his supporters, urged them to accept the peace deal, describing it as a necessary sacrifice for the greater good of Rivers State.
He ordered the Simplified Movement to cease political operations, insisting that “there is no price too big for peace” and that unity was essential to rescue the state from prolonged stagnation.
Wike echoed the sentiment, declaring the feud “finally concluded” and calling on all factions to work together.
For Fubara’s grassroots supporters, the peace is bittersweet. Many feel betrayed by what they perceive as capitulation to Wike’s terms, after months of risking personal safety and political capital to defend their governor.
The abrupt dissolution of the Simplified Movement is seen as a silencing of their voice, and some fear exclusion from the new power-sharing arrangement.
Conversely, Wike’s camp is jubilant. For them, the truce marks the restoration of order and the return of their leader’s influence.
They see the peace as a necessary step for resuming stalled development and democratic governance, and a vindication of Wike’s political strategy.
The Rivers political conundrum remains a classic case of Osondi Owendi. Peace has returned, but at a price that leaves many questioning the cost of compromise.
As the state awaits the end of emergency rule and the restoration of its democratic institutions, the challenge will be to ensure that reconciliation is not just for the powerful, but for all Rivers people.
In the words of Governor Fubara: “It’s about the overall interest of the state.” Yet, as Rivers navigates this uneasy peace, the question lingers: whose interests will truly be served? For now, some rejoice, others mourn—osondi owendi indeed.
