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By Chukwudi Abiandu

There are moments in the life of a nation when what matters is not the identity of the speaker but the gravity of what has been said. Peter Obi’s recent expression of concern that he could be assassinated before the 2027 election should have provoked sober reflection, not political mockery. Whether one agrees with his politics or not is beside the point. Whether one intends to vote for him or not is equally irrelevant. The proper response in any democracy is simple: every citizen, and certainly, every major political actor, deserves protection, not ridicule.

Nigeria’s democratic journey has been too bloody, too turbulent and too scarred by politically motivated violence for anyone occupying public office to casually dismiss such fears.

That is why the response credited to presidential spokesman Bayo Onanuga, dismissing Obi’s fears as an attempt to attract sympathy, was deeply troubling. Public communication from those who speak for governments ought to reassure citizens, lower political tensions and inspire confidence in state institutions. It should never appear indifferent to fears touching on life and personal safety. A spokesman is not merely defending a government; he is also communicating the humanity of that government.

Even if one believes Peter Obi exaggerated his fears, the more statesmanlike response would have been to assure him, and indeed every Nigerian, that the government has a constitutional duty to protect all citizens irrespective of political affiliation. That would have strengthened democracy. That would have inspired confidence. That would have reflected humanity. Instead, many Nigerians were left debating whether compassion itself has become a casualty of our politics. The issue extends far beyond one politician or one spokesman.

Nigeria has gradually cultivated a dangerous political culture where opponents are no longer merely disagreed with; they are demonised. Every statement is interpreted through partisan lenses. Every complaint is dismissed as propaganda. Every warning is treated as political theatre. In such an atmosphere, reason becomes the first casualty.

Across the world, history reminds us that political violence is neither imaginary nor unprecedented. Democracies have witnessed assassinations, assassination attempts and politically motivated killings that altered the course of nations. Nigeria is no exception.

Etim Etim was spot on in his article “Political assassination: should we take Peter Obi seriously?” The issue he raised about our own history should make every responsible leader cautious. Chief Bola Ige, then Attorney-General and Minister of Justice, was murdered in December 2001 inside his Ibadan residence. His killers have never been brought to justice. Dr. Marshall Harry, National Vice Chairman of the All Nigeria Peoples Party (ANPP), was assassinated in Abuja in 2003. Chief Aminasoari Dikibo, then PDP National Vice Chairman (South-South), was murdered in 2004 while travelling through Delta State. Chief Funsho Williams, one of Lagos’ leading governorship aspirants, was brutally killed in his own home in 2006. Otunba Dipo Dina, an Action Congress governorship candidate in Ogun State, was abducted and murdered in 2010 after returning from a political meeting. During the tense build-up to the 2011 elections, Senator John James Akpanudoedehe narrowly escaped death when his convoy came under attack in Akwa Ibom, while several others suffered injuries. These are not rumours. They are painful chapters in Nigeria’s democratic history. Neither are they isolated episodes.

Only a few months ago, there were reports of an attack on Peter Obi’s convoy in Benin City after a political event. Competing narratives emerged regarding the circumstances, but the incident itself reminded Nigerians that political tensions can escalate dangerously and that the safety of political actors should never be taken lightly. Whether every attack is politically motivated is for investigators, not commentators to determine.

But history alone should teach restraint. It should teach empathy. It should teach caution. It should teach those entrusted with public communication that dismissing fears about personal safety is neither wise nor necessary.

One disturbing feature of Nigerian politics today is the readiness of partisan loyalists to reduce every issue to victory or defeat. When an opposition politician speaks, the instinct is not to evaluate the substance of the complaint but to destroy the credibility of the complainant.

When a political party begins to gather momentum, attention often shifts almost immediately to narratives, controversies and legal battles surrounding that party. Nigeria has recently witnessed intense litigations involving opposition platforms such as the ADC and, more recently, the NDC. The merits of those legal disputes remain for the courts to determine, but the broader lesson is that our political environment has become increasingly combative, leaving many citizens with the perception that politics is evolving into a permanent battlefield rather than a contest of ideas. That perception alone should concern every democrat.

Democracy cannot flourish where suspicion replaces trust and hostility replaces civility. Political competition should produce superior ideas, not superior bitterness.

Power should never become so intoxicating that human compassion disappears. This is where the timeless words of Jesus Christ deserve careful reflection. In Mark 8:36 and Matthew 16:26, He asked: “For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?”

The question transcends religion. It is an enduring moral challenge to every generation. What does political victory profit anyone if it costs honesty, empathy, fairness and conscience? What is the value of holding public office if compassion has evaporated?What is the purpose of defending power if, in doing so, one loses the ability to recognise another person’s legitimate fears? Politics should never demand the sacrifice of humanity.

The Prophet Jeremiah offers another sobering lesson in Jeremiah 17:11, comparing dishonest gain to a partridge that sits on eggs it did not lay. Eventually, the eggs do not hatch, and the bird is left with nothing but disappointment and shame. The metaphor is timeless. Political advantage secured through unfairness, cruelty or the corrosion of truth ultimately brings neither honour nor lasting peace.

History is remarkably unforgiving. Governments change. Political parties rise and fall. Power shifts. But character remains. Words endure. History remembers not only what leaders did but also how they treated those who disagreed with them.

This is why those who occupy public office and those privileged to speak on behalf of government must measure their words carefully. Their responsibility extends beyond political combat. They are custodians of public confidence. They should calm anxieties, not inflame them. They should defend institutions, not deepen divisions. They should elevate public discourse, not diminish it.

The lesson from Nigeria’s tragic history is simple. Political violence should never become normal. Threats against politicians should never be trivialised. Expressions of fear should never become opportunities for partisan point-scoring.

Every political actor, whether in government or opposition, deserves equal protection under the Constitution. That is the true test of democracy. For if politics succeeds in stripping us of our humanity, then victory itself becomes the greatest defeat.

• Chukwudi Abiandu, political analyst and commentator writes from Asaba.