By Hon. Kenneth Gbandi
This is not about morality, nor about whom Senator Adams Oshiomhole chooses to engage with in public displays of affection or romance. It is about survival, the survival of a generation whose future is being stolen in broad daylight, yet is left struggling even to find the strength to fight for it.
The recent video of Senator Adams Oshiomhole aboard a private jet, wrapped in a moment of public intimacy, may eventually fade into just another episode of social media entertainment, a fleeting clip for laughter and gossip. But in truth, it is something far more troubling: a mirror held up to the soul of a nation in distress.
It reflects a country where the majority are merely managing to survive, while a privileged political elite live far removed from the consequences of their decisions, watching Nigeria unfold like a distant global cinema.
In a nation where inflation has eaten wages to the bone, where taxation is imposed without corresponding public value, and where young people migrate not out of ambition but sheer desperation, such images are not harmless optics. They are statements. Loud ones.
The tragedy is not merely that a public servant flew a private jet far beyond what his legitimate income can justify. The deeper tragedy is that in Nigeria, this has become normal, expected even, while millions cannot afford basic healthcare, education, or transportation. Under APC rule, Nigerians are told to tighten their belts, while political elites loosen theirs, sustaining lavish lifestyles through a system that weaponizes poverty and thrives on nepotistic manipulation.
What should have provoked national outrage instead becomes the usual entertainment. A few days of online debate. A few partisan defenses. Then silence.
Elsewhere, leadership carries consequences. In Germany, a senior Archbishop resigned after being found to have crossed a red traffic light with a blood alcohol level only slightly above the legal limit. A Minister of the Interior stepped down after being ticketed for cycling on the wrong side of the road and challenging the police. The issue was not criminality or breaking the rules alone, but about responsibility, leadership and example.
In the United Kingdom, a prince was stripped of his royal privileges over involvement in a pedophilia scandal, and a senior parliamentarian resigned his seat over similar allegations. In the United States, prosecutors routinely resign rather than compromise the integrity of their office by doing the political bidding of a sitting president.
In these societies, public trust though imperfect, is still treated as sacred. Public office remains a burden, not a license to corruptly misuse the commonwealth.
In Nigeria, however, scandal is often rewarded. Traditional titles are conferred in villages. National honours like the GCON are handed out at the federal level. Private jets ferry officials to France, Dubai, London, or Washington for “cooling off,” while the scandals linger and the masses are left to fight one another over ethnic loyalties, party symbols, and recycled propaganda.
This is how a stolen future is normalized. The Nigerian political elite have perfected a system where poverty is not an accident, but a tool used to divide, distract, and dominate. When citizens are exhausted by hunger, insecurity, and daily survival, accountability becomes a luxury they are no longer afforded.
And so, we must ask: how long shall this go on? How long will a nation of over 200 million people accept governance that openly mocks their suffering? How long will we mistake endurance for patience, and silence for consent?
The truth is uncomfortable, but unavoidable: 2027 will either be a watershed or another wasted opportunity. It will mark the moment when Nigerians at home and in the diaspora finally decide to reclaim their future, or it will confirm that this generation has surrendered its moment to history.
There may not be another window. Every generation is confronted with a choice to actualize its aspirations, or to quietly bury them. This is not a call for anger; we have exhausted that path many times over. It is a call for clarity. A call for the diaspora to support citizen-led initiatives such as vote protection and electoral petitions. A call for our intellectuals, town unions, students, market men and women to demand the passage of meaningful electoral reforms.
Nations do not collapse overnight. They decay slowly when abnormality becomes routine, and injustice is laughed off as content.
The private jet of Senator Adams Oshiomhole is not the story of one man. It is the story of a system that many continue to believe are untouchable.
Hon. Kenneth Gbandi; Diaspora Leader; Policy Advocate; Voice for Homeland Accountability
