Politics, by its nature, thrives on disagreement. But when disagreement festers into sabotage, it ceases to be politics and becomes poison. The Rivers Assembly must choose dialogue over destruction, statesmanship over strife
By Amieyeofori Ibim
The Rivers State House of Assembly has reconvened, not merely as a chamber of lawmakers, but as an institution haunted by its own shadow. For six months, the state endured an emergency rule born of factional warfare, a legislature split against itself, and a people left voiceless in the storm. The Assembly returns now with a choice: to heal, or to wound itself further.
The counsel of OCJ Okocha, Senior Advocate of Nigeria, comes like the voice of conscience in this fraught moment. He has urged reconciliation, forgiveness, and a return to duty. It is a counsel as old as democracy itself, for no assembly can endure when rancor is its heartbeat.
But will they listen? For too long, the Rivers legislature has behaved not as a temple of lawmaking, but as an arena of combat. The names Amaehule, Ehie, Oko-Jumbo — once the surnames of colleagues — became banners under which rival camps waged war. Allegations flew, chambers shook, and the very edifice of governance trembled.
What dignity is left when lawmakers trade gavels for cudgels of vendetta? What honour remains when those elected to speak for the people silence one another in bitter suspensions? Democracy cannot thrive where legislators confuse vengeance for vigilance.
Amaehule’s faction, Ehie’s resignation, Oko-Jumbo’s elevation, until the Supreme Court ruling and then, the big stick, six months suspension — these were not milestones of statesmanship but markers of fracture. Instead of binding wounds, they deepened scars. Instead of summoning unity, they entrenched division. The Assembly became a house divided, a broken mirror reflecting only discord.
And yet, reconciliation remains possible. To forgive is not to forget, but to refuse to be shackled by yesterday’s grudges. To reconcile is not to capitulate, but to rise above ego for the sake of the state. This is the wisdom in Okocha’s plea: “Let bygones be bygones.”
The suspended members must be restored. Edison Ehie, Sokari Goodboy, Victor Oko-Jumbo, and Adolphus Timothy represent not merely themselves but constituencies that cannot be erased from the democratic map. To keep them out is to silence the people who entrusted them with voice. And democracy dies, first, in silence.
The Assembly must also remember that the governor is no enemy to be subdued, but a partner in the architecture of governance. The governor is the chief executive, the custodian of security, the bearer of the people’s mandate. A legislature that seeks to impeach without just cause does not strengthen democracy — it undermines it, and in undermining it, it diminishes itself.
The attempted impeachment of Governor Fubara was a reckless misadventure. It invited chaos, it provoked intervention, and it stained the Assembly’s reputation. That episode must now serve as a warning etched in memory: power abused is power diminished.
The people of Rivers State wait still, weary of politics as theater. Their hunger is not for drama but for governance. They yearn for laws that ease their burdens, for oversight that curbs corruption, for policies that uplift their lives. They did not elect warriors; they elected representatives.
History has its pen poised. It will record whether this House was a council of statesmen or a conclave of combatants. It will remember whether they mended what was broken or tore it beyond repair. And history is not kind to those who squander moments of redemption.
Politics, by its nature, thrives on disagreement. But when disagreement festers into sabotage, it ceases to be politics and becomes poison. The Rivers Assembly must choose dialogue over destruction, statesmanship over strife.
This House belongs not to Amaehule, not to Ehie, not to Oko-Jumbo. It belongs to Rivers people, who sent forth their sons and daughters to speak for them, not to war in their name. To betray that trust is to court political oblivion.
Okocha’s counsel is more than advice; it is a last chance at redemption. To embrace reconciliation is to restore credibility, stability, and dignity. To reject it is to remain mired in pettiness, to reduce a noble institution to a caricature.
The Assembly stands at the crossroads. One road leads to healing, to collaboration, to governance. The other, to self-destruction. Rivers people watch, Nigeria watches, history watches. The lawmakers must choose. And they must choose wisely.
_Amieyeofori Ibim is a seasoned Journalist, political analyst and public affairs commentator._
ibimdarlinton@gmail.com
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