The White Lion’s Enduring Roar: A Legacy of Power in Kogi State

By Philip Akanni

The eight-year tenure of Alhaji Yahaya Adoza Bello as the governor of Kogi State, which ended in January 2024, was one of the most controversial periods in the state’s history. From the moment he took office in 2016, his administration was dogged by persistent allegations of large-scale corruption and a systematic dismantling of democratic institutions. Critics consistently pointed to a single, recurring issue that defined his leadership: a total absence of the separation of powers.

A Kingdom, Not a Republic
In a political landscape where checks and balances are paramount, Bello’s administration was widely described as a monarchy. The metaphorical “Kogi Kingdom” was a reality for many, as both the judiciary and the legislature appeared to become mere appendages of the governor’s office. Bills were reportedly passed without genuine debate, and the judiciary’s independence was said to have been compromised—creating an environment where the governor’s will was law. This consolidation of power led to a centralized, autocratic style of governance that left little room for dissent or democratic process.

Even after a governor’s term ends, there is an expectation of a natural transition of authority, allowing a new leader to establish their own vision. However, a recent video that went viral across social media has demonstrated that this is not the case in Kogi. The footage shows the former governor addressing members of the Kogi State House of Assembly in a manner many found deeply unsettling.

The Emperor’s Public Command
In the video, Yahaya Bello is seen and heard giving clear instructions to the state’s lawmakers. He orders them to “cooperate” with his handpicked successor, Governor Ahmed Usman Ododo, and to pass all bills placed before them without delay or hindrance. To drive home his point, the former governor pulls on one of his ears—a gesture that, for many, serves as a powerful symbol of his unyielding authority and a stark warning that his instructions must be followed to the letter.

This public display of command has sent a clear message: Bello may no longer hold the title of governor, but he remains the undisputed power behind the throne. For many, this has confirmed their worst fears about the state of democracy in Kogi. It has revealed a political system that is a disheartening facade, where true power lies not with the elected officials, but with an “Emperor Emeritus.”

A Transition of Contradictions
The transition to Governor Ahmed Usman Ododo has been met with a mix of reactions. On one hand, many have voiced deep apprehension about the influence of the former governor on his protégé, worrying about what this enduring shadow government will mean for the future of the state. They fear that the “White Lion’s” grip on the state apparatus will prevent any genuine change or reform.

On the other hand, a curious paradox has emerged. Governor Ododo has received praise for his performance in his early months in office. However, this praise is often accompanied by skepticism. Naysayers are quick to attribute any perceived success to the recent increased federal allocations to the state, arguing that Ododo is simply benefiting from a larger budget rather than from any true administrative prowess or independence.

Regardless of the competing narratives, the reality for many in Kogi remains the same. The state is experiencing a governance model that is a pseudonym in the garb of democracy. What is truly in place is the Kingdom of Kogi, with its ultimate authority residing not in Lugard House, but with His Royal Majesty, the White Lion—Emperor Emeritus.