Esson Kpason

Pharmacist, Public Health Specialist, Proud Husband / Loving Father and Nigerian Patriot

[Pat Utomi @UtomiPat]

Dickson, Obi, Kwankwaso have a historic opportunity not because they are special but because providence may have decided to grease the machine of Nigeria’s democracy through their partnership. They have a duty to posterity to keep their eyes on the ball. This is how men are made

[Peter Obi @PeterObi]

Dear beloved sports-loving Nigerian youths,

After watching the performances of Davido, Burna Boy, and Rema at the opening of the 2026 World Cup—at a time when Nigeria, the giant of Africa, is absent—I felt a measure of consolation. This was reinforced by the fact that many Nigerians playing for clubs worldwide are representing other countries. Felix Nmecha, for instance, set a record by scoring the fastest goal at six minutes for Germany. I write to you therefore, knowing that this country belongs to you, the youth.

You are more of stakeholders in Nigeria’s future than I am. I am 64 years old; by God’s grace, much of my journey is behind me, while yours lies ahead.

It is therefore imperative that you rise to the challenge by obtaining your PVC, your most powerful tool for driving the change you desire.

In the last three years alone, over 15 million Nigerians have turned 18—enough to decide who becomes President, Governor, Senator, Member of the House, or Local Government Chairman. Indeed, enough to shape the nation’s future.

I know many of you are sceptical about politics and political parties. I understand why, but scepticism must not become surrender.

You do not need to belong to any party or wait for anyone to organise you. Organise yourselves in your streets, campuses, communities, workplaces, churches, mosques, and social groups. Mobilise, debate, demand accountability, and take part in choosing those you wish to entrust with leadership.

If you are organised and wish to hear directly from me, invite me. I will come and share my plans for you and our nation.

Do not sit on the sidelines while others decide your future.

I appeal to you to register and vote. Your vote can shape who becomes the next President of our country.

My young friends, this is your country. Take it back.

A New Nigeria is POssible. -PO

[BSAT Properties @BSAT_Properties]

Sued His University to the Supreme Court and Won ₦20,000,000!

Case: Victor v. F.U.T.A. (2026) 8 NWLR (Pt. 2044) 33

Imagine graduating, knowing your grades were wrongly calculated, but being handed a lower class of degree than you earned. Most students would accept "fate" and move on.

Mr. Adebayo A. Victor refused to back down.

What makes this story incredible? Victor was a layman (not a lawyer), yet he personally prosecuted this case through the entire hierarchy of courts for nearly two decades.

The 19-Year Battle for a 2:1
In 2007, Victor graduated in Mechanical Engineering from FUTA, receiving a Second Class Lower.

Convinced his scores were wrongly recorded, he spent four years begging the university to re-mark 10 specific courses. The university ignored him.

In 2011, he sued. The journey was brutal:
2013: The trial court dismissed his case on a technicality. Victor appealed and won a retrial.
2017: The High Court finally ordered FUTA to re-mark his scripts. FUTA refused and appealed.

2022: Under Supreme Court pressure, FUTA finally complied and re-marked the scripts.

The Plot Twist: Victor was right all along. The independent re-marking officially upgraded his degree to a Second Class Upper. His correct certificate was physically handed to him in open court at the Supreme Court.

The Supreme Court Defends Student Rights
With the degree secured, the Supreme Court turned its attention to the university’s conduct.

Led by Justice Helen Moronkeji Ogunwumiju, JSC, the apex court established a massive precedent:
The Duty of Care: While universities have academic autonomy, they owe a "Duty of Care" to their students. They must provide fair assessments and transparent complaint procedures.

The Penalty: By ignoring Victor for years and causing him to lose international scholarship opportunities, FUTA breached that duty.

The lower court had awarded Victor a mere ₦500,000. The Supreme Court threw that out as too small and reviewed the awards upward:
₦18,000,000 in General Damages for emotional distress.

₦2,000,000 in Litigation Costs.

Total Takeaway: Victor walked away with his rightful Second Class Upper degree and ₦20,000,000 in compensation.

The Big Insight
"Justice is not a fencing game where one party seeks to outsmart the other." Whether you run a university or a business, you cannot hide behind institutional bureaucracy to ignore legitimate complaints.

Huge respect to Mr. Adebayo Victor for his unmatched resilience!

Could you have held on for 15+ years to defend your academic rights? Let’s map it out in the comments!

© Law Parlor

[Sarki. @Waspapping_]

Hadi Sirika allegedly stole ₦2bn

Mele Kyari allegedly stole ₦210tn

Sadiya Farouq allegedly stole ₦38.7bn + $1.3m

Malami allegedly stole ₦256bn

All these guys are from the North where people are dying from insecurity & poverty

They are supposed to be our representatives

[Tunji @Tjdie9myte]

@Imranmuhdz

[Opeyemi Bóbagúnwà @okpapa01]

@Imranmuhdz For the financing, are they converting the existing Security Votes to financing state police or there's another funding for that separately?
On correctional activities, are the states police going to remand the accused in federal prisons?....

[Gimba Kakanda @gimbakakanda]

South Africans thought they would get away with bad behaviour on the Mexican pitch as they do kumhlaba wabo. Not today. More red cards, please. Bafanelwe yiyo. Enkosi, Mexico. 😂

[Oyiga Micheal @Nsukka_okpa]

Julián Quiñones was originally born in Columbia with Grand parents from Ghana and distant relatives from Nigeria.

Today he scored the first goal of the 2026 World Cup against South Africa..

This is football!!!

[Stunner @invertCucurella]

🚨JUST IN: Mikel Obi on Mexico vs South Africa fifa World Cup opener

"All Africans are supporting Mexico today! You know why? Because we want them[South Africa] to go home early to go and protect their jobs. If we support them they will say we are taking their jobs [laughs]

[On Obi Podcast]

[Sam Amadi @SamAmadi]

Message to Obidients

I have said that the Obidients are the greatest political resource for Nigeria’s political transformation.

Now, listen

Forget the primaries

Focus on driving @PeterObi to the presidency

30 good legislators would not change Nigeria

1 truly transformative President will change Nigeria.

Focus on Peter Obi. Support NDC. Get to work

[Gimba Kakanda @gimbakakanda]

A Black man scoring the first goal of the 2026 World Cup to silence the African continent’s most hostile nation towards Black foreigners is absolutely poetic. Thank you, Mexico! 🇲🇽

[👑 @coffeededo_o]

God bless him 🥹

[AFRICAN & BLACK HISTORY @AfricanArchives]

A family portrait of the Kings, 1939.

Clockwise: King Sr.; mother-in-law, Mrs. Jeannie C. Parks Williams; son Martin Luther King, Jr.; daughter, Christine; younger son, Alfred Daniel, and wife, Alberta Williams King.

[CandyLove🎀🍭 @DazylingQueen]

Emeka's wife called Emeka a fool.
Emeka got angry and said, I cannot be called a fool by a woman, not even my wife. She must therefore leave my house.

Neighbours intervened, and the matter was resolved. However, Emeka's wife still held on to her anger.

Later that night, it rained heavily. It was so cold that Emeka wanted to be close to his wife.

Sneaking his hand to touch his wife's lap in the dark, she shouted, Who is that fool¿
Emeka replied, "Na me." 😂😀

[Eastern Pulse @easternpulse1]

This video of American superstar Lizzo trying to sing an Igbo morning devotion song will forever be goated.

ASUSU IGBO AMAKA

[Motora99🚗🇧🇷🐓🏆🏆🏆 @Motora99]

Mulher pede aos País para mostrarem como se dançava nos anos 80 e esse foi o resultado:😍🥹

[Luce @lucyshow11]

Holy smokes! Imagine playing a round of poker with these dudes! Do you recognize all of them?! 😮‍💨🔥

[Greg Nwoko 🇳🇬🇳🇬🇳🇬🇳🇬🇳🇬🇳🇬🇳🇬🇳🇬 @nwoko_greg62705]

Jamaican reggae legend Jimmy Cliff was arrested and detained for three nights in Lagos, Nigeria, in December 1974.

The arrest stemmed from a civil lawsuit filed by a local music promoter, Alhaji R. Osi Ibrahim, who claimed Cliff breached a contract to bring him to Africa.

[Chimamanda❤️ @Chima_Obi1234]

NOTHING IS PERMANENT!
By Mr. Donald Duke

"When I See Public Office Holders Misbehaving, I Used To Have This Thought, "Probably They Do Not Have a Good Wife/Husband or a Good Marriage"

As governor, I was on call 24/7 sometimes.
I got very angry and could take my anger on anyone.

So, my chief of protocol bore the brunt one day.

I had a reception for guests and he placed them in rooms, not the way I would have done it, but he didn’t do anything wrong.
He used his own judgment.

I would have done it the other way, but I over reacted.
I spoke very harsh to him.

While I was doing this, my wife walked in and didn’t say a word.
She came in, did some other things in my office and left.

When I got back home in the evening, I’d forgotten about it. It’s just a normal event in the day.

My wife went on her knees in front of me, looked straight into my eyes like a penitent sinner and said, "The way you spoke to this guy was wrong and we have to go and apologise to him."
She said I had no reason to speak to anyone like that.
I said, "What! He did this..." and she interrupted me, "Yes, I heard everything.

"The way you would have done it was different, but he didn’t do a bad thing. He used his discretion. So, what are you going to do? You have destroyed his self esteem. Tomorrow, he is not going to do anything discretionally.
He would wait for orders and then you will get irritated at that. You have made him lose his self-confidence and that is wrong. You need to go and apologise to him. Why should you speak to someone like that? Because you are governor?"

I ignored her, stood up and went into the bedroom, still fuming. As she will always do if she wants to have her way, my wife followed me into the bedroom and went on her knees again to plead the cause of a man as if he had begged her to plead his case.
"You have to do it this night and not tomorrow" because I kept saying I would do it tomorrow.
Onarie, still on her knees and almost in tears, insisted and said, "No, tonight. That man is not going to sleep well and so you do not have the right to sleep well when he was not sleeping well."

Clearly defeated, I got into the car and we drove to his house.

His gate man froze when he discovered I was the one. In his confusion, he did not know how to properly open the gate till Onarie told him to take two deep breaths before attempting to open the door again!

We were ushered into the living room by an equally confused maid who had to stumble over chairs.

His wife turned in.
They were about to go to bed.
She was in her night gown.

She saw me and was scared with the expression of, ‘Okay, you have come to fire my husband finally’.
The guy came downstairs, petrified as my wife and I walked into the private living room.

The wife wanted to get up and leave.
I told the guy I came to apologise for my rude and harsh behaviour towards him and I told him am sorry.

They all got emotional but I got relieved.

It was like a heavy load had been taken off me.

I still get upset with things going up wrong, but I don’t get to a point I feel I am too big to say sorry.
And am learning to treat people better.

You can be referred to as "Your Excellency" today, but, for the best, it will only last eight years.
Senator?
Minister?
It is not forever!

Permanent Sec? It is still not permanent and we all know it's just a title and not a life long position.

Director?
CEO?
DG?
etc.

Life is a stage, a platform for services unto God.

So let everyone take heed. Forgive and have regard for Human beings"

[Ziyad Yakubu @Ziyad_yakubu]

There was a time in Nigeria when the man carrying a sewing machine on his shoulder was called Obioma.

Because almost all the artisanal tailors were Easterners of Igbo descent.

After the Civil War, many Easterners emerged from one of the most devastating chapters in Nigerian history with almost nothing but skill, mobility, discipline, and a survival instinct.

Some carried sewing machines from street to street, patching clothes, repairing trousers, adjusting school uniforms, and moving from compound to compound looking for work.

That image became so common that the name stuck.

Obioma.

A man with a sewing machine on his shoulder, moving under the sun and doing work many people looked down on.

But the same people who were once reduced in the public imagination to street tailoring slowly began to move.

From roadside tailoring to shops.

From shops to markets.

From markets to importation.

From importation to manufacturing.

From apprenticeship to industrial clusters.

From survival to ownership.

Go to Nnewi.

Go to Aba.

Go to Onitsha.

Go to Alaba.

Go to Ladipo.

Go to Ariaria.

You will still see poverty, struggle, disorder, bad roads, poor power supply, and all the normal Nigerian problems. Nobody is pretending the Southeast has become Singapore.

But you will also see something powerful.

You will see a people who took humiliation, displacement, and economic ruin and built a survival machine around trade, apprenticeship, mobility, and family capital.

And this is what makes my heart sink as a Northerner.

Today, the mai guard, mai ruwa, mai shayi, mai kaya, shoe repairer, the man pushing a wheelbarrow, carrying loads, shining shoes, patching clothes, riding okada, clearing construction sites, packing refuse, digging soakaway pits, hawking small goods, or sleeping beside a kiosk in Lagos, Abuja, Port Harcourt, Ibadan, Onitsha, and other cities is often called "Aboki."

That is the story we don't want to face.

One people moved from grass to grace.

Another moved from grace to grass.

This is not to take anything away from the Igbo people. I have nothing but admiration for them.

And it is not an insult to the Hausa people or to menial jobs. I am a proud son of Arewa, and in Arewa we do not look down on any vocation earned through halal means.

This is a history lesson.

Now look at us in the North.

We did not begin from the bottom.

Long before colonial Nigeria existed, Kano was already one of the great commercial cities of West Africa. Merchants from Tripoli, Fez, Agadez, Timbuktu, and Bornu passed through its markets. Caravans crossed the Sahara carrying leather goods, textiles, kola nuts, salt, and livestock. The city walls of Kano were not built around a village. They were built around a thriving urban economy that connected West Africa to North Africa.

We had cities that were centres of commerce when many parts of modern Nigeria were still organized around smaller local economies.

We had emirates that provided administration, taxation, courts, and political order across vast territories.

We had centres of Islamic scholarship that attracted students from across the region. In places like Kano, Katsina, Sokoto, and Borno, generations of scholars produced manuscripts and taught jurisprudence, theology, grammar, astronomy, and history. The reputation of northern scholarship travelled far beyond Nigeria's borders.

We had trade routes that linked us to the wider world. For centuries, merchants moved goods across the Sahara and across the savannah belt. Northern markets were not isolated local markets. They were part of international commercial networks.

We had cattle wealth on a scale few regions could match. Fulani pastoralists moved millions of cattle across grazing routes stretching from Senegal to Cameroon. Livestock was not merely food. It was wealth, trade, transport, status, and economic security.

We had one of the most respected leather industries in Africa. Kano leather was famous across the continent. Tanned hides from northern Nigeria found their way into trans-Saharan commerce and international markets. The famous red goatskin known as Morocco leather often originated from skins processed through West African leather networks in which Kano played a major role.

We had textile industries that employed thousands long before modern factories arrived. Hand-spun cotton was woven into cloth across northern towns. Entire communities depended on spinning, weaving, dyeing, trading, and transporting textiles.

We had the famous dye pits of Kano.

Not one or two pits.

Dozens of them.

For centuries, the Kofar Mata dye pits transformed locally woven cloth into richly coloured fabrics using indigo. Traders came from different parts of West Africa to buy these textiles. The dye pits became one of the oldest continuously operating industrial sites on the continent. They supported craftsmen, traders, transporters, farmers growing indigo, and entire commercial networks built around textile production.

We had the groundnut economy.

There was a time when the groundnut pyramids of Kano were not merely tourist attractions on postcards.

They were symbols of enormous agricultural wealth.

Thousands of farmers cultivated groundnuts across the North. Rail lines carried produce southward for export. Groundnut exports generated foreign exchange, supported industries, created jobs, and helped finance government revenues. The pyramids themselves represented mountains of produce waiting to enter global markets.

And if we move into the colonial and post-colonial era, the advantages become even harder to ignore.

We had numbers.

The North occupies roughly three-quarters of Nigeria's landmass. Depending on how one defines the region, the nineteen northern states account for well over half of Nigeria's population. Kano State alone has a population larger than many African countries.

We had manpower.

For decades, millions of young people entered the labour force every year. We were not a small minority struggling to find relevance. We were one of the largest demographic blocs in Africa.

We had land.

Hundreds of thousands of square kilometres of territory stretching across the Sudan and Sahel savannahs.

Land suitable for millet, sorghum, maize, rice, cotton, groundnuts, and livestock.

Land crossed by major river systems such as the Niger and Benue, and supported by irrigation projects in several states.

We had agricultural potential that many countries would envy.

We had political influence.

From independence onward, northern politicians, military officers, civil servants, traditional rulers, and power brokers occupied some of the most influential positions in the Nigerian state for long periods.

Prime ministers.

Heads of state.

Presidents.

Military rulers.

Senior ministers.

Powerful bureaucrats.

Influential legislators.

Whether one likes that fact or not, the North was never politically invisible.

We had religious authority.

The Sultanate of Sokoto remains one of the most influential Islamic institutions in Africa.

The emirates commanded legitimacy that extended beyond politics.

Mosques, Islamic schools, scholars, judges, and religious networks shaped social life across millions of households.

We had institutions.

Not perfect institutions.

But institutions nonetheless.

Emirate councils.

Traditional courts.

Islamic learning centres.

Agricultural boards.

Marketing boards.

Regional administrations.

Cooperative systems.

Educational establishments.

Commercial associations.

Structures that survived for generations.

We had a head start.

That is what makes the present situation so painful.

Because today, when millions of young Hausa and northern boys enter any big city, what work are many of them known for?

These boys are not lazy.

A lazy man does not leave Kano, Katsina, Zamfara, Sokoto, Jigawa, Bauchi, Kebbi, or Borno and sleep under a bridge in Lagos just to survive.

A lazy man does not push water from street to street.

A lazy man does not carry cement until his back bends.

A lazy man does not guard another man's house all night and still open a kiosk by morning.

The problem is not laziness.

The problem is that too many of our people enter the modern economy from the lowest possible point.

No certificate.

No skill that scales.

No capital.

No protection.

No formal training.

No strong educational foundation.

No industrial ladder waiting for them.

So they sell their bodies first.

Their backs.

Their hands.

Their legs.

Their sleep.

Their youth.

That is the real tragedy.

The Igbo Obioma story became a ladder because it was connected to apprenticeship, trade discipline, family networks, and commercial ambition.

The Hausa Aboki story too often becomes a trap because it is connected to poverty, broken schooling, rural collapse, insecurity, and survival migration.

One system turns a boy into a trader.

The other turns a boy into cheap labour or, worse, a recruitment ground for terrorism.

This is the painful contrast.

The Southeast came out of war and produced commercial networks.

The North came out of power and produced surplus labour.

That sentence is harsh, but look around before you reject it.

Who is carrying the load?

Who is guarding the gate?

Who is pushing the cart?

Who is fetching the water?

Who is sleeping in the market?

Who is leaving the village because bandits have made farming impossible?

Who is entering the city with nothing but strength?

If the answer to all the questions above is Arewa youth, then you must not be offended by the diagnosis. Instead, start asking your leaders the harder questions.

Because what is happening to Arewa is a failure of social organization. We shield our leaders too much and outsource criticism of them.

Our fathers inherited a civilization.

Too many of our boys inherited migration.

Our fathers inherited functioning economic systems.

Too many of our boys inherited survival.

Our fathers participated in trade networks stretching across continents.

Too many of our boys participate only in daily labour markets.

Our fathers built industries around leather, textiles, livestock, agriculture, and commerce.

Too many of our boys now rent out their muscles by the day.

And the painful thing is that the word Aboki, which originally means "friend," now, in the mouth of the Nigerian city, often becomes a class marker.

It becomes a way of saying: the northern poor man who does the work nobody respects but everybody needs.

That should break our hearts.

Not because the work is shameful.

No honest work is shameful.

What is shameful is that a whole region with history, population, religious authority, political influence, institutions, agricultural potential, and vast territory keeps producing young people whose first contact with the economy is desperation.

This is why history matters.

The question is not whether the Igbo are better than the Hausa.

That is a childish argument.

The real question is: what system turns hardship into enterprise, and what system turns heritage into dependency?

Because poverty alone does not explain everything.

War did not stop the Igbo from building trade networks.

Lack of oil did not stop Nnewi from producing industrialists.

Bad Nigerian roads did not stop Aba from becoming a manufacturing symbol.

Weak government did not stop apprenticeship from creating business owners.

So what stopped us?

What happened to the North that inherited thriving cities, trans-Saharan commerce, respected scholarship, textile industries, leather industries, livestock wealth, agricultural exports, demographic strength, political influence, and enormous land resources?

How did a people with so much historical structure produce so many young men with so little modern preparation?

That is the conversation we need.

Not insults.

Not denial.

Not ethnic pride.

Not hiding behind "our culture."

Not pretending every criticism is hatred.

The Obioma story should humble us.

Because it shows that a people can begin with a sewing machine on the shoulder and still build a commercial ladder.

The Aboki story should disturb us.

Because it shows that a people can begin with history on their side and still end up supplying cheap labour to other people's cities.

That is the mirror.

Igbo moved from Obioma to enterprise.

Hausa must not remain trapped inside Aboki survival.

The North needs a ladder.