The contest for the All Progressives Congress (APC) senatorial ticket in Ogun East is already gathering momentum. The conversation, also, is gradually shifting from mere name recognition to something far more consequential: suitability.
In a political environment where incumbency often confers undue advantage, including muzzling others, the undiscerning is easily tempted to assume that executive experience alone is sufficient qualification for legislative office.
However, that assumption deserves closer scrutiny, especially in the case of Governor Dapo Abiodun of Ogun State.
One of the most critical, yet persistently underestimated, requirements for effective service as a federal legislator is collaborative temperament. It specifically shapes the ability to build, sustain, and deploy relationships across political divides.
The Senate is not an extension of executive authority; it is a delicate ecosystem of negotiation, compromise and strategic alliance. Basically, it rewards those who can convene consensus, manage differences, maintain durable channels of influence across competing interests and can earn the votes of the people through trust.
It is within this context that Abiodun’s leadership profile raises concerns – serious ones. His tenure as governor has been widely characterised by strained relationships with key stakeholders, including influential party figures and predecessors, who remain central to Ogun State’s political architecture.
While disagreement is inevitable in politics, what is at issue here is not isolated tension but a recurring pattern – one that points to a deeper limitation in collaborative temperament. A good example is the way former governor Gbenga Daniel and senator for Ogun East was treated at a caucus meeting allegedly at the behest of Abiodun.
Since Nigeria’s return to democracy in 1999, Ogun State has had four governors. Yet, rather than consolidate political harmony across this lineage, Abiodun’s administration has often been defined by friction with at least two of his three predecessors. He fears competition and delights in trampling on democratic tenets.
Chief Olusegun Osoba, a towering political figure in the state and a force within the APC tradition, remains emblematic of this strained dynamic. Increasingly, political observers note that even that fragile relationship risks further deterioration as intra-party alignments intensify around senatorial and gubernatorial ambitions.
This is not a trivial political detail. It is a structural warning sign, because a governor’s office is designed to unify. It is meant to consolidate elite consensus, harmonise competing factions and strengthen institutional continuity.
When instead it becomes associated with recurring estrangement from critical actors, it suggests not merely political disagreement but a deeper deficiency in the art of governance itself, and the inability to manage relationships as a tool of statecraft.
On the contrary, the Senate operates on a fundamentally different logic. A governor can rely on command; a senator must rely on persuasion, collaboration and harmonious co-existence with relevant stakeholders. These, unfortunately, are not traits inherent in Abiodun.
A governor can issue directives; a senator must negotiate outcomes. The transition is not procedural, it is psychological and behavioural. It demands restraint, emotional intelligence and above all, a disposition that prioritises engagement over exclusion.
Without these, legislative relevance is significantly weakened. This is why comparative examples from other states are instructive.
In Ekiti State, the current governor, Biodun Oyebanji, governs within a politically plural legacy where his predecessors were not even from the same party formation. Yet, rather than inherit division, he has deliberately worked to bridge institutional and personal gaps across political generations.
Today, there is a growing sense of stability and elite consensus among key stakeholders in the state, including former governors who now participate in a more coordinated political atmosphere.
Whatever ideological or political differences exist, they are contained within a framework of functional engagement and mutual recognition. That outcome did not happen by accident.
It reflects a governing style rooted in accommodation, patience, and strategic inclusion – qualities that allow political systems to outlive individual ambition.
A similar pattern is observable in Ondo State, where successive administrations have emerged from different political parties and ideological blocs.
Yet, despite this diversity, former governors and key stakeholders have often found ways to maintain functional relationships across party lines.
The result is not perfect harmony, but a workable political equilibrium that allows governance to proceed without the burden of permanent hostility among elite actors.
These examples matter not because they are flawless, but because they demonstrate what is possible when temperament aligns with the demands of political continuity.
They show that even in highly competitive environments, a governor can choose cohesion over confrontation in show of leadership. This, regrettably, hasn’t been the case in Ogun since the inception of Abiodun’s tenure.
Ogun State presents a different and more troubling contrast. Here, political relations at the elite level have often been defined by suspicion, distance and periodic breakdowns in communication between the incumbent and established stakeholders.
This is not merely an administrative issue; it reflects a governing style that struggles to accommodate institutional memory and political inheritance. And therein lies the concern for Ogun East.
Because if a political actor has struggled to maintain stable relationships within the relatively bounded environment of state governance, what happens when that same actor is placed in a national legislature where influence is entirely dependent on relationships, alliances and continuous negotiation?
Obviously, the Nigerian Senate is not a chamber for isolated authority. It is a marketplace of interests. Bills are shaped by persuasion, not command. Constituency influence is sustained through networks, not hierarchy.
Committee power is exercised through collaboration, not confrontation. In such a space, Abiodun’s confrontational or isolative disposition is not just inconvenient, it is disabling.
This is where the contrast becomes politically significant. The issue is not simply about personal disagreements or elite rivalries. It is about whether a leadership style that appears structurally predisposed to friction can adapt to a system that rewards cohesion.
Expectedly, supporters of the incumbent Ogun governor may point to some of his poor infrastructure delivery, administrative visibility and the authority of incumbency as indicators of readiness for higher legislative responsibility.
Yet visibility is not influence and authority is not persuasion. The Senate does not respond to executive titles; it responds to relational capital. Moreover, Ogun East’s developmental aspirations require more than symbolic representation.
The district needs a senator capable of navigating federal structures, securing projects, influencing budgetary allocations and embedding local priorities within national policy frameworks.
These outcomes are not achieved through distance, chaotic dominance or divide and rule, but through access, trust, and sustained collaboration across political divides.
Ultimately, the decision before APC delegates – and by extension, the electorate – is not merely between two individuals, but between two governing philosophies.
One approach privileges executive assertion, often at the expense of institutional harmony. The other recognises that political power in a democracy is relational, cumulative and sustained through engagement rather than isolation. In a legislative environment defined by interdependence, the difference is decisive.
In the final analysis, Ogun East does not simply require representation. It requires effective representation, and effectiveness in the Senate is not determined by past office alone, but by temperament – the capacity to build bridges where others create barriers, to sustain alliances where others generate friction, and to work within networks rather than outside them.
On this fundamental measure of political fitness, the evidence before the electorate raises profound and unavoidable concerns about Dapo Abiodun. And those concerns go beyond politics, they speak directly to suitability for the collaborative, relational and negotiated demands of legislative life.
Akinkunmi, a communications strategist, writes from Lagos
