As political waves continue to sweep through Nigeria’s already fragile democratic ecosystem, new speculations have emerged surrounding the possible defection of the Executive Governor of Bayelsa State, His Excellency Senator Douye Diri, from the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) to the All Progressives Congress (APC); and likewise His Excellency Siminalayi Fubara, the Executive Governor of Rivers State. While such a move might seem, on the surface, to be a calculated act of survival within Nigeria’s ever-shifting political terrain, it opens up deeper questions that deserve urgent interrogation—not just for Bayelsa or Rivers, but for the broader Ijaw (Izon) ethnic nationality.

The immediate context of this possible defection is familiar: a rash of political cross-carpeting by South-South Governors and the suspension of the Rivers’ Governor, leading to the unsettling optics of Bayelsa’s Governor now standing alone in opposition within the South-South Governors’ Forum. Such political isolation can seem untenable in a country where federal might often trumps regional conviction. But beneath this surface of pragmatic alignment lies the more enduring concern—the realpolitik of the modern Ijaw politician and the enduring Ijaw question in Nigeria. The question we must ask then isn’t just if he will defect, but how, why, and on whose terms?

Bayelsa and Rivers are no ordinary states in Nigeria’s federal constellation. They are the cradle of the Ijaw people—the fourth-largest ethnic nationality in the country and the most significant contributor to Nigeria’s oil wealth. The Ijaw question is not merely about minority representation, but about strategic relevance. To act politically from a frame of inferiority is to betray the very ethos of what the Ijaw nation represents in the economic backbone of Nigeria. The Ijaw man, as history shows, need not be beggarly or cowardly.

The Ijaw politician’s calculus
Realpolitik, the art of practical politics, is a survival tool that comes in handy for minority ethnic groups in Nigeria’s complex federation. For us the Ijaws, who dominate the Niger Delta’s oil-rich terrain, our economic significance offers a unique leverage that transcends our numerical minority status. The Ijaw have historically been maritime traders and fishermen, transitioning into a linchpin of Nigeria’s economy with the discovery of oil in the 1950s. The region’s resources account for a substantial portion of national revenue, yet environmental degradation and socio-economic neglect have fueled activism, as seen in the 1998 Kaiama Declaration, which disrupted oil supplies and underscored their influence.

In a polity where ethnic identity, regional bargaining power, and resource control remain pivotal, the Ijaw man—heir to a land that fuels the Nigerian economy—has often been made to act as though he must beg to belong. This is neither natural nor acceptable. The Ijaw ethnic nationality, by virtue of the Niger Delta’s immense resource contributions, is a dominant minority. We are not numerically superior, but the economic lifeblood of the Nigerian state flows from our creeks, mangroves, and oil wells.

Yet, decades of marginalisation have produced a generation of politicians who oscillate between resistance and subservience, between agitation and assimilation. When Ijaw leaders make political decisions—especially seismic ones like defection—they must not do so from the weak posture of marginal players, but from the firm position of strategic stakeholders.

Defection, if it must happen, must be a strategic alignment and not a desperate exodus. The Ijaw politician must master the craft of making his moves appear not just palatable, but imperative, as if his personal political ambitions were indistinguishable from the collective aspirations of the Ijaw people.

This is where the true artistry of political leadership lies: in making one’s selfish desires become one and the same with the interests of the whole, and in doing so, invoking collective empowerment rather than collective capitulation. Only when personal ambition is couched as collective gain does it yield true political power. It is not enough to switch camps; one must carry the camp along.

The Ijaw struggle for justice and recognition is rooted in the legacies of towering figures who shaped the region’s political consciousness. Ernest Sissei Ikoli (1893–1960), a pioneering journalist and nationalist, used his platform as the first editor of the Daily Times to advocate for Nigerian independence and unity. His work laid the foundation for Ijaw participation in national politics. Chief Harold Dappa Biriye (1920–2005), a key figure in the Niger Delta Congress, collaborated with national leaders like Tafawa Balewa to amplify the region’s voice by advocating for minority rights at the Lancaster House and Willinks Commission, ensuring Ijaw interests shaped Nigeria’s founding framework.

Major Isaac Jasper Boro (1938–1968), a revolutionary, declared the Niger Delta Republic in 1967, a bold act of defiance against the exploitation of the region’s oil resources. His activism highlighted the Ijaw’s demand for a fair share of their wealth. Melford Okilo (1933–2008), the first civilian governor of the old Rivers State, advanced the cause through political leadership, fostering development and representation.

Pa Edwin Clark (1927–2025), a veteran statesman, was a consistent advocate for Ijaw rights, guiding the community through turbulent political waters. Chief DSP Alamieyeseigha (1952–2015), Bayelsa’s first civilian governor, embodied the aspirations of a newly created state for the Ijaw people, pushing for resource control, self-governance and development thus earning the title “Governor-General of Ijaw Nation.”

These leaders, despite their diverse approaches, shared a commitment to elevating the Ijaw people’s status in Nigeria. Their legacies serve as a blueprint for modern Ijaw politicians, urging them to approach political decisions with strategic foresight and a focus on collective welfare.

Defection as political strategy, or ethnic abdication?
There is no denying that defection, in Nigeria, has become an accepted and often rational strategy in the game of political survival. But for a people whose history is marked by struggle, from the Isaac Boro Revolution to the Kaiama Declaration, decisions of such magnitude by top leaders should not be left to the narrow calculus of personal political gain. They must reflect a broader consultative process that includes elders, traditional leaders, youth movements, intellectuals, and civil society actors across Izon-ibe (Ijawland).
To be continued tomorrow.
Prof. Azaiki, former secretary to the Bayelsa State Government, was a member of the House of Representatives (2019-2023).