By Mahfouz Adedimeji
In the arc of history, the fate of nations and societies is often shaped and sealed not only by their geographical location or natural endowments but also by their leadership quality, political sagacity, social amity and people’s collective capacity. The Greek historian, Thucydides, once noted that “the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must”. This dialectic of power and passivity is no less true of communities that have found themselves marooned on the margins of national relevance despite their demographic or cultural capital. Within the Yoruba sociopolitical sphere, a curious case emerges, one that is both lamentable and instructive: the case of our dear Iwo, a city rich in history, dense in population, being some time ago the fifth largest in Nigeria, yet pitiably poor in political influence and relevance, if the truth must be told.
This situation pricks the conscience of Iwo sons and daughters with patriotic fervour and it has been a subject of quiet whispers and serious discourses in both informal and informed circles. The contradictions that typify this scenario are brought to the fore by Alhaji Liad Tella’s Iwo and the Dungeon of Political Poverty, a tour de force that x-rays the socio-political evolution of Iwo from the pre-independence period of Nigeria through the tumultuous undercurrents of the First Republic Nigeria to the contemporary Fourth Republic. A seasoned journalist, public intellectual, media administrator and political actor himself, the Titanic Tella pens this gripping account bringing to bear a rare combination of historical documentation, experiential insight, investigative journalism and penetrating analysis in dissecting the causes, contours and consequences of Iwo’s political marginalisation.
The general picture is that this is a book which interrogates the paradox of a people who, despite their numerical strength and long-standing fidelity to progressive politics, have remained perennially stranded in political wilderness, scavenging for the crumbs of representation while other less endowed communities feast on the meat of political authority. It is a prognosis of political paralysis, a profound interrogation of the nuances underpinning it and a prescription of the pathway to therapy.
Structure
The book is structured into nine distinct chapters, with additional sections on recommendations, way forward and epilogue, each building a mosaic of missed opportunities, self-inflicted wounds, and systemic failures. The preface and foreword also provide the background and summary of the subject of the book.
From the outset, the author traces the historical foundations of Iwo’s political activism, citing its early support for nationalist movements and progressive parties like the Action Group (AG), Unity Party of Nigeria (UPN), and later, the Alliance for Democracy (AD) and the All Progressives Congress (APC). Tella’s narrative is both an account of devotion as it is a dirge of disappointment. He argues that the Iwo electorate have given their loyalty and votes to political parties over the decades but have received very little in return especially since the early 70’s.
At the heart of Iwo’s political predicament, the author identifies four core afflictions: educational underdevelopment, economic weakness, internal disunity, and the one-term syndrome. The first, educational backwardness, is traced to a cultural-religious reluctance towards Western education due to fears of Christian proselytisation. This created a generational lag as other Yoruba communities produced educated elite who subsequently occupied bureaucratic and political spaces, while Iwo remained behind.
The second affliction, economic disempowerment, is explained through the narrow base of Iwo’s economic elite, who were mostly cocoa merchants and cattle traders, unable to fund political campaigns or build enduring political structures. Unlike other towns where wealthy industrialists and professionals provided financial backbone for politics, Iwo lacked such benefactors.
The third factor, internal disunity, is perhaps the most damaging. Here, the author devotes considerable energy to the task of examining the internecine rivalries, betrayals and factionalism that have plagued Iwo’s political class. From the days of Prince Tiamiyu Alade Lamuye to the contemporary travails of Alhaji Moshood Adeoti and Alhaji Fatai Akinbade, Iwo’s politics has been marked by an inability to speak with one voice or rally behind a common cause. This disunity has been weaponised by outsiders to sideline Iwo in the calculus of power.
The one-term syndrome is a curious phenomenon whereby politicians from Iwo rarely secure a second term in office, whether as legislators, commissioners, or chairmen. This, the author notes, deprives the town of the institutional memory and seniority required to ascend to higher offices. While other zones produce Speakers, Deputy Governors, and Ministers, Iwo keeps recycling rookies.
What is particularly compelling in Alhaji Tella’s work is the use of historical anecdotes, insider testimony and comparative analysis. He contrasts Iwo with less populated but more politically strategic towns like Ede, Ejigbo, Ilesa and Ikire. He also documents with clarity the moments when Iwo came close to producing a governor, a minister, or a powerful speaker, only to be undone by internal sabotage or external connivance. The narrative is layered, emotive and punctuated with rhetorical questions and discourse tactics that echo the frustrations of a marginalised people.
Nature
The core thesis of the book is that political poverty is not a function of numbers but of strategy, unity and foresight. Tella warns that unless Iwo recalibrates its political compass, invests in education, fosters internal cohesion and begins to demand dividends for its loyalty, it will continue to play the role of the donkey in the political caravan—doing the work but never riding in the cart.
The author is unapologetic in his call for a paradigm shift. He urges Iwo to abandon the slavish loyalty to the party and embrace a strategic, interest-driven politics. He advocates for a written charter of demands to be presented to political aspirants, the re-election of credible leaders to break the one-term jinx, the empowerment of a political think-tank, and the mentoring of the youth for leadership. In this sense, the book is not merely a post-mortem analysis of a political trajectory; it is a manifesto for political rebirth and communal renaissance. Luckily, as the author notes, through the efforts of the incumbent Oluwo of Iwoland, Oba (Dr) AbdulRasheed Adewale Akanbi, Iwo is regaining its lost mojo and rolling back into national reckoning.
Nurture
While the book is rich in insight and commendable in its honesty, it is not without its blemishes as God is the All-Perfect. The prose, though lucid and readable, occasionally lapses into repetition, especially in hammering home the points on betrayal and disunity. Some of the historical references could have been provided or documented while the work would have benefitted from a proof-reader. Besides, as the book is not a work of fiction, the addition of appendices and maps, which would aid comprehension of Iwo’s political journey, would have enriched and nurtured the book more. Definitely, these are minor issues that do not detract from the book’s towering edifice of political advocacy.
Ultimately, Iwo and the Dungeon of Political Poverty is a clarion call to conscious conscientisation and collective conscience towards a great political future for Iwo and the future begins immediately. It is all a lamentation and a lecture, a critique and a counsel, a history and a hope all rolled into one. It tells the story of Iwo, but it is also the story of many Nigerian communities that suffer in silence while contributing to the political fortunes of others.
Alhaji Liad Tella has rendered a patriotic service to Iwo, one that demands not just reading but reflection, not just agreement but action. His highly engaging and informative book is both a mirror and a map. In it, Iwo must not only acknowledge its past political prominence and the present predicament but also chart its future path. The dungeon may be deep, but the ladder of liberation begins with unity, education, vision and a refusal to be a perpetual victim of use-and-dump politicking. In a world where the politics of number alone is daily exposed as a fallacy, and where only strategy secures the spoils, this book should be a required reading for political actors, community leaders, and all concerned Iwo indigenes alike.
As a timely instrument for ploughing the field and clearing the path to power and plenty or a manifesto for political renaissance, Iwo and the Dungeon of Political Poverty deserves commendation for its boldness, relevance and timeliness. In the words of Prof. Wole Soyinka, “the man dies in all who keep silent in the face of tyranny”. Alhaji Tella refuses to be silent though he knows he would ruffle some feathers. In lending his voice to the need of the day, the veteran journalist, media administrator, political scientist and resourceful scholar has given Iwo a compass to navigate its political waters, more so with his eleven recommendations.
This book is a manual for political actors and future leaders, an eye-opener for every son and daughter of Iwo. I recommend that you read it not just with your eyes, but with your heart because in it lies the soul of a city that is rising again.
•Adedimeji, Vice Chancellor African School of Economics, Abuja