WHEN GOVERNANCE ENTERS THE SYLLABUS — AND THE OPPOSITION STARTS PANICKING
For months now, the Abia opposition has tried—often desperately—to reduce Governor Alex Chioma Otti’s administration to slogans, soundbites, and social-media optics. What they did not anticipate is that Abia’s reform experiment would migrate from partisan chatter into serious policy conversations, boardrooms, and academic spaces. When governance begins to look like curriculum material, politics inevitably turns uncomfortable for those whose own records cannot survive footnotes.
At the centre of this unease is Governor Otti’s 25-Year Abia State Development Plan, a document that has circulated widely in policy and academic discussions and which his administration codified into law in late 2025. This is not a campaign manifesto that expires after elections; it is a legislative development framework deliberately designed to outlive administrations. That distinction alone explains why the old order is rattled. Plans that cannot be easily abandoned threaten politics built on discontinuity.
Opposition voices mock what they call “the Harvard talk,” yet they avoid the substance. The so-called Harvard Question—which Otti himself has openly referenced from his Harvard Business School years—centres on a simple but devastating idea: competence versus mediocrity in leadership. It is not a slogan; it is a governing philosophy. And it is precisely this philosophy that has shaped Abia’s sequencing since May 2023: initial stock-taking, forensic audits, payroll verification, fiscal discipline, and only then accelerated capital execution. That order is documented in government briefings and widely reported when Otti ordered a forensic audit of Abia’s finances shortly after assumption of office—a move noted at the time as unusual but necessary for a state emerging from years of opacity.
Contrast this with the opposition’s preferred model: announce projects first, ask questions later, and blame “politics” when the books do not add up.
The panic intensified with the signing of Abia’s ₦1.016 trillion 2026 “Budget of Acceleration”, structured with an unusually high capital component and a clear ambition to fund recurrent expenditure increasingly from Internally Generated Revenue. This budget did not trend because of propaganda; it trended because of structure. Budgets that signal intent without execution are common. Budgets that reflect prior audits, cleaned payrolls, and realistic revenue projections are not.
What has truly unsettled Otti’s critics, however, is that output is no longer being sold as reform. Roads are being reopened, yes—but after procurement rules were reset. Salaries are being paid, yes—but after payrolls were sanitised. Aba’s renewal is visible, but it is anchored on a governance reset that includes repealing indefensible privileges such as lifetime pensions for former governors, a reform so symbolically powerful it found its way into national governance discussions.
The opposition calls this “noise.” Yet their own record explains the anxiety. For 24 years, Abians were conditioned to equate governance with announcements unbacked by systems. Institutions weakened, arrears piled up, and accountability was optional. Now, suddenly, they are confronted with a governor who insists on documentation, audits, and long-term planning—and they want him to stop talking.
Even recent polling has added salt to old wounds. In a performance poll conducted by the Forum of South-East Democratic Organisations (FOSAD), Governor Otti emerged as the highest-rated South-East governor with 55.5%, based on indicators such as security, infrastructure, and economic management. Polls do not govern states—but they do reflect perception shifts. And perception, in politics, often trails reality.
The loudest critics demand instant industrial miracles while ignoring the deliberate rebuilding of foundations. They ask for job numbers without acknowledging SME incubation frameworks and industrial park planning now underway. They scoff at long-term plans because long-term plans deny them the chaos on which they thrive.
What is playing out is not merely a political disagreement; it is a clash of governing eras. One side is comfortable with improvisation and nostalgia. The other is insisting that governance can be treated as a science—sequenced, measured, audited, and defended with data.
That is why the attacks have become shriller. Reform does not just change roads; it exposes habits. It does not merely rebuild cities; it embarrasses those who once claimed there was no alternative.
Abians are watching. And for the first time in a long while, they are watching a government that prefers footnotes to insults, audits to excuses, and plans that survive elections to promises that die after rallies.
When governance enters the syllabus, those who never did the homework will always complain about the exam.
AProf Chukwuemeka Ifegwu Eke
