A tale of Adeleke’s Unforgivable Sins
Beyond Ede, Beyond One Name: Rethinking Power and Competence in Osun West
The question is blunt, and it needs to be asked. Is Ede the only town in Osun? Is the Adeleke family the only competent political lineage in Osun West? If the answer feels like yes in public discourse, then we have a problem that goes deeper than zoning, deeper than 2026 permutations. We have a problem of imagination.
Osun West is not a one-town district and it is not a one-family constituency. It is a senatorial zone of multiple histories, economies, and human capital pools. Iwo, the largest town by population, is a centuries-old center of Islamic scholarship, commerce, and grassroots mobilization. Ejigbo built its reputation on diaspora enterprise and agricultural processing. Ila Orangun produced civil service technocrats who ran ministries long before the Fourth Republic. Ode-Omu, Gbongan, Ikire, Ifeodan, Sekona. Each has political networks, business leaders, academics, and administrators who have governed, built, and delivered without a famous surname. To reduce the zone to Ede is to erase a map of competence that already exists.
The same applies to families. The Adelekes are visible, successful, and politically skilled. Their record in business, entertainment, and public office is a matter of public fact. Visibility, however, is not the same as exclusivity. Osun West has produced ministers, senators, commissioners, judges, professors, and private sector CEOs from outside that family who ran institutions under pressure and left measurable results. Competence is not hereditary. It is not localized to one postal code. When we conflate prominence with capacity, we narrow the leadership pipeline and tell a generation of potential governors, legislators, and policy makers that their names are not on the shortlist because their birthplace is.
This narrowing carries a political cost. First, it breeds resentment. Voters in Iwo, Ayedire, Ola-Oluwa, and Isokan hear the subtext. If the only path to power runs through Ede, then their participation is decorative, not decisive. That resentment becomes apathy or, worse, anti-system politics. Second, it weakens parties. Any political platform that signals to its own base that talent is confined to one town and one family will struggle to recruit its best people. The brightest will migrate to other parties or opt out entirely. Third, it creates single-point failure. If governance is personalized around one geography and one lineage, then institutional memory, networks, and service delivery become vulnerable to individual fortune. Strong democracies build redundancy. They cultivate many centers of excellence so that the state does not pause when one center falters.
The argument here is not against Ede and it is not against the Adelekes. Ede has produced national figures and deserves its place in the state’s political architecture. The Adeleke family has earned political capital through investment, philanthropy, and electoral success. The argument is against monopoly. Political monopolies, like economic ones, raise prices. They raise the price of dissent, the price of entry, and the price of innovation. Osun West pays that price when qualified people from Iwo, Ejigbo, or Ikire step back because the assumption is already set that the ticket is reserved.
If the next cycle is to be about capacity, then the criteria must be public and the competition must be real. Let aspirants from across the ten local governments of Osun West show policy depth, administrative record, and coalition-building skill. Let parties audit their own zoning reflexes and ask whether they are selecting for competence or for familiarity. Let media and civil society expand the lens beyond the most covered town and the most covered name. Voters are not helped by a false choice between one strong family and a vacuum. They are helped by a menu of tested options.
Ede is a vital town. It is not the only town. The Adelekes are a competent family. They are not the only competent family. Osun West is larger than a compound and older than a campaign. The sooner our politics reflects that reality, the sooner the state gets the leadership depth it needs. The alternative is to keep shrinking a big district into a small room, then wonder why the air feels thin.
Adeleke’s Ede Unholy Agenda
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There is a growing allegation in Osun political circles that Governor Ademola Adeleke is executing a quiet but deliberate agenda to make Ede the de facto capital of Osun State, positioning his hometown above historically superior towns like Iwo, Ila Orangun, Ilesha, Ife, and Osogbo in development priority, influence, and symbolism. The clearest signal of this plan, critics argue, is the reported move to relocate the state’s airport project to Ede. But the airport is only the headline; the pattern is visible in the concentration of projects and the clustering of key appointments in Ede since 2022, and together they suggest a redesign of Osun’s power geography.
The logic of capitals is not written in law alone but in infrastructure, and an airport is the ultimate status marker. It brings federal attention, customs presence, logistics corridors, hotels, and the kind of land appreciation that turns a town into a magnet for elites. Osogbo, as the gazetted capital, houses the state secretariat, but it does not control the airspace. Ife is the spiritual cradle, Ilesha the industrial hub, Iwo the headquarters of Osun West, and Ila Orangun a historic center of Yoruba monarchy. Yet the push to site the airport in Ede would give the governor’s hometown the one asset that none of these older towns have, and it would redirect the state’s economic compass toward Ede for the next 20 years. Investors, federal agencies, and political delegations would fly into Ede first. Contracts for access roads, aviation fuel, cargo terminals, and hospitality would flow through Ede contractors. In real terms, Ede becomes the gateway to Osun while Osogbo remains the administrative back office.
That single project would not raise eyebrows if it were isolated. It is the pattern that fuels the allegation. Since 2022, the spread of visible state projects has tilted toward Ede in a way that breaks with the traditional balancing that past governors used to hold the state together. Olagunsoye Oyinlola, despite being from Okuku, distributed flagship projects across Ife, Ijesa, Osogbo, and Ede to keep all zones invested. Rauf Aregbesola sited his mega schools and roads in Osogbo, Iwo, Ilesha, and Ife to reflect the state’s multi-polar structure. Under Adeleke, the concentration has narrowed. Major road rehabilitations, school renovations with the highest budget allocations, and the most publicized empowerment programs have launched from Ede or been headlined by Ede venues. The state’s limited IGR and federal allocations mean every billion spent in Ede is a billion not spent in Ila Orangun’s dilapidated township roads, Ilesha’s water works, Iwo’s intra-city linkages, or Ife’s satellite communities. Development is a zero-sum game when funds are scarce, and the scoreboard currently reads Ede first.
The second pillar of the alleged agenda is appointments. Power in Osun does not reside in titles alone but in who controls the ministries that award contracts, the boards that disburse funds, and the agencies that hire. A review of the governor’s kitchen cabinet and the heads of revenue-generating MDAs shows a heavy Ede footprint. From chief of staff circles to procurement-sensitive boards, to special advisers on works, finance, and investments, the family and political network of Ede has been the primary beneficiary. This matters because appointments determine patronage flow. When the commissioner for works, the chairman of the road maintenance agency, and the special adviser on PPPs all come from one town, the technical and political bias of site selection shifts, often unconsciously. Iwo leaders complain that their federal polytechnic road has waited while Ede township roads received quick intervention. Ilesha stakeholders point to the water project delays while Ede’s stadium upgrade was prioritized. Ife chiefs note that their cultural tourism sites need access roads, yet the contractors mobilized first to Ede. In Osun, where towns measure respect by state presence, these choices are read as a statement: Ede is now the senior town.
The airport plan ties both threads together. Moving it to Ede would cement the town’s infrastructural superiority over Osogbo, which has no airport, and over Iwo, which as Osun West headquarters would ordinarily be the candidate for any western-zone mega project to balance the state. It also undercuts Ila Orangun and Ilesha, which have historically competed for federal presence to match Osogbo’s administrative role. Once Ede controls the air link, the banks, the federal agencies, and the real estate speculators follow. The town’s land values rise, its elites gain proximity to power, and its sons gain first-mover advantage in every new state policy. In ten years, the conversation shifts from “why is Ede getting everything” to “Ede is where everything is,” and the de facto capital is established without a constitutional amendment.
Critics argue this is not accidental but a legacy project for the Adeleke family. Ede has always been politically significant, but it has never been first among equals. Making it first requires more than one term; it requires locking in infrastructure and bureaucracy so deep that even a successor from Ilesha or Ife cannot reverse it without political suicide. That is why the concentration of projects and appointments is interpreted not as favoritism but as statecraft: use four years to move the center of gravity, then let economics defend it.
Whether the agenda is written down or just understood in Government House meetings, the political consequence is already here. Iwo’s pillars like Barrister Gbadegesin Adedeji and Alhaji Liad Tella have stayed put in APC because they see no future in a state where Osun West is a footnote. Ijesa and Ife leaders are exiting to APC and ADC because their towns are being told, by omission, that they are second tier. Osogbo elites are silent but uneasy, because a capital without an airport, without the biggest projects, and without the governor’s core appointees is a capital in name only.
In Osun, superiority is not declared; it is built, road by road, appointment by appointment, airport by airport. The allegation against Adeleke is that he is building Ede to be superior to Iwo, Ila Orangun, Ilesha, Ife, and Osogbo, and the evidence cited is the airport move, the project map, and the appointment list. If that continues, Ede will not need a legal pronouncement to become the de facto capital. The contractors, the pilots, and the bankers will have already made it so.
Nepotism, Secrecy, and the Betrayal of ‘Imole’ in Osun
When the drums of “Imole” drowned out the campaign noise in November 2022, Ademola Adeleke promised Osun a government of light, transparency, and relief from the past. Nearly four years later, that light has dimmed under a cloud of allegations that have come to define his tenure: a family dynasty tightening its grip on appointments from Works to Budget and Planning, major “Infra Plan” contracts awarded without competitive bidding to allies, windfall FAAC revenues managed behind late and opaque budget reports, mass sackings of workers and monarchs by Executive Order, renegotiated mining deals whispered to favor his inner circle, and palliatives distributed through party structures rather than need. For a governor who campaigned against impunity, the charge sheet now reads like a betrayal of “Imole” — nepotism, secrecy, and a blurring of the line between state power and family empire.
Governor Ademola Adeleke’s administration has drawn sharp criticism over what many see as entrenched nepotism, with key state roles dominated by members of his immediate and extended family. Beyond holding the governorship, Adeleke also serves as Commissioner for Works, while his brother Dr. Deji Adeleke chairs the Advisory Council alongside Yeye Dupe Adeleke as co-chair. The arrangement extends to two designated “First Ladies” — Títí Adeleke for administration and Ngozi Adeleke for academics — and cuts across finance, planning and local governance with Adenike Folasade Adeleke as Commissioner for Federal Affairs, Prof. Maruf Adeleke overseeing Budget and Planning, Tunji Adeleke chairing the local government commission, and Gbolahan Adeleke as Special Adviser on Government House Affairs. Even sports and public funds are not exempt, with David Adeleke named Chairman of the Osun Sport Trust Fund. The concentration of political and fiscal authority within one family raises serious questions about merit, transparency, and the use of Osun taxpayers’ money, suggesting a governance model where public appointments function less as vehicles for service delivery and more as instruments for dynastic control.
The most persistent charge is that Osun is being governed like a family compound. Opposition parties and civic voices have repeatedly pointed to a pattern of appointments that keeps cabinet seats, board chairmanships, and agency headships within the orbit of the Adeleke family and its long-time business allies. The defense from government is always the same: loyalty and competence are not crimes, and the governor is entitled to work with people he trusts. Yet trust is not the standard the Public Service Rules demand. Merit is. When the “Ede factor” becomes shorthand for who gets what, the perception of a state captured by kinship takes root, and perception in politics is a form of reality. A government that campaigned against impunity cannot dismiss this as propaganda when the optics suggest a narrowing of the state to a family project.
From Ede to Ilesa, the same whispers now trail his convoy: who really runs this government, whose pockets are being lined, and whether the line between state power and family empire has been erased. These are not yet court convictions, but they are the allegations that have defined the Adeleke years, and a government that promised daylight owes the public answers before the shadows harden into legacy.
Financial management has become another front. Critics have flagged the pace and detail of budget performance reports, questioning whether the public can truly track how grants, allocations, and loans are moving. The APC alleged in 2024 that fresh loans were taken without disclosure, a claim the government denied by pointing to debt restructuring rather than new borrowing. The dispute itself reveals the problem: in a FAAC-rich season, accountability should be easier, not harder. When IGR is rising and debt is supposedly untouched, the books should be wide open. That they are not, or that the publications come late, feeds the suspicion that windfall revenue is being managed as political capital rather than public trust.
The tone of the administration was set in its first days, and that tone still haunts it. The mass reversal of appointments through Executive Orders — sacking thousands of workers, monarchs, and board members installed by the previous government — was framed as correcting illegality. To those affected, it looked like victimisation without fair hearing. Labour unions protested. Royal stools went to court. The government’s legal argument may stand, but the political damage was done: it told the civil service that job security lasts only until the next election. For a bureaucracy already politicized by years of arrears and half-salary trauma, that message deepened the sense that the state is a spoils system, not a service system.
The same concern shadows Osun’s mineral wealth. The renegotiation of gold mining joint ventures and licenses was presented as a cleanup of a sector abused under past administrations. Yet opposition voices counter that the new deals are simply reallocating control to interests aligned with the governor’s circle. In a state desperate for revenue independence, mining should be Osun’s long-term hedge against FAAC volatility. If the process is opaque, the hedge becomes a rumor, and the promise of sanitization becomes another front in the patronage war. The pattern is familiar: a legitimate policy goal undermined by the suspicion of private gain.
Even relief has become contentious. Palliatives meant to cushion the blow of subsidy removal were rolled out with fanfare, but civil society groups alleged in 2023 and 2024 that distribution was routed through party structures, turning poverty relief into political reward. The government’s reply — that ward committees included all stakeholders — has not silenced the charge that vulnerability is being mapped by party register. When hunger is partisan, the social contract is broken. A government elected on the back of economic pain cannot afford to be seen as rationing compassion.
The Adeleke administration’s blanket response to all this is to call it “APC propaganda” and to point to ongoing projects, cleared arrears, and IGR growth as rebuttal. Delivery is important, but delivery is not immunity. No flyover erases due process questions. No paid salary justifies sacking workers without hearing. No IGR chart excuses a procurement process the public cannot see. In Osun’s adversarial politics, allegations are weapons, and many will be false. But a government that holds power in trust does not win by labeling critics. It wins by opening the books, publishing the contracts, and subjecting its family, its friends, and itself to the same rules it met in the civil service
Osun State Payroll Scandal: 8,452 Ghost Workers Siphon ₦13.72 Billion Annually
A forensic audit firm, SALLY TIBBOT Consulting Limited, has accused the Osun State Government of inserting 8,452 ghost workers into the state payroll, resulting in an estimated annual loss of ₦13.72 billion. The audit, conducted between June and December 2023, revealed that the state’s payroll stood at ₦4.48 billion monthly, covering 37,456 staff and 17,918 pensioners. However, after verification, the genuine payroll was reduced to ₦3.34 billion monthly, accounting for 29,004 confirmed staff members ¹ ² ³.
The Osun State Government has disputed these figures, claiming that a re-verification exercise showed only 1,316 individuals couldn’t be verified. The government accuses the audit firm of inflating the numbers to increase their fees, while the firm alleges the government is trying to cover up the fraud ⁴.
Would you like to know more about the allegations or the government’s response to this scandal?
Osun State’s Debt Under Governor Adeleke Surges To N336billion Over Heavy Reliance On Loans
According to a report released by the Auditor-General of Osun State, Kolapo Idris, a detailed analysis of the state’s fiscal strategies has been provided.
The Osun State Government’s 2023 financial audit has revealed a staggering accumulation of loans and borrowings, bringing the state’s total debt to over N336billion.
According to a report released by the Auditor-General of Osun State, Kolapo Idris, a detailed analysis of the state’s fiscal strategies has been provided.
The audit disclosed that domestic debts include a salary bailout of N21.6 billion, restructured commercial bank loans of N73.9 billion, and a Federal Government intervention fund worth N18.4 billion.
Meanwhile, on the international front, the state’s external debt stands at N78.5 billion, stating its heavy reliance on borrowed funds.
Further examination of loans managed by the Domestic Debt Management Office (DMO) reveals additional liabilities.
These include undisclosed loans (Note 44) totalling N114 billion, a budget support facility of N17.2 billion, an Excess Crude Account (ECA) facility of N9 billion, and infrastructure loans amounting to N4.3 billion, pushing DMO-managed domestic loans to N144.6 billion.
Also, the state’s public debt charges for 2023 amounted to N16.73 billion, falling short by over N3 billion from the N19.85 billion that was initially budgeted.
The variance of N3.12 billion primarily resulted from lower-than-expected domestic interest and principal payments on treasury bills and long-term borrowings.
Meanwhile, domestic interest payments totalled N1.57 billion, below the budgeted N2.38 billion, while principal payments amounted to N15.15 billion, under budget by N2.33 billion.
However, the state’s travel and transport expenses totalled N4.38 billion, reflecting a minor shortfall of N253.7 million compared to the estimated N4.63 billion.
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The Adelekes of Osun State: An inherently evil political dynasty?
Amos Adetunji
The vexed issue of political dynasty is a global phenomenon. From the technologically advanced West to Asia and Africa, there are many families in which many members are involved in party politics, both as elected and appointed politicians.
In Nigeria, one family that is keeping the fire of political dynasty burning ferociously, is the Adeleke family of Osun State. In the last forty years or so, this political family, well-known for its many cross-cultural marriages, has produced three Senators, two Governors and numerous other appointees especially in Osun, their home state, and they are still counting.
Now, the Adelekes, under Senator Ademola Adeleke, the current governor of Osun State, have hit a brick wall in their long fairy-tale political journey that began with Raji Ayoola Adeleke, the family’s patriarch.
Governor Adeleke is currently facing a public backlash against his government; this is in addition to multiple allegations bordering on nepotism, corruption, partiality, incompetence, lethargy and unseriousness in government business.
Osun is now under the full control of Adeleke family led by Deji , a billionaire and capitalist , who is allegedly ruling the state through Kazeem Akinleye , the Chief of Staff ,his proxy . At the other end is “Yeye Dupe” ,his younger sister and the governor’s elder sister who is calling the shot when it comes to contracts . “The confusion now is that we don’t know who is in charge among Kazeem,Demola or Dupe”, a civil servant told this medium. Moreover, the state money is now focused disproportionately on developing Ede , their home town at expense of other major towns in the state .
But there is also the issue of reckless government spending in Osun State. A couple of weeks ago, Osun workers told the governor to reduce the budget for his office. They berated the governor for playing lip-service to their welfare while he feeds fat with their commonwealth, stating that almost N30 billion spent for the office of the governor in less than two years of the Administration could have been used to offset the outstanding benefits.
The workers also told the governor to implement the 70 thousand minimum wage package recently negotiated on the workers’ behalf by the Nigeria Labour Congress, NLC. The Union, in a statement by its Organizing Secretary, Comrade Gabriel Adeoye, had said that in spite of the increase in the federal allocation coming to the state since the removal of fuel subsidy, the government of Adeleke deliberately ignored the patriotic call to pay the deserving emoluments to workers. Instead, he devoted his time and resources propagating falsehood in the media to earn cheap and ignoble popularity.
According to him, “Governor Adeleke, contrary to his electoral promise of wiping tears of Osun workers and pensioners, has not done anything more remarkable than what we used to experience. In 2024, for instance, the government budgeted to spend N5 billion as Contributory Pension, but as at June, only N842m, representing 16%, had been paid.”
One of Governor Ademola Adeleke’s problem, and every one agrees on this, is the fact that he is not paying attention to the voices of the people. The belief generally, is that since Adeleke came to power by an overwhelming support across party lines, it behoves him to listen to the people. Unfortunately, this is not happening. Recently, (8th September, 2024) and this is instructive, the Osun State chapter of the All Progressives Congress, APC, called on Adeleke to hand over his Chief of Staff, Alhaji Kazeem Akinleye to the Code of Conduct Bureau over N297m UNIOSUN TETFUND contract scam.
In a press statement signed by Chief KOLA OLABISI,
Director of Media and Information, Osun State APC, the opposition party in the state asked the governor to immediately begin an investigation into the allegation because of the huge money involved.
“The Osun State chapter of the All Progressives Congress (APC) has tasked the state Governor Ademola Adeleke to come out clean on the raging issue of the N297 million Osun State University (UNIOSUN) Tertiary Education Trust Fund (TETFUND) contract scam involving his Chief of Staff, Alhaji Kazeem Akinleye, describing the justification of the governor as mere diversionary meant to confuse the right-thinking members of the society.
“Akinleye was accused of using his office and affinity to corner N297 million UNIOSUN TETFUND contract for his company, AKINSAS INTERBIZ LIMITED.”
But in a swift reaction to the raging sleaze, the governor described the allegation as ‘malicious, falsehood. He added that the harbingers of the story are working day and night to cause public disorder. So, the governor called on the people of the state to go about their legitimate business.
However, this did not go down well with the APC. They questioned the governor’s clean bill of health and insisted that Akinleye remains guilty as charged.
“In view of the foregoing, we state that such a reckless stance of the governor, to the effect that an innocuous demand for accountability and probity from public officer is seditious and capable of causing ‘public disorder,’ is not only distasteful but also unpatriotic and pedestrian. The allegation against Mr. Akinleye is weighty and so grievous that a decent and responsible governor would not wait to be prodded before he takes action of handing such an embattled Chief of Staff over to the Code of Conduct Bureau or Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC) for proper investigation. The governor’s explainer that Akinleye is not culpable because he is not a member of the UNIOSUN Governing Council or a member of the board of directors of TETFUND is spurious just as it is vacuous. Does it mean the governor himself can deploy the instrumentality of his office to curry favour or contract for his company in the state-owned institutions under a pretext that he resigned his directorship on assumption of office?
“The drafters of the law did not envisage that a public officer would resign his or her interest in a company only for such a business entity to land mouth-watering contracts in the state where the founder of the company is a key policy maker and administrator. While we hold that Akinkas Interbiz Limited is at liberty to bid for contracts in any public institutions in the country, despite the current status of its founder, it becomes inappropriate if such business activities include hustling for contracts in state-owned institutions in Osun, where Mr. Kazeem Akinleye is the Alpha and Omega and the de facto governor.
Alhaji Kazeem Akinleye, Governor Adeleke’s powerful Chief of Staff, is at the centre of many controversies and scandals rocking Osun State at the moment. Unfortunately, Akinyele’s activities are bringing a bad public image to the government and people of the state. Apart from the UNIOSUN TETFUND contract scam that still hangs on his neck, the Chief of Staff has also been called out on contract and appointment racketeering, overbearing influence outside his jurisdiction and undue favouritism. There are also those who are always quick to accuse Akinleye and Madam Dupe, the governor’s sister, of working continually with their powerful offices and affiliates to undermine the governor because of the governor’s weak and unserious disposition to governance.
For many people in the state and even beyond, Osun is now in the throes of a major governance crisis occasioned by unseriousness, failure of the governor to be ready, nepotism and tokenism. And some people have warned that Adeleke should be held responsible for what the state has now become under his watch in terms of governance. Other people less charitable, also cite all the frivolities around the seat of power, including the governor’s penchant for dancing, lazing around and partying. And they insist that Osun is already seated in the pocket of the Adeleke dynasty. There is also the angle of Deji Adeleke, the well-known billionaire in the family who recently donated One Billion Naira to Cherubin and Seraphine, the Church where their mother worshiped. But why are all the donations coming at a time like this when the family is now fully in charge of Osun State treasury?
Akinleye is on the board of Segilola ,a gold mining company while the governor strategically appointed Ede indigenes as special assistant and executive secretary of Osun state mining Agency to capture that sector for himself.
He is now busy dualizing the major road in Ede at the expense of other major towns that voted him to power .
Even the head of Osun state internal revenue service who is from Ilesha is allegedly Deji’s proxy
If anything, the Adeleke family should be worried about their son, a governor that is underperforming. And many, including the family’s friends, believe that he is not a good ambassador by his conduct and bearing. In fact, in some quarters, the governor is considered immature, whimsical and irritating. According to this critical group, somebody with a controversial secondary school certificate is unfit to govern a state like Osun in the first place. In their view, money is the only thing that the Adelekes have to offer, and that is not enough in a world where knowledge and ideas rule.
But because this is Nigeria where people easily forget, the ever-present issue of collective amnesia will always be there. Isiaka Aseleke, the governor’s elder brother who became governor of Osun State at the age of 36 is a case in point here. He ended up as a miserable non-performing governor who later apologized for all of his failings. “I have learnt my lessons,” he once said. But the same man was later rewarded for doing absolutely nothing as governor with a Senate ticket. He made no significant impact at the Upper Chamber, both in his home state and at the national level. Ademola eventually completed his brother’s tenure at the senate without also making any impact.
For those who still remember, Isiaka Adeleke went to the great beyond with allegations like stealing water materials with Abiola Morakinyo at Asijere Water Dam after leaving office many years ago. As a matter of fact, his profligacy also shocked many people, especially with the number of cars he bought for himself and his cronies.
Another troubling part in the current administration in Osun State is the brazen and unfair treatment of other citizens of the state by Ede people, led by the governor himself. Ede leads other zones in the number of Permanent Secretaries, Commissioners, Senior Special Assistants, Members of Board, other appointments and siting of projects.
The truth is that it is a government by proxy, and the Chief of Staff is head of the proxy gang as a representative of Deji Adeleke. There are also other layers of double-dealing led by Madam Dupe. These double face agents who have infiltrated ministries, department and agencies of government. They are in charge of contact awards and execution. All these proxies and the ones behind the scenes are responsible for scheming out both the Secretary to the State Government and the Deputy Governor who have no voice in this administration.
As things stand, Kazeem Akinyele, the stupendously rich Chief of Staff, remains the strongest man in this administration. Kazeem is widely believed to be the defacto governor with enormous powers because of his closeness to the family. And he continues to serve diligently as the eyes and ears of the governor’s elder brother whose interest, he protects. But the question waiting for an answer is: Who, among the governor, all-powerful Kazeem and Madam Dupe, is the governor? And for how long will this issue of political dynasty remain in Osun State?
Behind Demola Adeleke’s Populism: A House of Cards With Litany of Scandals
is shaping up to be memorable, and if history is a guide, Osun voters will ensure it lives up to that billing. The campaign razzmatazz and polished rhetoric that often sway electorates elsewhere are unlikely to move them this time. Glib promises and disingenuous claims will fall flat against a population that has watched potential outpace performance for too long. As August 15 approaches, registration numbers are climbing not from enthusiasm for pageantry, but from frustration. Voters want jobs that match their education, visible infrastructure that matches the state’s cultural and agricultural endowment, and a leader who is unmistakably in command.
The above view may not be farfetched . Osun sits on heavy but under-performing potential: fertile land, skilled farmers, strategic location, cultural assets, and a youthful population that remain trapped by weak infrastructure, job scarcity, and decades of governance gaps. Turning that paradox into shared prosperity will require more than promises. It demands a leader with the wherewithal and intellectual depth to convert assets into output, and the political capability to unseat the incumbent governor. A look into the potentials, the challenges , the wherewithals and the capability of each candidate in the race for the Osun State Government House confirmed the views above .
The Potentials
The above resolution is well grounded with facts and figures . They recognize the humongous strengths Osun holds. Osun sits on more than it currently shows for — its fertile land, solid mineral deposits, and a population with a strong education base give it a foundation that few states can match, while its central location makes it a natural link for trade and movement across the South West. From its human capital and tourism brand to its strategic location ; they are equally aware of the weaknesses: FAAC dependency, decayed infrastructure, and a stalled industrial base.
The Challenges
The challenge has been that limited revenue and infrastructure gaps keep those advantages from translating into jobs and growth, so opportunities like agro-processing, digital services, and alignment with federal programs often pass the state by. If those gaps aren’t addressed, insecurity and economic shocks will continue to eat into whatever progress is made. But used well, the same constraints can force smarter partnerships and innovation, turning Osun’s weaknesses into the pressure point for building industries that keep value and money within the state.This time, the ballot is being treated as an instrument of correction, not celebration.
What’s wrong with it is that policy has historically been downstream of allocation–FAAC inflows, debt service deductions, and political sharing — have historically dictated policy, with state decisions reacting to how money arrives and is distributed rather than policy determining how resources should be allocated.-. In the past, debt service consumed up to 91% of FAAC in a quarter, leaving little for capital projects, while infrastructure deficits, agricultural dependence without processing, and high vulnerability — over 52% of the population classified as vulnerable— kept growth sluggish. Even now, recurrent spending still dominates the budget.
With the above picture , the economic engine of the State of the Living Spring is under-performing .What needs to be done is to shift from passive allocation dependence to active leverage. A state changes its strategic position not by wishing away its constraints, but by redesigning how those constraints interact with its assets and the outside world. It starts with foresight — seeing where opportunities in agro-processing, digital services, or regional trade will be in five years, not just next quarter
Leadership for the State Potential Optimization
The only leader who can truly unlock Osun’s potential and make the most of where the state stands today is one who can see ahead, design the steps to get there, push beyond what seems possible, and pull in outside resources to make it happen. Without that combination of foresight to imagine the future, architecture to connect today’s actions to it, stretch to force innovation under constraint, and leverage to multiply limited means through partnerships, Osun will keep settling for slow progress instead of turning its strengths into real results. It isn’t about the popularity, it’s strategic capability — the ability to close the gap between what the state produces and the allocation it needs to keep running. In Osun’s contest for the governorship seat this August, the candidate who displays that capability will stand apart from the crowd.
Sequel to the above issues raised , the battle line is clear, when the current Osun’s politics is interpreted , without any noise, one pattern emerges: elections here are expected to be decided by the gap between what the state produces and what Abuja allocates. Whoever closes that gap, or at least manages it with competence, owns the argument.
By that standard, 2026 is a three-way race. It’s a contest be among Demola Adeleke , a governor who survives on federal inflows, Najeem Salaam, a candidate with intellectual depth and experience but with the bridge to power or franchise doubted by the electorates who fear its anti federal disposition , and AMBO, the only one whose agenda , according to him , is to change the equation with the backing from Abuja as an additional advantage .
Demola Adeleke’s Record and the Limits of a FAAC-Fueled Term
Beyond the ongoing populism, Demola Adeleke is allegedly the least for the job when optimising Osun potential is the question. . Four years in, Adeleke has relied on a FAAC revenue boom and visible projects but has not shifted Osun from dependency to productivity, with gaps in institutional depth, due process, and long-term planning despite having the fiscal space to prioritize merit and execution. Najeem Salaam and AMBO present an alternative focused on earning rather than sharing. Salaam brings legislative grounding as a former Speaker with hands-on command of budgets, negotiation, and policy mechanics. AMBO brings technocratic expertise in finance, capital structuring, and investment advisory. Both have mapped approaches to stretch scarce resources, attract private capital, and apply planning to education, enterprise, and mineral value chains. Closing Osun’s production-allocation gap will demand reading MTEFs, renegotiating debt, and designing bankable projects that draw federal and private funds. Against rivals leaning on mobilization, Salaam and AMBO offer the policy literacy and stakeholder skill to make architecture and leverage operational, framing 2026 as a choice between continuity and building economic sovereignty.
Osun heads to the polls this August, and one question cuts through the music and the rallies: Has Governor Ademola Adeleke earned another four years? His supporters don’t hesitate. They drive you to a new road in Ilesa, remind you that alert tones now hit civil servants’ phones before month-end, and say the air feels calmer than it did four years ago. After the trauma of “half salary” and unpaid arrears, that calm feels like progress. In Nigerian politics, relief wins elections. But relief is not reform, and in Osun, the difference between the two has always been decided by one thing: the monthly check from Abuja called FAAC. When that check is fat, the state builds and pays. When it is thin, the state stalls and owes. The real question, then, is whether Adeleke has broken that cycle or simply ridden its best wave.
The ongoing campaign that he performed better than his predecessors is a ruse. The last three governors did not operate on the same playing field, and FAAC proves it. From 2011 to 2014, oil prices soared and Osun collected about ₦4bn to ₦5bn every month, which Governor Aregbesola turned into roads, schools, an airport, and the Opon Imo tablet project. Then oil crashed. By 2016, FAAC had collapsed to ₦1.8bn to ₦2.5bn a month while debt payments swallowed nearly half of it, and that was when half-salary began. The rule was set: boom times build, bust times break. Governor Oyetola inherited that bust. FAAC sat between ₦2.5bn and ₦3.8bn, dipped to ₦1.9bn during Covid, and roughly ₦1.2bn vanished monthly into debt service. His job was triage. He paid full salaries, avoided mass layoffs, and froze mega-projects. He managed a lean season. FAAC gave him stability, not space. Adeleke stepped into the opposite. Subsidy removal and FX reform doubled allocations to states. Osun’s FAAC jumped from around ₦3.5bn in 2022 to between ₦6bn and ₦8bn by 2024 and 2025, while debt took a smaller share. For the first time since 2014, a governor had real headroom.
That swing in allocation, not ideology, explains the gap between Adeleke, Oyetola, and Aregbesola. When Abuja’s check is fat, Osun spends and builds. When it thins, Osun slows down. Adeleke’s campaign bets that voters won’t ask the next question: What happens if FAAC drops? Can he deliver the same results without Tinubu’s fiscal boom? His team offers no plan for that scenario. The message is simple: pay salaries from FAAC, use the balance for a few visible projects, then celebrate. It works as optics. It fails as a strategy for the next decade. If Osun wants to move from dependence to productivity, the next governor must deliver four things this administration has not shown.
First is foresight — a 10-year industrial and agro-processing plan that positions Osun for where food chains, tech services, and West African trade will be in 2030, not just next quarter. Second is architecture — designing tax systems, export pipelines, and institutions that outlive elections, because projects end but strong systems keep paying. Third is stretch — refusing to relax because FAAC arrived, and instead demanding real performance from civil servants and real job creation from the private sector, not just contracts. Comfort kills growth. Fourth is leverage — using data, relationships, and policy to attract private capital and federal support without mortgaging the state’s future. Other states are doing it. Osun can too.
On those four tests, Adeleke’s record is thin. There is no public 10-year industrial plan. IGR still looks tiny next to the FAAC windfall. Farmers sell raw produce instead of processed goods. The Omoluabi Free Trade Zone and DCTS opportunities remain largely on paper. In practice, policy still follows allocation; it does not drive it.
Beyond that structural gap, other liabilities shadow his second-term bid. Too many strategic offices sit within his family orbit — Works with the governor, Budget and Planning, Federal Affairs, local government administration, Government House Affairs, and even ceremonial roles for two “First Ladies.”
His team argues that loyalty and competence are not crimes. But public service runs on merit and distance. When appointments read like a family tree, people start to believe the state is being run as a family estate. The problem deepens with procurement. Big “Infra Plan” contracts went out without open bidding. Budget performance reports arrive late despite record inflows. Mining licenses get renegotiated while whispers of insider benefit spread. Early in his term, Executive Orders sacked workers and traditional rulers. Legal or not, the message to the civil service was clear: jobs can end at the ballot box. Palliatives routed through party structures turned relief into a loyalty test.
The government’s defense never changes: critics are playing politics, so look at the flyovers and paid salaries. But a new bridge does not explain a hidden contract. Paying wages does not justify why one family holds so many offices. In a boom, transparency should be easier, not rarer. In Osun today, it is not. The phrase “Ede factor” has become shorthand for how power is shared, and in politics, that kind of talk becomes legacy. No one denies Adeleke steadied the state. He paid salaries and spent when the money came.
But the 2026 election will not be won on calm and cement alone. Osun’s core problems — low productivity, weak value chains, and total dependence on Abuja — remain untouched. Solving them demands a governor who can plan ahead, build systems that last, demand more, and pull in real investment. That requires a depth of technical and administrative skill Adeleke has not displayed in three years. You cannot give what you do not have. So the campaign will keep selling roads and salaries. That may hold if FAAC stays high. If it drops, the state will slow again and the blame will shift to Abuja. “Imole” promised light. Four years later, it feels more like a glare — bright enough to distract, not enough to guide. Until Osun gets a plan that survives the end of the monthly allocation, the state will keep running in circles
