In the land where elders say “the tree that bears fruit is the one most pelted with stones,” the unfolding political drama in Oyo State ahead of 2027 has begun to wear the face of an old proverb.
When a young tree begins to grow taller in the forest, the ancient trees either give it shade or fight for sunlight.
Today, Rt. Hon. Adebo Ogundoyin appears to be that young tree.
And the winds blowing around him are no ordinary winds.
They are winds scented with rumours, heavy with whispers of betrayal, impeachment, and carefully laid traps.
But as our fathers would say, “the masquerade dancing in the marketplace is not without the drumbeat from somewhere.”
The sudden storm surrounding the Speaker raises a question every son and daughter of Oyo must ask:
Who is beating this drum?
Who seeks to turn brother against brother, loyalty into suspicion, and ambition into offence?
For how does a man who has walked side by side with Governor Seyi Makinde suddenly wake up to destroy the same house he helped to build?
The river does not suddenly forget its source.
A loyal ally does not become a traitor overnight unless there are hands stirring the water from beneath.
This is why many now see the rumours not as truth, but as smoke from a fire deliberately lit in the dark.
In Yoruba wisdom, “when the big masquerade enters the square, smaller dancers must watch their steps.”
The names being whispered in the corridors of power are not names without weight.
On one side stands a kingly political figure, an elder whose voice still echoes strongly in the affairs of the state.
On the other stands a woman of immense influence, a matriarch of power, whose political reach many still describe as long and formidable.
Together, they represent what many now describe as the elephant and the lioness in the political jungle.
Yet in the midst of these towering figures stands one young man — an orphan who climbed the mountain of politics without the shelter of a father’s shadow.
As the elders say, “the child who has no one to carry him learns quickly how to walk.”
Adebo Ogundoyin’s journey was not one paved with inherited comfort.
It was not a throne handed down in the night.
It was a ladder climbed rung by rung through resilience, sacrifice, and the trust of his people.
The boy who lost the umbrella of parental cover learned to dance in the rain.
And today, that same boy has become a man whose rising influence seems to unsettle those who believe power must remain within familiar circles.
But must the orphaned calf be driven away from the stream because the older bulls are thirsty?
Must one man’s political future be buried so that others may plant their own ambitions?
This is where the conscience of Oyo must speak.
For there is a difference between political competition and political suffocation.
As the proverb warns, “when the elder uses his left hand to point the way, the child must look carefully.”
If indeed there are attempts to pressure the Speaker to abandon his governorship ambition, then such moves raise serious moral questions.
Politics should be a race, not a wrestling match fixed before the whistle.
Let visions contend.
Let ideas compete.
Let the people decide.
That is the true market square of democracy.
Anything outside that is merely a game of shadows.
The Speaker has publicly reaffirmed his loyalty to Governor Makinde and rejected every allegation of inducement.
His record has remained consistent.
So why the sudden campaign of suspicion?
Again, the proverb answers:
“When hunters accuse the goat of eating yam, one must first ask who owns the rope around its neck.”
The accusations appear less like facts and more like arrows shot from behind the wall.
For power, no matter how mighty, is like the morning dew.
It shines brightly but does not survive the noon sun.
The throne is temporary.
The office is borrowed.
Influence is seasonal.
As our elders remind us, “no king reigns forever, but the stories of his reign outlive him.”
When the dust of 2027 finally settles, what story will history tell?
Will it speak of leaders who watered the garden for younger flowers to bloom?
Or of those who uprooted every seed that threatened to grow beside them?
Will it remember wisdom, fairness, and courage?
Or fear, intimidation, and political hunger?
Oyo must choose carefully.
For the future of the state cannot belong only to the old drums of yesterday.
It must also belong to the new voices of tomorrow.
Rt. Hon. Adebo Ogundoyin may be one of those voices.
And if anyone believes otherwise, the path is simple:
Meet him in the open field of democracy.
Bring forth your vision.
Face the people.
Seek their mandate.
For as the elders say, “it is in the marketplace that the quality of yam is known, not in whispered conversations behind the barn.”
Anything short of that is not politics.
It is persecution dressed in agbada.
And that would be a tragedy not only for one man, but for the soul of Oyo State itself.
