BY ARIWOOLA SAMUEL AKINWALE

There was a time when a reasonable level of professionalism characterised political communication from both our ministers of information and the president’s spokespersons. We saw this under the brilliant Frank Nweke Jr. and Professor Jerry Gana, who brought panache and style to political communication.

Segun Adeniyi demonstrated skillfulness under Umaru Yar’Adua, while Reuben Abati and the late Doyin Okupe brought formidable intellectual grounding and defence under Goodluck Jonathan.

With current practice, you do not need any serious training in communication to measure up—anyone with the capacity to reel off impolite sentences, insults, and throw tantrums or even rant like babies could well hold their own in that circle. The reigning style is social media doggish attack—a combination of ad hominem and vitriolic messaging.

This played out again last week. Dele Momodu, widely known as Bob Dee, appeared on Seun Okinbaloye’s programme on Channels Television, where he accused President Bola Tinubu of surpassing the late General Sani Abacha in dictatorship, following recent developments of political defections in the country.

For this reason, he was immediately taken to the cleaners by both Reno Omokri and Femi Fani-Kayode. So many unprintable things about him followed from write-ups by Fani and Reno. In like manner, Bob Dee responded.

Aside from their private social media handles where despicable rejoinders followed, Fani-Kayode used his opinion pieces on major digital news media to publish such inglorious remarks against Dele. All this happened while the media amplified it left and right.

It is part of our politics for politicians to fight dirty in public and even lie against one another, while the public relishes the banter. But not so for spokespersons—who are expected to be trained professionals in the art of policy communication.

Aristotle believed rhetoric is permitted only in achieving an ethical end. But the common currency in Nigerian political discourse today is argumentum ad hominem—attack on persons as opposed to their facts or argument.

Until Ajuri Ngelale’s sudden resignation months ago created a vacuum in the presidency, he and Sunday Dare still upheld that professional standard.

In fairness to Bob Dee also, as an opposition voice, he rarely engages in this unethical acrobatics—except when lured into it, as seen now. He had similar banter with Minister Nyesom Wike some time ago when challenged.

So much has been written about the need for decorum between Bob Dee and Fani-Kayode, with admonitions for them to focus on policy issues as against throwing banters. I’m more curious about how we got so low and how public discourse easily transmutes to private matters.

In the early Fourth Republic, that standard was upheld, perhaps in the absence of any formidable opposition, until the All Progressives Congress entered the race in 2015. Then ridiculous things became propagandist outrages against policy commentary and criticism. We have had at least good deliveries from that office until that lot fell into the hands of social media influencers like Reno Omokri.

Now, political spokespersons—appointed and self-appointed—often resort to roforofo (pig) fight as against real policy debates and discourse.

This recent one once again highlights our penchant for distractions as against real debates.

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We recall how Lai Mohammed, before 2015 as APC chairman, told the public in a rally in Abuja that former President Goodluck Jonathan soiled his office from early morning drinking bouts of local gin. That pattern of messaging became structured in the office of communication once power shifted to APC.

However, today, the opposition is not better; the practice cuts across party lines. Some pundits believe this aggressive style has emanated from both political survival and audience demand in the social media age.

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But while we can pardon the (un)official spokespersons on social media, what of official spokespersons? This degeneracy from official spokespersons began to emerge more clearly when Femi Adesina and Malam Garba Shehu turned criticisms into pushback in 2015. At the time, whoever criticised the conduct and programmes of late President Muhammadu Buhari became the subject of verbal and media assaults.

I recall how people like Matthew Hassan Kukah, Wole Soyinka, Olusegun Obasanjo, Ango Abdullahi, late David Edwin Clark and Ayo Adebanjo all became “demonised” at the time for speaking truth to power. Obasanjo was nicknamed the divider-in-chief by Garba Shehu; he reminded Wole Soyinka that he’s a professor of fiction, and not faction, for opposing total lockdown during the COVID-19 pandemic. Matthew Kukah’s priesthood was questioned at one time by him. Then, Femi Adesina responded to critics up north like Arewa Consultative Forum, while Shehu attacked southward ones like Afenifere and Christian Association of Nigeria—a strategic conversed direction from their ethnic and religious base.

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The increase in social media penetration further enhanced this development: large followership on social media and the ability to influence opinion have become requisite qualifications for spokespersons. For instance, in 2011, Nigeria had around 4 million Facebook users and a quite negligible Twitter presence. But by 2024, there were over 36 million social media users in Nigeria. This is about a 900% increase. This explains why the “arena” has moved from serious messaging from old media to the new, where outrage is rewarded more than policy communication.

In fact, for the first time, that position became official when Bashir Ahmad became the first official personal assistant on new media to President Muhammadu Buhari in 2016, making him a primary handler of the Nigerian presidency’s social media presence in the digital age, alongside Tolu Ogunlesi and Lauretta Onochie.

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Lauretta’s messaging remains archetypal “fight dirty”, bolekaja streak—something quite typical of the dialogue you find in the streets of Oshodi in Lagos.

Under Buhari, the quality of professionalism in political communication went so low that we read ahead the president’s speech several hours before he came on air—we began to hear of “leaked speech” from then. Memes and comedies mimicking the president’s presentation preceded his speech. It has also happened under the current administration.

But this recent one is even more confusing. The public has learnt to look more to the social media handles of Reno, Dele and Bwala for responses to opposition. It’s not clear whether they are official or unofficial, especially Reno and Fani. These president’s “proxy” communicators say things the government officially cannot. Hence, for their unwary followers, it is taken as official.

Many who had thought their ambassadorial role would diminish that are disappointed. They both brought greater fervour than they had used to attack Tinubu as opposition to now speak for him where it either matters or not, perhaps enough to prove their loyalty. It was in this spirit that Dele came under attack like Omoyele Sowore, Peter Obi, Nasir el-Rufai and Rotimi Amaechi among opposition sidekicks in the hands of these emergency spokespersons of the president.

The democratisation of social media has not only enhanced but also exposed our fancies for beer parlour banter and penchant for old wives’ tales more than serious discourse.

Frankly, this is at a cost to the public. Says Peter Loge, director, Project on Ethics in Political Communication in the United States: “The quality of our conversations reflects the quality of our democracy. If the conversation is corrupt, unethical and shallow, if it’s preying on our worst instincts, then our democracy will reflect that. We can have a conversation that is honest, that is clear, that is intellectually rigorous—and it can also be aggressive, direct and angry, and our democracy will be better.”

Yet, whoever pays attention to the vitriol hurled between Femi and Bob Dee would gain a better understanding of Nigerian politics.

This optics shows how friendship networks and kinship ties shape political appointments through bootlicking of the political office holders—seeing how the trio throw accusatory salvos over favour-seeking from political offices. From the exchanges, one sees how transactional favours shape our media optics, image promotion and how desperation for appointment overrules dignified practices—revealing secret political theatrics among the elite class, things hidden from public glare that the casual observers take for granted. It is in the possibility of these vituperative horrors that both have been advised to “off-the-mic”, our slang for shielding dirty linens. Dele’s rejoinder reveals such damning vanities and emptiness about his target, if taken seriously.

It’s this development that we now contend with. But while both Bob Dee and Fani-Kayode have sheathed their swords, this is not the last time we will be having it this way.

From experience, as we get closer to the 2027 election, we should expect more from both camps. This is predictable because of the characters involved and the level of professionalism among political communicators at the centre of our national politics. It will get better when professionalism occupies the stage. But until then, let us sit back, fasten our seatbelts, while waiting for the next bombast.

Ariwoola Samuel Akinwale wrote this piece from Lagos. He can be contacted via ariwoolaakinwale@gmail.com