“It is better to be hated for your virtues than to be loved for your vices.”- Matshona Dhiiwayo
Peter Obi has boldly and severely declared that while he may not be a saint, he is certainly not a thief. This declaration sets him apart from the average Nigerian politician and reinforces his integrity, backed by a solid record. Critics often overlook his humanity, conveniently forgetting that he operates in a political environment riddled with corruption. Because he is untainted by theft and holds few flaws, those with ulterior motives seek to exaggerate his minor shortcomings and equate them with the glaring crimes of corrupt politicians.
Few instances may suffice, Obi’s political party is in turmoil, a crisis not of his making, yet many expect him to play the same corrupt game by injecting money to compete with those who thrive on bribery. As his party faces legal challenges, critics believe he should not stop at paying his lawyers but should also line the pockets of Judges and those in power. After winning an election, false results are fabricated by INEC to undermine him because he refuses to engage in bribery. They demand that he become a political warlord, paying youth to confront armed security forces that blatantly disregard international standards for handling protests.
The question is, can any notion of doing what is right exist when financial incentive is rooted in the perpetuation of wrong?
When people say Peter Obi would be a great President but question how he can achieve this without playing politics, they are, in essence, telling him to join the band of thieves and marauders that have spoiled this country so that he can be seen as ‘a serious contender’ bribing his way and making empty promises. There is a misguided belief that one must partake in corruption to gain power, akin to claiming you can’t take from a monkey without offering a banana. Yet we also hear the defeatist mantra that if you can’t beat them, join them. This mindset has led Nigeria, one of the richest countries in the world, to become the global poverty headquarters, with 40% of its population living in multidimensional poverty, while a mere 7% hoards over 75% of the nation’s wealth.
Renowned International Development Economist, Basil Odilim aptly characterised Peter Obi’s political approach: “Obi does not trade in the ancient currency of patronage. He does not seek praise or fund voices to create a narrative.” That is the essence of Obi; he does not expect to gain favour with systemic beneficiaries. This explains why those who thrive on the status quo in measuring Obi – such as Reno Omokri, Daniel Bwala, Femi Fani-Kayode, and my brother and colleague, Azubuike Ishiekwene, among others – find no place with him. Not when Olusegun Obasanjo made the public know who Femi Fani-Kayode is: “Femi Fani-Kayode is my boy. Provide him with food, and he will eat and then sing for you. He’s a smart boy.”
Many who initially aligned with Obi have since fallen away in disgruntlement after realising that his vision involves hard work aimed at uplifting the poor, not throwing a lavish feast for the greedy. Obi’s politics is anchored on the philosophy of the 32nd President of the United States Franklin Roosevelt that “the test of our progress is not whether we add more to the abundance of those who have much but whether we provide enough for those who have little.”
It’s no surprise, therefore, that after Peter Obi visited Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso in Kano and received a warm welcome from the Kwankwassiyya Movement on March 15, 2026, many who had underestimated him began to panic. In Abuja, Azu Ishiekwene interpreted the euphoria of the visit as Obi’s transition from a serious contender to a mere mascot. In Ilorin, an irrelevant and outdated judiciary figure, one Justice Ayo Salami who was controversially removed from office for some curious issues by President Goodluck Jonathan emerged, attempting to undermine Obi’s rising influence with baseless arguments as they felt compelled to manufacture controversy around him, disregarding the glaring issues faced by others in the political arena. This old figure whose relationship with President Bola Ahmed Tinubu in and out of office is not hidden failed to grasp that Obi’s nomination as the Labour Party’s Presidential candidate in 2022 was legitimate, while conveniently ignoring the real political inconsistencies around his friend that reflect the true chaos of the system including having a Senate President Godswil Akpabio who picked a Senatorial ticket he did not contest.
What all these players including some funny weekly vision-seeing men of God are yet to come to terms with is that Peter Obi is not merely a presence in the political landscape; he represents a transformative movement that challenges the status quo and demands genuine accountability in governance. And this is a fact they are refusing to accept or live with.
The concept of a mascot as we commonly know it, prominently featured in the sports community, represents more than just a person, animal, or object; it embodies an identity, promotes branding, and is often viewed as a source of good luck for host countries during monumental events like the World Cup or the Olympics. Originating from the French word “mascottee” in the 19th century, the Oxford Dictionary defines it as something or someone believed to bring good fortune, particularly linked to specific organisations or events. Thus, when someone labels Peter Obi’s trajectory in Nigeria’s political landscape as that of a mascot, they may be misguided in their interpretation of what a mere mascot truly represents.
Peter Obi stands as the embodiment of a new Nigeria. Just as mascots promote brands while infusing a sense of hope during competitions, many Nigerians—especially the youth—view Obi as a beacon of promise capable of delivering on the visions they hold for a transformed Nigeria. The “Obi Mascot” can be illustrated with powerful slogans such as “From Consumption to Production,” symbolising industry and agriculture rather than mere office politics. “We No Dey Give Shishi” encapsulates a grassroots movement fueled by volunteerism instead of traditional godfatherism. As a bridge, Obi vividly connects the wisdom of the elders with the technological vigour of the youth.
Dismissing Peter Obi, whose political brand has stormed through the nation since 2022 as merely a “mascot” is a flawed and divisive perspective. This misrepresentation attempts to reduce him from a serious contender for power to a mere flagbearer for an idea. This certainly cannot accurately capture a man who is indeed redefining and reshaping the political landscape with impactful ideas.
In political history, once a leader is relegated to being a mascot, they risk losing their influence but gain a peculiar form of immortality. This, however, does not apply to Obi whose modesty remains outstanding. When a contender becomes just a mascot, substance gives way to catchy slogans but we all see Obi, as a serious contender, retaining his identity as the “frugal governor,” the data-savvy individual who scrutinises every expenditure.
“The black legs of politics” do not fear a mascot; they have a distinct apprehension towards a formidable contender. A mascot remains on the sidelines, content to cheer while others engage in the gritty game. No informed observer of Nigerian politics since Obi emerged can credibly claim he is a mere sideline player. If he were, the ruling government and entrenched politicians wouldn’t view him as a significant threat, actively seeking to undermine his aspirations at every turn.
The truth is that Obi has adeptly wielded the mascot status as a “Trojan Horse,” facilitating the establishment of a shadow cabinet, a grassroots structure, and a youth bloc. The outcome is a nostalgic icon—not a militant figure, but a persistent political force that commands the national discourse. If Obi has indeed transitioned into a mascot, it inspires a generation to envision a better Nigeria and actively strive for it. The youth rallying under the Obidient Movement understand they are following a leader into battle, not merely carrying an effigy through the streets.
To frame Peter Obi as a “mascot” for a New Nigeria signifies his evolution from a contender for office to an extraordinary political phenomenon: a living leader distilled into a powerful, recognisable brand. By 2026, Obi has transformed from a campaign strategy into a cultural cornerstone. He is no longer just pursuing an office; he has become a living emblem—a mental shorthand for “transparency,” “frugality,” and “data-driven optimism.”
Obi stands resilient, now slightly illuminated by the dawn that is breaking through. He is no longer depicted merely as a politician on a podium, but as the silhouette of a hopeful future. The pressing question for Obi will be why engage in politics without being ready to compromise their values. His answer to such a question is grounded in the wise words of Plato: “One of the penalties for refusing to participate in politics is that you end up being governed by your inferiors.”
Finally, let us hope that in our quest to marginalise Peter Obi, Nigeria does not push him into lamenting for his nation the way French leader Charles de Gaulle lamented for France: “I have tried to lift France out of the mud. But she will return to her errors and vomitings. I cannot prevent the French from being French.” God help us all.