After the ballots: Blood in Irewole as politics turns to thuggery — by Kazeem Tiamiyu

IKIRE, Irewole LGA — The banners have come down. The campaign vans are parked. The election is over.
But in Irewole Local Government Area of Osun State, with Ikire town as its headquarters, the war is not.

Three days after results were announced, the smell of burnt tires and the silence of closed shops still hang over parts of Ikire and Apomu. In between are fresh graves. Young men who were seen days ago sharing posters and handing out cash are now being buried — casualties of a politics that traded ideas for intimidation.

From Campaign Grounds to Battlegrounds

For years, residents say, politicians in Irewole have relied on a familiar playbook: hire, arm, and deploy young men during elections. They are called “boys,” “taskforce,” or simply “the boys.” Their job is to guard rallies, chase opponents from polling units, and “secure the vote.”

This time, the boys did not go home.

“After election, nobody called them again. But they still had guns, anger, and grievances,” said a community leader in Ikire town who asked not to be named for safety. “So they started settling scores.”

Local sources confirm at least 4 people were killed in clashes between rival political groups across Irewole LGA between August 21 and August 23. The violence was mostly reported in Ikire, the LGA headquarters, and Apomu. Shops were looted. Houses were set ablaze. Motorcycles were seized.

The Osun State Police Command has confirmed it is investigating “incidents of violence and loss of lives” in Irewole LGA, but declined to give casualty figures, citing ongoing investigations.

Why Thuggery Persists in Irewole

Political thuggery in Osun is not new. But experts say the problem is worsening because it pays.

“Politicians use thugs because it’s cheaper than policy,” explains Dr. Tunde Akinola, a political scientist at Obafemi Awolowo University. “During campaigns, a young man with no job is given 10,000 naira, a T-shirt, and a sense of importance. After election, that structure is abandoned. What do you expect him to do with the weapon and the training?”

In Ikire and other towns in Irewole, unemployment among youths is high. Farming and trading, the main occupations, have been hit by rising costs. For many young men, being attached to a politician is the only form of employment.

“They were promised contracts, jobs, and recognition,” said Aisha, a trader in Apomu market whose shop was vandalized. “Now that the election is gone, the promises are gone too. So they are fighting over who is owed.”

Leaders Speak Out

The violence has drawn condemnation across party lines.

Kunle Rasheed Adegoke, SAN, APC Candidate for Osun Central Senatorial District, said in a statement Monday: “No political contest is worth the life of any Osun resident. Politics should be about ideas, service and development, not violence, intimidation and vengeance.”

He urged security agencies to act “swiftly, professionally and impartially” and called on youths not to allow themselves to be used as “instruments of political violence.”

The Irewole Council of Elders, which sits in Ikire town, met on Sunday and issued a communique asking political leaders to “disarm their boys” and submit them for rehabilitation.

The Human Cost

Behind the statistics are families. In one compound in Ikire, a mother was mourning her 22-year-old son who was shot on his way home from work. He was not a politician. He was just in the wrong place.

“We used to vote and go home peacefully in Ikire,” said Baba Wasiu, 68, a retired teacher. “Now election means fear. Our children are dying for people who will not even answer their calls after they win.”

What Next for Irewole?

With the election over, the real work begins — and the clock is ticking.

Security analysts warn that if the young men involved in the violence are not engaged, disarmed, and given alternatives, Ikire and other communities in Irewole LGA could see more reprisals in the coming weeks.

The demands are simple and urgent: increased police visibility in Ikire town, prosecution of those who ordered and carried out the attacks, and a jobs and skills program to pull youths away from political mercenary work.

As one market woman in Ikire put it: “We don’t need more press statements. We need peace. We need our children back.”

Osun belongs to all of us. The bleeding in Irewole, and in Ikire, must stop.