Simi Fubara as a prodigal son, by Azuh Arinze
As Nigerians await the return of Sir Siminalayi Fubara (suspended on March 18, 2025, by President Bola Ahmed Tinubu), on or before September 18, 2025, permit me to share this with you: there’s a parable in the Bible that resonates powerfully with the simmering political drama in Rivers State—the popular story of the prodigal son. It’s a tale of youthful exuberance, rebellion, and ultimately, remorse. Yes, Governor Siminalayi Fubara may not have returned yet, but the metaphor is very apt.
When Fubara was thrust into power on May 29, 2023, it wasn’t on the wings of his own political clout or deep pockets. He was, by all accounts, a beneficiary of the structure and machinery of his predecessor and political benefactor, Eze Nyesom Wike, now Minister of the Federal Capital Territory. As the erstwhile Accountant-General of the state, Fubara was known more for his alleged loyalty than for any public charisma or political ideology. Wike, the reigning bulldozer of Rivers politics, handpicked him and ultimately paved the way for his emergence as governor.
But power has a curious way of changing people—including Wike, who now behaves like the lord of the manor, blasting his benefactors and opponents, sometimes in the house of God.
Back to Fubara. Shortly after settling into office, he began to chafe against the strings of control. What started as whispers of rebellion soon grew into open defiance. The godfather-godson arrangement crumbled, and what Nigerians watched for months became a power struggle—raw, ruthless, and unfiltered—until that presidential intervention.
To some, Fubara remains the hero for finally standing up to a political overlord. To others, he’s the ungrateful son who bit the hand that fed him. Regardless of where you stand, one thing is clear: Fubara’s political path mirrors that of the prodigal son—consumed by a desire to chart his own course, he embarked on a dangerous journey until he succumbed to Wike’s superior firepower.
The parable, of course, doesn’t end with rebellion. The prodigal son, broke and broken—politically, that is—eventually returned or begged, as was alleged, not because he wanted to, but because he realized the cost of pride, poor decisions, and political immaturity.
The political tension, while it lasted, affected state functions. Legislative processes were in chaos. Public buildings were torched. Threats of economic sabotage were made. And Rivers people, expectedly, were caught in the crossfire.
To be fair, the governor is not the only prodigal in this tale. Nigerian politics is replete with actors who forget yesterday’s handshakes at the sight of today’s throne. For Fubara, however, the stakes were higher because his battle was not just with Wike—but also with the system that brought him forth.
In the parable, the prodigal son was welcomed back with open arms and forgiven wholeheartedly by a father who valued restoration over retribution. But in Rivers politics, and with the peace of the graveyard that currently exists, that may not be guaranteed. Realpolitik may rear its head again—and as always, it’s going to be cold, calculating, and often unforgiving and unpredictable.
Well, Fubara still has time. Time to rise above pettiness and make superb use of this “second chance.” Time to remember that leadership is a trust, not a trophy. Time to govern with grace, not grudge. And time, perhaps, to return—not necessarily to Wike, but to the ideals of loyalty, humility, and public service, for which he was elected. Because when the dust settles, history won’t just ask who won the war. It will ask: who put the people first?
Finally, to Wike: let Fubara breathe!
—Arinze is the publisher/editor-in-chief of YES INTERNATIONAL! magazine and author of books including The CEO’s Bible 1 & 2, Success Is Not Served A La Carte, Anything and Everything Journalism, My Story of Many Colours, Conversations with Showbiz Stars, A Taste of Success, and Encounters: Lessons from My Journalism Career.
