Politics as a case study kum the challenges overing our state

Sunday, August 3, 2025
My one term vow is sacrosanct .Peter Obi replies Gov Soludo after casting aspersions on him
My One-Term, Four-Year Vow Is Sacrosanct





One of the greatest American Presidents, Abraham Lincoln, served only four years, yet his legacy endures as a model of principled leadership. Another iconic figure, John F. Kennedy, did not even complete a full term, yet his vision and ideals continue to inspire generations. In Africa, Nelson Mandela, revered globally as a symbol of justice and reconciliation, chose to serve only one term as President of South Africa, despite immense public pressure to stay longer. His decision was a deliberate act of leadership, a statement that power must serve the people, not the self. Indeed, history shows that the longer many African leaders remain in power, the more likely they are to be corrupted by it. Longevity in office is not a mark of success; rather, it is purposeful, accountable service - however brief - that defines true statesmanship.



It is within this context that I reiterate my vow: I will serve only one term of four years if elected President. And that vow is sacrosanct.



I am fully aware that the decay in our society has made trust one of the scarcest and most sceptically viewed commodities. Many Nigerians, understandably, no longer take politicians at their word. But even in this climate of cynicism, there are still a few whose actions have matched their words - whose integrity is built on verifiable precedent.



Recently, I became aware of two statements aimed, albeit indirectly, at my vow to serve only a single four-year term. One person remarked that even if I swore by a shrine, I still wouldn’t be believed. Another suggested that anyone talking about doing only one term should undergo psychiatric evaluation.



I understand the basis of their scepticism. They are judging me by their own standards - where political promises are made to be broken. But they forget, or perhaps choose to ignore, that Peter Obi is not cut from that cloth. I have a verifiable track record that speaks louder than speculation.



In my political life, my word is my bond. When I entered politics in Anambra State, I made clear and measurable promises to the people: to improve education and healthcare, to open up rural areas through road construction, and to manage public funds with prudence. I fulfilled each of those promises without deviation. I did not swear by a shrine, nor have I been certified mentally unstable as a result of honouring my word.



My vow to serve only one term of four years is a solemn commitment, rooted in my conviction that purposeful, transparent leadership does not require an eternity.



If making such a promise qualifies me for psychiatric evaluation, then we may as well question the mental fitness of those who framed our Constitution, which clearly stipulates a four-year renewable tenure.



I maintain without equivocation: if elected, I will not spend a day longer than four years in office. In fact, I believe that service should be impactful, not eternal.



We must rebuild trust in our country. I have dedicated my public life to demonstrating that leadership with integrity is not a myth. I have done it before, and I do not intend to betray that trust under any circumstances.



Forty-eight months is enough for any leader who is focused and prepared to make a meaningful difference. In that time, I intend not merely to make an impression, but to deliver on concrete promises to:



sanitise our governance system;

tackle insecurity through effective and accountable use of national resources; prioritise education, healthcare, and poverty alleviation;

catalyse small businesses as engines of growth ; and combat corruption with unflinching resolve.



Above all, I will dedicate myself to transforming Nigeria from a consuming nation into a productive one, where agriculture, technology, and manufacturing replace rent-seeking and waste as our national anchors.



These are not utopian dreams. They are realistic, actionable goals that are achievable within four years.



A new Nigeria is POssible.

Politics as a case study kum the challenges overing our state

Sunday, August 3, 2025
My one term vow is sacrosanct .Peter Obi replies Gov Soludo after casting aspersions on him
My One-Term, Four-Year Vow Is Sacrosanct





One of the greatest American Presidents, Abraham Lincoln, served only four years, yet his legacy endures as a model of principled leadership. Another iconic figure, John F. Kennedy, did not even complete a full term, yet his vision and ideals continue to inspire generations. In Africa, Nelson Mandela, revered globally as a symbol of justice and reconciliation, chose to serve only one term as President of South Africa, despite immense public pressure to stay longer. His decision was a deliberate act of leadership, a statement that power must serve the people, not the self. Indeed, history shows that the longer many African leaders remain in power, the more likely they are to be corrupted by it. Longevity in office is not a mark of success; rather, it is purposeful, accountable service - however brief - that defines true statesmanship.



It is within this context that I reiterate my vow: I will serve only one term of four years if elected President. And that vow is sacrosanct.



I am fully aware that the decay in our society has made trust one of the scarcest and most sceptically viewed commodities. Many Nigerians, understandably, no longer take politicians at their word. But even in this climate of cynicism, there are still a few whose actions have matched their words - whose integrity is built on verifiable precedent.



Recently, I became aware of two statements aimed, albeit indirectly, at my vow to serve only a single four-year term. One person remarked that even if I swore by a shrine, I still wouldn’t be believed. Another suggested that anyone talking about doing only one term should undergo psychiatric evaluation.



I understand the basis of their scepticism. They are judging me by their own standards - where political promises are made to be broken. But they forget, or perhaps choose to ignore, that Peter Obi is not cut from that cloth. I have a verifiable track record that speaks louder than speculation.



In my political life, my word is my bond. When I entered politics in Anambra State, I made clear and measurable promises to the people: to improve education and healthcare, to open up rural areas through road construction, and to manage public funds with prudence. I fulfilled each of those promises without deviation. I did not swear by a shrine, nor have I been certified mentally unstable as a result of honouring my word.



My vow to serve only one term of four years is a solemn commitment, rooted in my conviction that purposeful, transparent leadership does not require an eternity.



If making such a promise qualifies me for psychiatric evaluation, then we may as well question the mental fitness of those who framed our Constitution, which clearly stipulates a four-year renewable tenure.



I maintain without equivocation: if elected, I will not spend a day longer than four years in office. In fact, I believe that service should be impactful, not eternal.



We must rebuild trust in our country. I have dedicated my public life to demonstrating that leadership with integrity is not a myth. I have done it before, and I do not intend to betray that trust under any circumstances.



Forty-eight months is enough for any leader who is focused and prepared to make a meaningful difference. In that time, I intend not merely to make an impression, but to deliver on concrete promises to:



sanitise our governance system;

tackle insecurity through effective and accountable use of national resources; prioritise education, healthcare, and poverty alleviation;

catalyse small businesses as engines of growth ; and combat corruption with unflinching resolve.



Above all, I will dedicate myself to transforming Nigeria from a consuming nation into a productive one, where agriculture, technology, and manufacturing replace rent-seeking and waste as our national anchors.



These are not utopian dreams. They are realistic, actionable goals that are achievable within four years.



A new Nigeria is POssible.

Peter Obi Speaks :

My One-Term, Four-Year Vow Is SACROSANCT

One of the greatest American Presidents, Abraham Lincoln, served only four years, yet his legacy endures as a model of principled leadership. Another iconic figure, John F. Kennedy, did not even complete a full term, yet his vision and ideals continue to inspire generations. In Africa, Nelson Mandela, revered globally as a symbol of justice and reconciliation, chose to serve only one term as President of South Africa, despite immense public pressure to stay longer. His decision was a deliberate act of leadership, a statement that power must serve the people, not the self. Indeed, history shows that the longer many African leaders remain in power, the more likely they are to be corrupted by it. Longevity in office is not a mark of success; rather, it is purposeful, accountable service - however brief - that defines true statesmanship.

It is within this context that I reiterate my vow: I will serve only one term of four years if elected President. And that vow is sacrosanct.

I am fully aware that the decay in our society has made trust one of the scarcest and most sceptically viewed commodities. Many Nigerians, understandably, no longer take politicians at their word. But even in this climate of cynicism, there are still a few whose actions have matched their words - whose integrity is built on verifiable precedent.

Recently, I became aware of two statements aimed, albeit indirectly, at my vow to serve only a single four-year term. One person remarked that even if I swore by a shrine, I still wouldn’t be believed. Another suggested that anyone talking about doing only one term should undergo psychiatric evaluation.

I understand the basis of their scepticism. They are judging me by their own standards - where political promises are made to be broken. But they forget, or perhaps choose to ignore, that Peter Obi is not cut from that cloth. I have a verifiable track record that speaks louder than speculation.

In my political life, my word is my bond. When I entered politics in Anambra State, I made clear and measurable promises to the people: to improve education and healthcare, to open up rural areas through road construction, and to manage public funds with prudence. I fulfilled each of those promises without deviation. I did not swear by a shrine, nor have I been certified mentally unstable as a result of honouring my word.

My vow to serve only one term of four years is a solemn commitment, rooted in my conviction that purposeful, transparent leadership does not require an eternity.

If making such a promise qualifies me for psychiatric evaluation, then we may as well question the mental fitness of those who framed our Constitution, which clearly stipulates a four-year renewable tenure.

I maintain without equivocation: if elected, I will not spend a day longer than four years in office. In fact, I believe that service should be impactful, not eternal.

We must rebuild trust in our country. I have dedicated my public life to demonstrating that leadership with integrity is not a myth. I have done it before, and I do not intend to betray that trust under any circumstances.

Forty-eight months is enough for any leader who is focused and prepared to make a meaningful difference. In that time, I intend not merely to make an impression, but to deliver on concrete promises to:

sanitise our governance system;
tackle insecurity through effective and accountable use of national resources; prioritise education, healthcare, and poverty alleviation;
catalyse small businesses as engines of growth ; and combat corruption with unflinching resolve.

Above all, I will dedicate myself to transforming Nigeria from a consuming nation into a productive one, where agriculture, technology, and manufacturing replace rent-seeking and waste as our national anchors.

These are not utopian dreams. They are realistic, actionable goals that are achievable within four years.

A new Nigeria is POssible. -PO

“I was given food at the back door for ten years, not knowing that the girl they called ‘orphan’ would one day own the school.”

My name is Amarachi.

When I was six years old, I lost my parents to a fire. Our landlord said, “Your people are cursed. I can’t keep the daughter of a witch.” So, from Owerri to Port Harcourt, I lived under a bridge. I begged for food.

One morning, I saw a group of students wearing green uniforms entering a school: Royal Kingsway Academy. Their food smelled like glory. So I waited by the back door. A woman—the kitchen cleaner—passed me a nylon bag of jollof rice.

That became my routine. Every lunch hour, Mama Risi would sneak me leftovers—sometimes bones, sometimes breadcrumbs, but always with kindness.

I sat on a rock behind the school wall, listening to lessons through the cracks. I memorized poems and answered math questions aloud. They called me “Radiohead.”

One day, a teacher overheard me recite Shakespeare from the other side of the fence. He asked, “Who is she?” I ran away.

The next day, he brought me books, a notebook, and a pencil. In a low voice, he said to Mama Risi, “Start letting her sit at the back of Classroom 3. No one has to find out.”

So I started attending school unofficially—barefoot and invisible. After class, I swept the classrooms and mopped the hallways with Mama Risi. But I never missed a class. Not even when malaria tried to stop me.

When I was seventeen, the director asked, “Who registered this girl? She’s not on our list.”

Mama Risi lied, “She’s my niece.”

They let me sit for the WAEC exam using their surname. I got eight straight A’s. No celebration. No pictures. Just me, under the handle, holding my result and crying.

Years of silence followed, as I prepared my place in the world.

A few missionaries gave me a scholarship to study business administration in the UK. I graduated with honors. I started a logistics company in Nigeria, then expanded into agriculture and education.

Ten years later, my company bought a property in Port Harcourt.

The address?

Royal Kingsway Academy.

The school was bankrupt—salaries unpaid, buildings in ruins. I said nothing during the negotiation. I just signed the check.

The former principal greeted me at the door with a forced smile.

“Madam CEO, welcome.”

I looked at him and said, “I used to sit behind that wall… with jollof in a nylon bag.”

His smile faded.

We renovated every block, fixed every broken desk, raised teachers’ salaries, and invited the community to the reopening.

When the fabric on the new sign fell, gasps filled the air:

“Amarachi Risi Academy: Where Every Child Has a Seat.”

Mama Risi was by my side, crying like a baby.

I whispered, “They gave me bones. I made them a throne.”

Today, hundreds of students—some orphaned, some abandoned—study for free at our school.

No child eats alone.

No child learns outside a fence.

Because sometimes, the girl who was fed through a hole in the wall…

Comes back to buy the whole building—

and feed generations.