From a distance, Biodun Oyebanji exudes the aura of a quintessential *Omoluabi*, a man of virtue, humility, and grace. To the casual observer, he could almost pass for a saint. But proximity reveals a different reality: one that evokes the image of a Pharaoh ruling with an iron fist, cloaked in charm but driven by control. In recent weeks, the illusion has begun to unravel. The people of Ekiti, once seemingly entranced, are awakening. Whatever mystical hold he wielded, be it charisma, propaganda, or something more arcane, is losing its potency.
Oyebanji’s reign began with a curious austerity: for over a year, he governed with only eight Special Advisers, a minimalist cabinet that raised eyebrows. When Commissioners were finally appointed in August 2023, many believed the machinery of governance would finally gain traction. Instead, they found themselves relegated to glorified Personal Assistants. Their tenure, short-lived and unceremoniously terminated, exposed the governor’s disdain for collaborative leadership. Most Commissioners rarely saw the governor outside of public events, and many were kept in the dark about the workings of their own ministries, especially concerning contracts.
The epicentre of this opacity lies in the Ministry of Works. Contracts are reportedly awarded without the knowledge of the Commissioner or the Permanent Secretary. Instead, a retired Director serves as the conduit for these transactions, allegedly orchestrated by Oyebanji and his brother, Lekan. The Commissioner for Works, Sola Adebayo, remains in office only by the grace of familial ties to Niyi Adebayo, a political heavyweight.
But the rot runs deeper. Across nearly every sector, contracts are not only awarded in secrecy, they are inflated beyond reasonable limits. The cost of public projects has skyrocketed due to incessant and indiscriminate contract variations, often without justification or technical rationale. These variations, introduced at midstream, serve as a convenient tool for escalating costs and diverting funds. What should be modest infrastructure upgrades balloon into multi-billion naira undertakings, draining the state’s coffers and stalling progress. Roads remain half-completed, schools are left in disrepair, and basic amenities are delayed indefinitely, all while contractors and insiders profit handsomely.
This rampant abuse of contract processes has had a devastating ripple effect. With public funds misallocated and projects stagnating, economic activity in the state has slowed. Job creation is stifled, local businesses suffer, and poverty deepens. The people of Ekiti, once hopeful for a new dawn, now bear the brunt of a government more invested in enrichment than empowerment.
The financial dealings of this administration are equally troubling. Many of the projects used to siphon state funds are not captured in the official budget. Yet, the House of Assembly, widely regarded as a rubber stamp, continues to approve these infractions without scrutiny. In 2024 alone, over ₦200 billion in extra-budgetary spending was retrospectively endorsed in December, raising serious questions about legislative oversight.
Contingency spending in the Governor’s Office and that of the Commissioner for Finance reportedly reached ₦50 billion in last year’s budget, with an additional ₦10 billion approved within days via a supplementary budget. Meanwhile, the budget performance figures posted on the state’s website paint a misleading picture. While the executive claims a 90% performance rate, the legislative arm receives only 1.8% of the total budget, with a paltry 25% execution. The judiciary fared slightly better, with 2.7% allocation and 27% performance. These figures suggest systemic underfunding of the other arms of government, raising the provocative question: should they simply be merged with the executive, given their current impotence?
The Deputy Governor fares no better. Treated with disdain, she reportedly waits for hours to see the governor, her status barely above that of a Special Assistant. Her convoy is described as rickety, her voice muted by fear. The narrative of Oyebanji’s accessibility is a myth; he is only available to a select clique of loyalists and co-beneficiaries.
The House of Assembly, despite its unwavering loyalty, is treated with contempt. Members have rubber-stamped every bill, covered up financial irregularities, and approved loans without public disclosure. Yet, they are rewarded with threats and humiliation. The Speaker has faced multiple impeachment attempts, allegedly for his perceived loyalty to former Governor Kayode Fayemi. The Assembly’s standing orders were violated from the outset, with new members appointed as principal officers over seasoned legislators. On inauguration day, thugs were reportedly stationed at the Assembly complex to suppress any dissent from disgruntled ranking members.
Beyond the corridors of power, whispers abound of favouritism and indulgence. Mistresses of the governor allegedly enjoy privileges surpassing those of Commissioners. One such mistress is said to have received a house off Ilawe Road in Ado Ekiti. The unofficial First Lady, who also serves as Director-General of Communications, is rumoured to be receiving ₦50 million monthly from Local Government accounts, funds that have left Chairmen lamenting their inability to execute basic functions. Local government autonomy under Oyebanji, it seems, is a hollow slogan.
And yet, the betrayal of the local government system runs deeper than mere diversion of funds. Under Oyebanji’s administration, Ekiti State has witnessed a triple increase in budgetary allocations. No Local Government Area receives less than ₦200 million monthly, with cumulative disbursements averaging ₦3.6 billion across the 16 LGAs. This unprecedented inflow should have transformed grassroots governance, empowered communities, and accelerated development. But instead, the funds have vanished into a fog of mismanagement and cronyism.
To compound this, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu has extended generous support to the Oyebanji administration, reportedly exceeding ₦50 billion in federal assistance. This infusion of capital was intended to stabilise the state, invigorate infrastructure, and cushion economic shocks. Yet, the question remains: where is this support fund? What tangible impact has it had on the lives of ordinary Ekiti citizens? Roads remain impassable, schools underfunded, hospitals neglected, and local government offices paralysed. The governor’s allies claim progress, but the streets tell a different story, one of drift, decay, and disillusionment.
Instead of empowering the grassroots, Oyebanji has centralised power and resources, funnelling money into pet projects and patronage networks. Local Government Chairmen are left stranded, unable to execute basic responsibilities, while their allocations are quietly siphoned to fund the lavish lifestyles of unelected favourites. The result is a state drifting dangerously, with no anchor in accountability or transparency.
But perhaps the most politically fatal misstep of Oyebanji’s reign is his abandonment of the party structure. The All Progressives Congress (APC) in Ekiti is deeply fractured, and the governor has alienated the very machinery that brought him to power. His inner circle views the party structure, largely peopled by loyalists of former Governor Fayemi, as a threat that must be dismantled at all costs. In doing so, Oyebanji has forgotten a cardinal truth of politics: there will come a day for primary elections, and he will need those very people to rally behind him.
Today, he stands as an orphan within his own party. No serious APC member in Ekiti holds him in regard, and few are willing to work for his re-election. The result is palpable confusion within his camp. In desperation, Oyebanji has become a permanent resident of Abuja, where he plays the role of Father Christmas, dishing out Ekiti’s resources in a bid to curry favour with national party leaders. Each visit to Abuja is reportedly accompanied by a chartered flight, paid for with state funds, and lavish gifts to party officials. During the recent verification of party membership registers, Oyebanji allegedly gave $5,000 per head to the visiting team, an extravagant gesture that raised eyebrows across the state.
Even more troubling is the governor’s coercive fundraising tactics. Despite the billions already siphoned from public coffers, Oyebanji reportedly forced appointees and civil servants to contribute towards the cost of his party nomination form. These deductions were made directly from their salaries, leaving many aides demoralised and financially strained. The desperation is palpable. In his quest for endorsement, Oyebanji has shut down the State Secretariat and major markets, paralysing economic activity and inflicting monumental losses on traders and civil servants alike, all for orchestrated rallies and photo opportunities.
The discontent is no longer whispered, it is simmering. Many of his appointees have quietly lined up for resignation, waiting for the opportune moment to exit and strike back. Their resolve is clear: they intend to repay him in his own coin. The atmosphere within government circles is tense, with loyalty eroding and resentment growing.
The coming weeks promise to be turbulent. As the veil continues to lift, Ekiti may finally confront the reality of its Pharaoh, not a benevolent ruler, but a man whose grip on power is slipping, one scandal at a time.
*Akindele Mathew* writes from Ado-Ekiti, Ekiti State.
Credit: Akindele Mathew
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