Lanre Adewole/
Last week, a brother I hold in high esteem, though increasingly colonised by politics, found time in his ever-busy schedule to regale me with an overflow of family history about the man who may well become Lagos State’s next governor: Dr. Kadiri Obafemi Hamzat, now stylishly branded with the sobriquet “KOH.”
My brother has known the Hamzat family at an intimate level for decades, including the late patriarch, Oba Mufutau Olatunji Hamzat. He recalled, in granular detail, the family’s movements, where the deputy governor’s father built his first house, their relocation to a second home, and the patriarch’s political journey across Lagos. He spoke of the sons: their political forays, the one lost to death, the one described as a maverick, “rough around the edges,” in his words, and the trailblazer who first travelled abroad, opening doors for others.
It was an absorbing narrative session. My brother could easily serve as a ghostwriter for the family, should they ever require one.
Some parts lingered.
Though not entirely enamoured of the Hamzat clan, the “unauthorised biographer” repeatedly described them as a “family of service.” He argued that their ancestral migration, and their decision to maintain ties to multiple roots, may explain the lingering controversy about their seeming belonging “everywhere.”
Then came an interesting aside: the deputy governor’s father reportedly attended the Nigerian Institute of Journalism later in life to obtain a certificate in journalism. That would, in a manner of speaking, make Kabiyesi one of us, a senior colleague, even if posthumously, though there is no firm evidence he ever practised in the field.
But then again, professional qualification does not always translate into practice. Not every trained lawyer becomes a courtroom advocate. Many politicians, particularly in the United States, studied law not for litigation but as a pathway into public service. Nigeria is no different.
Take Nyesom Wike, the combative FCT Minister. His elevation to Life Bencher sparked fierce criticism from senior legal practitioners who have spent decades in active practice without such recognition. Among the loudest critics was Femi Falana, SAN, who famously described Wike as Nigeria’s only Life Bencher without a verifiable courtroom record.
It was a stinging rebuke, and not without merit.
The Body of Benchers is meant to comprise individuals with distinguished jurisprudential contributions, high ethical standards, and a demonstrable commitment to mentoring the next generation. Granting such honour without those credentials risks diluting its sanctity.
My brother, himself a respected banker, shared that Kabiyesi also had a background in banking. Perhaps, someday, I will verify some of these accounts directly with the deputy governor, who now stands within touching distance of succeeding his principal, Babajide Sanwo-Olu.
He insists that Obafemi Hamzat was destined for greatness even before his academic sojourn in the United States. He also hinted at another sibling quietly being groomed for high office. Still, destiny has its own script.
There is an irony in Hamzat’s political trajectory.
In 2019, Sanwo-Olu, whose emergence many described as “miraculous”, publicly admitted that, just four years earlier, he had aspired to serve as Hamzat’s Chief of Staff. At the time, Hamzat, then Commissioner for Works under Babatunde Fashola, had challenged the establishment’s preferred candidate, Akinwunmi Ambode, for the APC governorship ticket.
For that audacity, he was branded disloyal, indisciplined, even arrogant. Yet, he finished a strong second, burnishing his political credentials in the process.
Fate, however, had other plans.
Sanwo-Olu would later become governor, effectively presiding over the man he once hoped to serve, while Ambode, displaced, now hovers at the edges of a possible return. Musical chairs? Or a revolving door of power?
More recently, in a viral endorsement video, Lagos Assembly Speaker Mudashiru Obasa declared that, following consultations in Abuja, presumably with the President, nothing had changed regarding Hamzat’s approval for the top job by the same “voice” that sidelined him over a decade ago.
That endorsement is significant, particularly given Obasa’s own governorship ambitions, which nearly cost him his current position before a political lifeline restored his standing.
Meanwhile, the powerful Governance Advisory Council (GAC), led by nonagenarian Tajudeen Olusi, has all but canonised Hamzat as the “incoming governor,” unsettling other aspirants in the process.
For all intents and purposes, the KOH moment appears to have arrived.
Still, it would be reckless to take the general election for granted. While the APC ticket may already be tucked safely in his pocket, a contest with Ambode, should he choose defiance over party orthodoxy, would represent a dramatic reversal of roles. Twelve years ago, Ambode was the establishment favourite and Hamzat the rebel. Today, the script could flip entirely.
Politics, like life, thrives on irony.
The 2023 elections in Lagos offered a sobering lesson. After losing the presidential vote in its stronghold to the Labour Party, the APC saw Governor Sanwo-Olu reduced to retail politics, literally on the streets, appealing to market women and artisans. One striking image captured him under the blistering sun, engaging young women in a makeshift roadside salon beneath a bridge, an unvarnished metaphor for a government under pressure.
Despite the optics, and the pleas, the victory that followed was widely contested.
Voters, increasingly assertive, may prove even more demanding this time.
Hamzat’s path, though seemingly clear, is fraught with contradictions. His party faces growing national disaffection, while the Lagos political establishment backing him is viewed with suspicion in certain quarters.
He cannot afford to create distance between himself and the ultimate godfather, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, yet he must also carve out an independent identity that resonates with a restless electorate.
He must speak to the anxieties of Lagosians.
He must offer a vision that feels authentic.
He must inspire hope, because, for many residents, there is little left to “renew.”
To his credit, Hamzat enters the race with assets: a recognised name, a reputation for humility, and a calm, measured public persona. These are not signs of weakness; indeed, his tenure under Fashola demonstrated that he can act decisively when required.
His restraint may yet prove to be his strength.
If he ultimately secures the mandate, his greatest challenge will be to govern so effectively that questions about origin, identity, or lineage become irrelevant.
At that point, the cliché will write itself: God’s time is the best.
As the Good Book reminds us in Ecclesiastes 3:11: “He has made everything beautiful in its time.”
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