Politics and name-calling have always enjoyed a close relationship. And in every democracy, labels are often deployed as political weapons long before policies and performance enter the conversation. Aspirants are routinely defined by their opponents before they are assessed by the electorate. But if democracy is to retain its essence, citizens must resist the temptation to inherit political prejudices without scrutiny. The duty of the voter, the writer, and indeed every stakeholder is not to cheer blindly from partisan corners but to interrogate claims, separate rhetoric from reality, and insist that public office remains a contest of ideas, competence, and character.
It was from this perspective that I encountered a report in which Mr Afolabi Orekoya, the Director of the Media Campaign Organisation of a gubernatorial candidate in Ogun State, reportedly questioned the origin of his boss’ opponent, Senator Solomon Olamilekan Adeola, popularly known as YAYI, during a radio programme in Ilese-Ijebu. The argument, as reported, was that the 2027 governorship of Ogun State should not be entrusted to a “stranger” allegedly unfamiliar with the state’s political and social history.
Everyone is entitled to an opinion. Democracy demands no less. However, some claims deserve closer examination, especially when they seek to shape public perception.
Perhaps the part that struck me most was its implication. As an Ogun State indigene who currently crisscrosses between the United Kingdom and Nigeria, I could not help but ask myself, if I decided to return tomorrow and seek elective office, would I suddenly become a stranger in the land of my birth? Is belonging now measured by one’s current address rather than one’s roots, contributions, and identity? That question lingered in my mind and ultimately inspired this piece. For beyond the politics of the moment lies a deeper conversation about who truly qualifies as an outsider in a place he calls home.
The Cambridge Dictionary defines a stranger as someone you do not know. By that definition, the question becomes straightforward: who exactly does not know YAYI in contemporary Ogun politics? Or is Ago Isaga, Pahayi-Ilaro, no longer a part of Ogun State? Whether one supports him or opposes him, it would be difficult to argue that he is an unfamiliar figure within the state’s public space. His name has become a recurring presence in political conversations, community development discussions, and constituency engagement across various parts of Ogun State.
More importantly, democratic societies have historically benefited from individuals who were initially considered outsiders. Literature and history offer useful reminders.
In George Orwell’s Animal Farm, the tragedy of the animals was not that leadership came from outside the familiar circle; it was that they surrendered critical judgement and allowed propaganda to replace accountability. The lesson remains relevant today. Citizens should neither reject nor embrace a candidate solely because untrue narratives about identity have been circulated so persistently that some people have come to mistake hearsay for evidence and gossip for gospel truth.
The more important question is whether such a candidate possesses the vision, competence, and record necessary for leadership. That is why the debate should move beyond labels and focus on measurable outcomes.
Supporters of Adeola point to an extensive record of constituency interventions and developmental projects. Across Ogun West and beyond, road projects, electrification initiatives, educational infrastructure, healthcare facilities, and community-based interventions have become central features of discussions surrounding his stewardship. Reports indicate that more than 140 road projects have been facilitated across multiple local government areas, helping to improve connectivity and economic activity within several communities.
Similarly, the installation of thousands of streetlights across various parts of Ogun State has improved visibility and enhanced public safety in many locations. Healthcare interventions, including support for primary healthcare centres and critical medical infrastructure, have expanded access to services for many residents. Educational facilities, classroom blocks, libraries, and learning spaces have also featured prominently among projects attributed to his office.
These interventions deserve scrutiny, verification, and objective assessment. That is how democratic accountability works. However, they should not be dismissed simply because they complicate a preferred political narrative.
The more interesting question is why the label of stranger has gained traction in the first place. In politics, visibility often attracts resistance. Public office is one of the few arenas where performance can become a political liability to opponents. When projects are visible, beneficiaries are vocal, and public perception begins to shift, competing interests naturally respond. That response may come through policy debates, ideological disagreements, or, occasionally, through efforts to redefine an opponent’s identity.
Incontrovertibly, development possesses a stubborn quality. Roads are difficult to hide. Hospitals are difficult to explain away. Streetlights illuminate irrespective of political affiliation. Classrooms educate children regardless of who receives electoral credit. Infrastructure often speaks more persuasively than campaign slogans.
This is perhaps why discussions around Senator Solomon Adeola increasingly return to performance. Critics may dispute figures, challenge priorities, or question political ambitions. Such scrutiny is legitimate and necessary. What becomes less persuasive is an argument that relies primarily on geographical labels while paying insufficient attention to developmental outcomes.
Indeed, the history of leadership is filled with examples of individuals who transcended questions of origin through service. Communities rarely remember where a road builder slept as a child. They remember that the road was built.
Patients rarely inquire about the ancestral village of the person who facilitated a healthcare centre. They remember that treatment became available. Development has a way of shrinking distances and dissolving boundaries.
This is particularly significant for Ogun West, a region that has often featured in conversations about uneven development within the state. Many supporters of YAYI argue that one of his major contributions has been drawing renewed attention to the developmental needs of the district while ensuring that projects reach communities that previously felt overlooked. Whether one agrees entirely with that assessment or not, it has become part of the political conversation because of the visibility of interventions on the ground.
As a matter of fact, elections should not be reduced to contests between strangers and familiars. There should be contests between ideas and records. Democracy works best when citizens ask difficult questions of every aspirant, regardless of personal relationships, political loyalties, or regional affiliations. Who has demonstrated capacity? Who has converted access into impact? Who possesses a compelling vision for the future? Who can translate public resources into public good? Those are the questions that matter.
The future of Ogun State will not be determined by who shouts the loudest or labels opponents most creatively. It will be shaped by the collective wisdom of citizens willing to look beyond political branding and assess candidates based on competence, credibility, and contribution.
If a so-called stranger consistently delivers measurable value, perhaps the label deserves reconsideration. And if familiarity becomes an excuse for underperformance, then familiarity itself loses much of its political worth.
The debate, therefore, is not about who is a stranger. It is about who delivers. For the true stranger in any society is not the individual who arrives from elsewhere. It is neglect. It is stagnation. It is the absence of leadership where leadership is most needed. Those are the strangers’ citizens should be most determined to reject.
The conversation does not end here. You can continue it with me on X via @folorunso_adisa, LinkedIn: Folorunso Fatai Adisa, or on Facebook at Folorunso Fatai Adisa
