In remembrance of Jonathan Ihonde (3)

Without wasting words, let me turn to some of the key points Comrade Dr. Osagie Obayuwana addressed in his memorial lecture for Comrade Jonathan Ihonde. I won’t over-labour what stood out to me and to others in the audience, but I will give proper attention to the ones that deserve deeper reflection.

The lecture struck me—as it still does—as the work of a radical, fearless lawyer-activist whose convictions remain as sharp as ever. He spoke with both compassion and criticism, weaving together philosophical, humanist, and legal arguments that connected powerfully with his listeners. His clarity in explaining even the most complex legal ideas was remarkable.

Obayuwana began with the 1999 Constitution—what he bluntly called a “constitution of decadence”—that falsely opens with the words “We the people.” To him, that phrase is a constant reminder of the dishonesty of its framers, who passed it off as a true people’s document when in reality it is far from it. He compared it to the 1979 Constitution, which also failed the people. Both, in his view, are anti-democratic documents that serve the powerful rather than ordinary Nigerians.

To make his case, he recalled the minority constitution of 1978—crafted by three radical scholars: Professor Segun Osoba, historian Yusufu Bala Usman, and mathematician Dr. Edwin Madunagu. Their draft boldly addressed the real needs of Nigerians, but the conservative majority on the Constitution Drafting Committee sidelined it, reducing it to Chapter Two of the 1979 Constitution. Worse still, they made its provisions “non-justiciable”—meaning no citizen can demand in court that they be implemented.

Had Osoba, Bala Usman, and Madunagu prevailed, every day since 1979 might have been a better day for Nigerians. Their proposals guaranteed essentials like education, healthcare, housing, employment, food security, decent transport, and old-age benefits for everyone—including retired farmers, traders, artisans, and professionals. But the conservatives locked these rights away in a chapter that can’t be enforced, turning them into empty promises.

Obayuwana argued that the 1999 Constitution must be rewritten to make these rights enforceable, with real input from professional bodies, unions, and civil society groups so that the result is a true people’s constitution.

He also addressed a recent controversy: the Tinubu government’s hostility toward Professor Pat Utomi for creating a “shadow government.” Obayuwana made it clear that Utomi was simply exercising his democratic right to offer alternative ideas—something healthy for any democracy. Yet the government reportedly considered charging him with treasonable felony. For Obayuwana, this was a worrying sign of intolerance and creeping authoritarianism.

And then came the sting: Is President Tinubu really a democrat? Obayuwana’s answer was drawn from experience. Back in the Abacha years, Tinubu would quietly attend pro-democracy meetings at Dr. Beko Ransome-Kuti’s home, sitting silently at the back. But when the time came to face real danger, Tinubu fled into exile. He was present—but not truly part of the struggle.

Today, Obayuwana sees the same pattern: inconsistency, ambiguity, and a tendency toward dictatorship rather than democratic deepening. In his words, Tinubu is a political chameleon.

It was a lecture Comrade Jonathan Ihonde—steadfast to the end—would have deeply appreciated. Where he now rests, still and dignified, one can imagine him nodding in agreement.