By Stephen Adewale

This rejoinder is a response to a column that graced the pages of the Nigerian Tribune on March 16, 2025, titled “Nasir El-Rufai and the Philosophy of Nothing.” The piece was penned by Festus Adedayo, one of my cherished wordsmiths, a maestro of prose whose pen drips with both wit and wisdom.

Adedayo has long held a prime spot in my literary affections for reasons beyond mere admiration. First, we both hail from the illustrious Akure Oloyemekun, a shared heritage that makes his brilliance a source of personal pride. There is something uniquely gratifying about watching a kinsman wield the pen with such devastating elegance, weaving words as effortlessly as a bard conjuring magic. Second, in an era where original thinkers are as scarce as rain in the heart of harmattan, Adedayo stands tall as a relic of intellectual abundance. His columns have, for years, been my weekly ritual, a delectable dish of analysis served with just the right amount of audacity.

Regrettably, the unrelenting demands of academia had deprived me of Adedayo’s literary ambrosia for the past three weeks. Resolute in my quest for redemption, I consecrated my Sunday morning to devouring Adedayo’s recent columns, much like a parched wanderer stumbling upon an oasis of wisdom. And then, lo and behold, the last paragraph of the aforementioned column stopped me in my tracks. It was not just a paragraph; it was a provocation that demanded and commanded a response. And so, here I am, pen in hand, ready to engage.

In the preceding paragraphs, Adedayo took great pains to dissect El-Rufai’s defection to the SDP, wielding the philosophy of nothingness like a sculptor chiseling away at what he believed to be a futile political move. He argued that El-Rufai’s new political adventure would amount to precisely nothing. Fair enough. He is entitled to his opinions, and I bear him no grudge for his gloomy prophecy. After all, time is the ultimate arbiter of political fortunes.

However, just when one thought the column was a masterclass in political critique, Adedayo took an unfortunate detour in the final paragraph, offering a dismissive appraisal of SDP’s 2023 Presidential Candidate, Adewole Adebayo. Quoting him, he said: “My excitement at the potentials of SDP as a viable opposition suffered a momentary halt almost immediately that same last week. Adewole Adebayo, 2023 presidential candidate…had come on an interview session on a national television. I had heard of his trumped-up brilliance from journalists who earlier interviewed him.”

To begin with, Adedayo’s statement raises questions. How is it possible that he had never encountered Adewole Adebayo’s interviews on national television before the week in question?

Adebayo has been a presence in the public space since January 2022, when he declared his presidential ambition. He has graced national television numerous times, dissecting policies with the precision of a seasoned statesman, not merely critiquing but offering well-reasoned alternatives. His interviews have been clipped, shared, and dissected across social media. It is difficult to accept that an astute columnist like Adedayo only stumbled upon Adebayo’s rhetoric through second-hand accounts.

Then he went on to claim that “at that interview session, gradually, Adebayo defrosted all those superlatives with which he was robed. By the time the interview session ended, in place of a huge turkey with huge feathers I expected to encounter, I was left with a species of hen Yoruba call ‘Adiye opipi’.”

One would assume that a seasoned columnist of his caliber would back his critique with substance. At least a direct quote or a reference to the supposedly underwhelming statement that shattered his lofty expectations of Adewole Adebayo would suffice. Yet, there is no such reference in his analysis.

Since he conveniently avoids mentioning the specific interview that triggered his so-called disappointment, and given that Adebayo only appeared on Arise TV’s breakfast show during the week in question, it is clear that Adedayo was referring to that particular session. However, rather than provide any real context, he chose to shroud the event in ambiguity. Since he won’t do the honours, it is only right to offer a brief, unvarnished account of what truly transpired during the interview he described.

A few days before the said interview, Ayo of Arise TV made claims that Adewole Adebayo had betrayed his supporters before the 2023 elections, endorsing President Tinubu and urging his followers to do the same. She went further, labelling him a politician devoid of principle.

When Adebayo finally appeared on Arise TV, he firmly set the record straight. He ran the race to the very end, never endorsed Tinubu, and never worked for the APC government. He rightfully demanded an apology, but Ayo stood her ground. However, when the Arise TV crew presented what they called “evidence,” it backfired, proving Adebayo right and exposing the flaws in their reporting.

So, this was the interview that left Festus Adedayo “disappointed” in Adebayo—an interview where a man stood his ground against inaccurate claims. When a critique fails to engage with the substance of an argument, it raises questions about its purpose.

Rather than provide a balanced assessment, Adedayo’s piece appears to dismiss the SDP as an unworthy alternative, and in doing so, he offers a limited perspective on the party’s political journey.

Criticism, when wielded with sincerity, serves as a scalpel—precise, constructive, and capable of refining its subject. But when used recklessly, it risks distorting reality. At a time when Nigeria teeters on the edge of existential crises, what we need are columnists who illuminate the path forward. We need voices that challenge, correct, and inspire, not those that merely recycle dismissive rhetoric.

I have always admired Festus Adedayo, but his portrayal of Adewole Adebayo in this instance is a reminder that even the most respected commentators can, on occasion, misread the moment. The role of journalism is to interrogate and enlighten, and as consumers of opinion pieces, we must remain vigilant in distinguishing between critique and misrepresentation.

Stephen Adewale writes from the Department of History, Obafemi Awolowo University.