Fubara’s Reconciliation with Wike: A Political Necessity, Not a Surrender

By Nwa'for Oji Awala 

By those who are shouting that Governor Siminalayi Fubara “surrendered” to Nyesom Wike’s “superior firepower,” one must ask: where were you when this political journey began? Where was all this so-called “political resolve” you now demand of Fubara when Wike, standing alone against seasoned political gladiators in Rivers PDP, single-handedly elevated Fubara from the quiet corridors of the state’s civil service to the number one seat in Rivers State?

The truth is simple: Fubara did not climb to power on the back of a mass movement, nor on decades of personal political war stories. His rise was the result of a decisive political calculation by Wike—one that placed him above men who had spent years battling in the trenches of Rivers politics. Without Wike’s political machinery, Fubara’s name would never have made the ballot, let alone the governor’s lodge. So, for those speaking of “standing ground,” it is worth remembering that there would have been no ground for Fubara to stand on without Wike building it first.

The “People’s Cause” Argument Is Misplaced

Critics like Lekan Ojo claim Fubara yielded to Wike instead of holding out for the people of Rivers State. But here is the uncomfortable truth: this battle has never been about “the people” in the way they imagine. The common man in Rivers State did not put Fubara in office in defiance of Wike—they voted in an election managed, directed, and delivered by Wike’s political structure. The so-called fight between them is a dispute between political actors over influence and control, not a revolutionary uprising for the masses.

Where were “the people” when Wike fought through internal resistance to make Fubara governor against the wishes of entrenched political heavyweights? Silent. Where were they when the Rivers political establishment tried to block his emergence? Absent. It was Wike, not the masses, who went to battle for Fubara then.

The “Betrayal” Narrative Holds No Water

Some now cry that Fubara betrayed his deputy governor and supporters by settling with Wike without consulting them. But what have these same supporters done for Fubara since this crisis began? Many who once opposed him during the election suddenly became his loudest advisers in the fight with Wike, urging confrontation. Yet when that fight escalated into a national political storm, even threatening a state of emergency, these “supporters” disappeared into their corners, offering nothing to shield him from the storm’s fury.

What then was Fubara to do? Continue a fight with no certainty of victory, no reliable allies, and a federal government watching closely? Or take the only exit door available—reconciliation with the man who made him governor—before the entire political house collapsed?

The answer is obvious to any serious political mind. Wike still holds the four aces in this game—control of significant political structures in Rivers, influence in Abuja as FCT Minister, and the loyalty of many who matter in the PDP hierarchy. To ignore that reality would be suicidal for Fubara’s career.

Fubara’s “Political Survival” Is Wike’s Creation

Before May 2023, Fubara’s political resume was a blank slate save for his work in the state’s civil service. He was no political juggernaut waiting in the wings—he was an administrative technocrat whose fate changed because Wike decided so. Talking about “Fubara’s political survival” without acknowledging Wike’s role in creating the very path he now walks is like arguing with a masquerade while forgetting that someone else is wearing the mask.

Conclusion: A Strategic Retreat, Not a Defeat

The narrative that Fubara “surrendered” is political romanticism at best and deliberate distortion at worst. In the harsh world of Nigerian politics, sometimes survival demands bending, not breaking; conceding today to fight tomorrow. This peace deal, however lopsided it appears, is not a betrayal—it is a calculated choice in a chessboard where Wike remains the stronger piece.

Ojo and his fellow critics may prefer a political martyr. But Fubara, it seems, has chosen to remain a political player. And in the game of power, that is the only move that matters.

Nwafor Oji Awala 

(c) Prime Heritage Magazine