A Rejoinder to Sam Onwuemeodo’s “Ohakim: 2007, 2011, 2027…”
There is a subtle danger in political writing cloaked in nostalgia. While Sam Onwuemeodo’s recent article appears to offer warmth and familiarity with former Governor Ikedi Godson Ohakim, its core argument stands on a precarious distortion of facts. To suggest that Dr. Ohakim’s 2007 emergence was a “try-your-luck” adventure, divorced from his track record, intellectual grounding, and political structure is not just inaccurate, it’s dismissive of both history and the people of Imo State who elected him.
The Man Before the Miracle
Before 2007, Dr. Ikedi Ohakim was far from a political novice. He was a seasoned technocrat, a respected businessman, and a public administrator with both state and national experience. As Commissioner for Commerce, Industry and Tourism in Imo State (1992–1993) under the administration of Evan Enwerem, Ohakim brought reform-minded energy to governance long before contesting any election.
He went on to spend over 15 years in the private sector, where he rose to become MD/CEO of Alucon and later founded the Mekahog Group of Companies. His entrepreneurial drive extended into consultancy, as co-founder of Mekahog Consulting, he partnered with international firms on infrastructure development and public sector reform programs across Nigeria. He also served at board-level in the energy and finance sectors, including with the now-defunct First Atlantic Bank.
Ohakim’s expertise earned him a place on national industrial development bodies such as the National Council on Industrial Development (NCID), whose work contributed to the eventual creation of SMEDAN in 1999; a key institution supporting small and medium enterprises in Nigeria today.
These were not the credentials of a political lightweight. They were the resume of a man prepared by both experience and intellect, for the demands of executive leadership.
But more than positions and titles, Ohakim had earned public trust. His 2007 candidacy under the Progressive Peoples Alliance (PPA) was the culmination of widespread disillusionment with establishment politics, and the hunger for a new kind of leadership. He connected with the grassroots not by accident, but by intention.
The so-called “lack of structure” Sam refers to was, in truth, an insurgent political movement powered by ordinary citizens, disaffected youth, and sidelined stakeholders. The elite saw luck; the masses saw hope and voted accordingly.
2007 Was Not a Lottery Win. It Was a Verdict.
Ohakim’s margin of victory in the 2007 gubernatorial election, over 440,000 votes (749,800 vs. 309,273) is not something a candidate “stumbles” into. It was a clear verdict on his message, merit, and momentum.
Yes, providence plays a role in history. But so do preparation, persuasion, and political clarity. Ohakim’s victory was not about divine randomness; it was the result of a candidate who campaigned differently, who inspired confidence across LGA after LGA, and who promised what others had failed to deliver: policy-driven, inclusive, and forward-looking governance.
The 2011 Election: More Than Just Votes
Sam Onwuemeodo’s narrative glosses over the complex forces that shaped the 2011 electoral cycle. He mentions internal sabotage, party defections, and spiritual rebuke but sidesteps the most critical factor: federal interference.
On this point, even one of Ohakim’s fiercest critics, Nze James Chinonyerem, inadvertently exposed the truth when he said:
“Ask those who participated in that election as agents of PDP. They will tell how mercilessly they were muzzled by the federal security agencies.”
That is not political speculation, it is confirmation. The 2011 election was marred by coercion, harassment of PDP polling agents, disruption of logistics, and the weaponisation of federal institutions to tip the balance. Many credible observers noted that the election deviated sharply from democratic norms, and yet Ohakim still secured over 290,000 votes in spite of it all.
What happened in 2011 was not a mere “loss.” It was an electoral ambush, disguised as a democratic outcome. That distinction matters, because the true measure of a leader includes how he faces setbacks manufactured beyond his control.
Let’s Stop the Myth of “Entitlement Politics”
Another dangerous myth Sam flirts with is the idea that Ohakim’s camp believes he is “owed” a return. That’s false.
There is no demand for apologies. There is a demand for truth, and for a political environment where history is told with integrity. The frustration is not with Owerri Zone or the Catholic Church, as Sam implies, but with the constant revision of events to make political arguments stick.
One cannot talk about 2011 without recalling how misinformation and moral panic were weaponised. Even Rev. Fr. Ejike Mbaka whose critical sermons contributed to the tension later publicly apologised in 2014, admitting that Ohakim had been misunderstood. That single act of contrition is more telling than any political spin.
To compare Ohakim’s second-term bid with Mbakwe’s or Jonathan’s one-term exits is simplistic. Neither man was rejected by the electorate, their exits were shaped by broader national convulsions. If either had returned, they would have found supporters. Why then should Ohakim, whose governance remains one of the most policy-driven in the state’s recent history, be denied the space to run again, especially when the state teeters on the edge of loosing critical progress made under the current administration of Hope Uzodinma?
Contest of 2027 is of Urgency, Not Sentiment
Dr. Ikedi Ohakim quest for a return is not a project of nostalgia; it is a mission anchored in personal commitment to good governance in Imo and a deep understanding of what is at stake.
The 2027 election is not just about who comes next, it is about ability; who can consolidate the gains already made and prevent a relapse into instability. Governor Hope Uzodinma has laid down good foundations in infrastructure, security coordination, and regional diplomacy. What Imo needs now is not disruption, but stewardship, someone who can secure those gains, deepen reforms, and offer the kind of calm, experienced leadership that volatile times demand.
Ohakim is not coming back to relive old glories. He is offering himself because the stakes are higher, the mood is darker, and the people are yearning, not for a saviour, but for a sober helmsman who knows how to navigate both storm and calm.
He is not looking for applause. He is extending his hand to friend, former foe, and forgotten ally alike, in the hope that Imo will choose a path of continuity anchored in wisdom, rather than gamble on untested sentiment.
History Matters
History is a stubborn thing. It may be manipulated briefly, but it always returns to the truth.
Dr. Ikedi Ohakim’s 2007 victory was not an accident. His 2011 loss was not a clean electoral defeat. And his 2027 aspiration is not a grievance tour, it is a vision anchored in maturity, inclusion, and urgency.
Sam Onwuemeodo’s article is well-written. But its conclusions are off-mark. The people of Imo deserve more than recycled fables and spiritual finger-pointing. They deserve a conversation rooted in fact, not folklore.
And they deserve the right to choose this time, without interference.
