By Mohammed Abiodun
Two friends are at loggerheads. In fact, I am wrong. One friend is at loggerheads with the other. They are, in fact, no longer friends, as one of them has resoundingly declared.
In his interview with Arise TV, Mallam Nasir El-Rufai, immediate past Governor of Kaduna State and former Minister of the FCT—whom I must credit for shaping Abuja into what it is today—accused his erstwhile friend of orchestrating his failed ministerial nomination and current persecution by the Kaduna State government.
That was Mallam El-Rufai’s first media appearance since leaving office, and it was compelling given the controversies surrounding him at both the federal and state levels. Expectedly, it was bound to come with loaded fireworks. Millions of politically charged Nigerians were eager to watch. I was at the lobby of the Nnamdi Azikiwe Airport, waiting on a delayed flight. I pulled out my iPad and streamed the interview. Like many others, I did not want to miss the blockbuster.
Until that interview, all that was known about the issues surrounding Mallam El-Rufai were rumors, conjectures, and cryptic tweets from the Kaduna technocrat. Over the months leading up to that moment, he had built a case worth listening to. And we did.
In his interview, he laid it all bare—there was anger, hurt, bitterness, and vengefulness in his tone. But understandably so. He accused the one he once called a friend, Mallam Nuhu Ribadu, of being the linchpin of his predicament. His words were exact and unreserved: “This project of destroying Nasir El-Rufai is Nuhu Ribadu’s conception. He is the architect and builder of that project. He is the one working with Uba Sani to implement it. So far, it has been frustrating for them.”
The former governor went further: “Somebody wants to destroy my reputation. Why? Nuhu Ribadu wants to be president in 2031. He has to eliminate every northerner that he thinks is on the radar.”
This projectile fired at the National Security Adviser was no joke. The accusations were hefty. Every commentator in the public space expected a spat. They got none.
Mallam Nuhu Ribadu, in his characteristic calm, focus, and equanimity, delivered a response that has aged well. He simply stated that he would not join issues with Mallam Nasir El-Rufai, emphasizing that he was too preoccupied with his national assignment to engage in media fights.
This response is a classic lesson in issue management as a public servant. As Winston Churchill once said: “You will never reach your destination if you stop and throw stones at every dog that barks.”
By his response, Mallam Nuhu Ribadu made it clear that he has a task to deliver—a path and a destination—and does not intend to be deterred by those barking at him.
It is often the case that many government appointees get distracted by external noise to the point that they lose focus on their primary assignment. If an official responds to every media projectile thrown at them, they will neither have the time nor the mental bandwidth to fulfill their duties. The back-and-forth would cost them valuable time—time that could be spent treating over 200 files and addressing pressing national concerns.
There is a good dose of wisdom to take from Mallam Nuhu Ribadu’s measured response to Mallam Nasir El-Rufai. It is the wisdom of restraint and cultivated silence.
“If my silence wouldn’t risk being construed as consent, I would have ignored him. I am too preoccupied with my current assignment to get into a media fight with Nasir El-Rufai or anyone else. Despite the incessant baiting and attacks, I have never spoken ill of Nasir on record anywhere. This is out of respect for our past association and our respective families. I will not start today. I, however, urge the public to disregard El-Rufai’s statements against me.”
One of the most striking things about this response was its tone. Despite the weighty allegations against him, Mallam Ribadu maintained a tone of respect and dignity toward his former friend. He did not go “gbas gbos”, as Gen-Zs would describe it.
In a world of caustic politics and active vengeance, many would have expected a harsher response from Mallam Ribadu. Instead, he proved that with age comes wisdom—the wisdom to know when to speak, when to be silent, and when to honor friendships and family ties.
As National Security Adviser, Mallam Nuhu Ribadu occupies one of the most sensitive offices in the country. He is, in many ways, the President’s closest adviser on national stability and security. He coordinates the government. His job is to ensure law and order, and by refusing to be dragged into an open political brawl, he demonstrated a deep understanding of the weight of his office. He knows better than to step into the pigsty.
This, in turn, proves that he has the right temperament for the role. A rambunctious, reactionary, short-fused individual—like a pressure cooker ready to explode at the slightest provocation—cannot effectively handle the responsibilities of the National Security Adviser. It takes someone who understands the importance of time, order, and the sanctity of their office to thrive in such a role. For a position that demands the management of the worst crises with clarity and composure, Mallam Ribadu has shown both critics and admirers alike that he is indeed the right man for the job.
Unsurprisingly, since Mallam Ribadu’s six-paragraph response, there has been a conspicuous silence from those who had called for war. The attention they craved was denied, and the noise has since withered away. The lesson here is simple: know when to speak, when to be silent, and when to speak silently.
Mohammed Abiodun is a historian, and he writes from the F.C.T
