By Maxwell Ajibola
Walk down the bustling streets of Osogbo, stop by a local market in Gbongan, or sit under a tree with farmers in Ikire, and you will hear people talking about one thing: the August 15 election in Osun State. Everyone wants a better life, and when people gather to gist and say, “If you ask me”, they are simply trying to figure out who can truly change our story for the better.
Politics here is not about big grammar or secret meetings; it is about real people, real hunger, and the genuine desire to see progress in our homes and communities. It is the okada man at Oke-Fia whose child can’t access quality education. It is the teacher in Iwo who has not been getting the fair deal. It is the nursing mother in Ede who is praying her child will not fall sick because hospitals are not only dilapidated and ill-equipped, bills are also too much. When we say “If you ask me”, we are not speaking theory. We are speaking from our pockets, from our kitchens, from the empty classrooms and broken roads we see every day. That is why this election matters so much to us.
When we talk about the current governor, Ademola Adeleke, we must look at things with an open mind and give credit where it is due. Adeleke brought something unique to the table: pure joy, happiness, and free-spirited vibes. In a time when the country is passing through difficult and painful economic reforms, his relaxed and ‘Dadakúàdà’ performance made ordinary people feel loved and recognized.
Somewhere, somehow, people once felt government was far away. Yes, Adeleke contributed to the breaking of the heavy wall that usually separates leaders from common citizens. He would dance at events. He would greet market women directly. He would laugh with artisans. To the market woman tired of daily stress at Aregbe Market, seeing a governor who can dance and laugh with the crowd provides a kind of emotional relief. That style of populist connection has value because it makes people feel happy and carried along. In politics, feeling seen is not small. It matters.
We must be fair. Under this administration, we have also seen attempts at social programmes. There have been disbursements, palliatives, and efforts to put money in the hands of the people. The idea of a “people’s governor” was sold, and to an extent, people felt it. That is why his name still comes up first when people gist. Joy is a currency in politics, and he spent it well.
Yet, as citizens who want lasting development, we must also look at the other side with plain truth. Joy and dancing are wonderful, but they are not enough to build a modern, working state. Osun needs more than good vibes; we need strong factories, steady infrastructure, reliable job creation, and proper economic planning that can stand the test of time.
Let us talk plainly. A sweet song can make you forget your hunger for a moment, but it will not put food on your table tomorrow. A rally can make you laugh on Saturday, but on Monday you still need salary. A dance can make you forget, but it cannot fix the potholes on the Gbongan-Osogbo road or bring light to stay for 24 hours in Ikirun.
What our children need is a future they can touch. They need schools with chairs and books. They need hospitals with drugs and doctors. They need jobs that do not depend on “who you know.” They need industries in Ilesa, in Ijebu-Jesa, in Ilobu, where graduates can work, pay tax, and build a life. We need a system that balances happiness with serious financial growth so our children can have a secure future. That is the plain truth we must face if we are serious.
This brings us to the core of the matter and the reason many people are looking towards Asiwaju Munirudeen Bola Oyebamiji, popularly known as AMBO. When you examine Oyebamiji, you are looking at a man whose background is deeply rooted in discipline, professional banking, and solid administrative competence. He is not a learner or a politician who makes noise without a plan.
His achievements are not by mouth. As a former Commissioner for Finance in Osun State, he was there during some of the toughest economic periods this state has ever seen. When federal allocation was tight, when salary payment was a heavy burden, he was part of the team that kept the books straight. He knows where the leakages are. He knows how government money moves. He knows how to manage resources, block waste, and grow state revenue without bringing unnecessary hardship to the common people.
After service in Osun, he went to the national level and managed complex federal institutions like the National Inland Waterways Authority (NIWA) as Managing Director and CEO. That is not a small job. Managing a federal agency means dealing with budgets, contracts, unions, and national politics. AMBO represents the exact opposite of trial-and-error governance. He is a man who has sat in corporate boardrooms and also sat with grassroots people. He understands both languages.
AMBO speaks the language of numbers, balance sheets, and proper planning. But he also speaks Yoruba. He understands that for a state to move forward, public funds must be protected and channeled into projects that create wealth for everybody, not just for contractors. He carries the true spirit of an Omoluabi – humble, respectful, deeply tied to our local traditions, but armed with modern executive capacity and sharp business intelligence. That combination is rare. You can be bookish and lose touch with the people. You can be too grassroots and not understand policy. But the Omoluabi ideal is balance: strength with humility, wisdom with service. That is what people see in him.
So, if you ask me what Osun State needs as we head towards the upcoming polls, the answer is straightforward. We love joy, and we appreciate leaders who make us smile. Nobody is saying we should become dull. Politics without joy is like soup without salt. But governance is serious business that requires a tested manager.
We need someone who knows how to count the money. We need someone who can sit down, look at a budget, and cut out waste. We need someone who can build lasting roads, not roads that wash away after one rain. We need someone who can attract real investments – not just memorandums of understanding and photo ops, but actual factories that will employ hundreds of people in Osogbo, agro-processing plants in Iwo, and tech hubs in Ile-Ife.
We need someone who can secure our economic future by planning beyond one tenure. What happens after 4 years? After 8 years? Will there be a solid foundation left behind, or will we start again from zero? These are the questions “If you ask me” demands we answer now. Oyebamiji represents that perfect bridge between the grassroots and the boardroom. He is not too far away to understand us, and he is not too local to be swallowed by the system. With AMBO, Osun can keep its vibrant spirit while building a rock-solid foundation where lasting prosperity can finally live.
We can still dance. We can still gist. We can still say “If you ask me” under the tree. But this time, let the dance be backed by data. Let the joy be backed by jobs. Let the vibes be backed by vision. Osun deserves that. Our children deserve that. And, if you ask me, that is the direction we should go.
▪Ajibola lives in Ijebu-Jesa, Osun State.
