The recent altercation between Nigeria’s Federal Capital Territory (FCT) Minister, Nyesom Wike, and a military officer over a disputed property in Abuja brings to mind the timeless allegory of Baba Wande’s Tí Olúwa Ní Ìlẹ̀, where sacred communal land (Ìlẹ̀ Ọ̀rìṣà) was sold for private gain, and divine justice followed.

According to reports, the contested land, Plot 1946, CZ B13, Gaduwa District, was originally designated for park and recreation use under the Parkway System. The Wike-led FCT Administration stated that the site had no valid right of occupancy or building approval, while other reports indicate that it had previously been allocated to serving and retired military officers before being revoked and reallocated to private individuals, including, the newly appointed INEC Chairman.

However, beyond the legal tussle lies a deeper social and moral question:

Who truly loses when public land becomes private property?

If the reports are accurate, a space meant to serve the public, a park, a place for families, children, and communities has been transformed first into a private enclave for the elite, and now into a battlefield between political and military power blocs.

The real losers are the people, those who will never again enjoy that land as a public good.

This conflict mirrors Tí Olúwa Ní Ìlẹ̀, where a sacred land entrusted to serve the collective was sold for personal enrichment. Today’s Ìlẹ̀ Ọ̀rìṣà is not a shrine; it is a park lost to power, a symbol of how the commonwealth is captured in plain sight.

Even more troubling is the misplaced national priority it exposes.

In a country battling insurgency and insecurity, military officers who should be safeguarding Nigeria’s territorial integrity are now guarding private property.
Their constitutional duty has been distorted, gallant men and women, trained and equipped to defend the nation, are redeployed as private sentinels for the powerful.

This does not excuse the language or conduct of the minister, but the real question remains:

Was that officer truly acting in the line of duty? Was he enlisted and trained to protect private property owned by senior officers or political elites?

Is that what taxpayers are funding, soldiers securing private wealth instead of defending national safety?

These fine officers, and many like them, are being mismanaged, misdirected, and misused, ordered to defend private estates instead of the territorial integrity of the nation.

And yet, the public discourse is missing this critical point.

It is not new, police officers too are routinely assigned to protect individuals rather than communities. Yet this normalization of elite privilege, at the expense of public service, deepens insecurity rather than solving it.

Sadly, the public conversation has missed this core issue. Most debates focus on personalities, not principles; on power play, not public interest.

✅But the truth is simple:

✅When public land becomes private property, the people lose.

✅When the military becomes a tool of private protection, the nation loses.

And when governance loses its moral compass, all of us lose.

The Larger Tragedy: Misplaced Power and Broken Institutions

How did a federal minister become the physical enforcer of alleged encroachment or trespass?

Is the FCT Minister a law enforcement officer? Is it within his constitutional duty to personally lead demolition or recovery operations?

This is yet another reminder of how we have blurred the lines between governance and enforcement, between authority and anarchy. Those who should strengthen institutions now perform the duties of the institutions they have weakened.

We cannot continue to practice executive thuggery in a democracy.

If indeed there was encroachment, the law provides a clear path, the courts.

The same government that tells citizens dissatisfied with election results to “go to court” must not be afraid of its own courts.

Incidents like this reveal something deeper, that many in power do not trust the judicial system they claim to uphold. They invoke it only when it serves their convenience, but abandon it when it demands accountability.

Why resort to public confrontation when due process exists?

Why take the law into one’s own hands while preaching the rule of law to others?

When leaders ignore lawful procedure, they endorse jungle justice from the top.

It is clear: our moral and institutional compass is broken.

We must choose, between the rule of law and the rule of might.

Ọjọ́ kan ń bọ̀, ni Olúwa wí (“A day judgment is coming, says the Lord.”)