By; Onovo, Amos Okwudili, Ph.D.
In every political season, history quietly asks a familiar question: Does power descend to serve the people, or does it ascend to sit above them? In Enugu today, that question echoes louder than official slogans and choreographed public appearances. There is a growing perception of governance conducted from a height—where access is filtered by titles, credentials, and proximity to technocratic privilege.
In such an arrangement, the governed are subtly divided: on one side, politicians and technocrats who speak the language of policy rooms and glass offices; on the other, the ordinary people whose lives are reduced to statistics and pilot projects. It is governance by classification, what Jean-Jacques Rousseau warned against when he argued that once leaders cease to reflect the general will, inequality becomes institutionalised, not accidental.
An African proverb says, “ _The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.”_ When leadership relates more comfortably with systems than with souls, resentment quietly replaces hope. This is not cyber accusation; it is political logic.
Hannah Arendt reminds us that power loses legitimacy when it is no longer rooted in collective consent but sustained by distance and procedure. Governance that listens upward but not downward gradually forgets the human face of authority.
Against this background stands a contrasting philosophy of leadership, one grounded not in class, but in conscience.
*Chief Uche Geoffrey Nnaji* represents a different political grammar: one that speaks fluently with the poor, the forgotten, and the daily strugglers of Enugu. His politics is not announced only in conference halls but read in lived interventions, quiet assistance to the needy, consistent support for those without voices, and an open-door disposition that recognises dignity before status.
John Stuart Mill argued that the measure of good governance lies in how it enhances the well-being of the greatest number. By this standard, *leadership is not validated by how many technocrats it surrounds itself with, but by how many ordinary lives it uplifts.* *Chief Uche Nnaji’s* public life reflects this utilitarian wisdom: his engagement with people is not mediated by class but motivated by empathy. He understands that hunger does not wait for policy frameworks, and poverty does not queue for feasibility studies.
Niccolò Machiavelli, often misunderstood, was clear on one point: rulers who alienate the people ultimately weaken themselves. A leader feared by the masses but admired by elites stands on fragile ground. Conversely, a leader loved by the people builds a fortress no opposition can easily breach. This is why the streets speak differently when Uche Nnaji’s name is mentioned, there is familiarity, not fear; expectation, not suspicion.
Frantz Fanon warned that post-colonial leadership often reproduces elite separation under new names. When governance becomes a performance for the educated few, the masses are reduced to spectators in their own destiny. The wisdom of the times demands a leader who breaks this cycle, one who does not merely govern for the people but walks with them.
Another proverb teaches us: “ _He who wants to rule the people must first learn to kneel where they kneel.”_ That posture defines the difference between *classist authority and people-centred leadership* . One builds monuments; the other builds trust. One manages images; the other manages hope.
As 2027 approaches, political symbols are already rearranging themselves. *The Lion Building, long regarded as the seat of ultimate authority, will not be claimed by algorithms or elitist blueprints alone.* It will answer to the pulse of the masses.
History shows that when the people finally decide, no amount of technocratic insulation can withstand their verdict.
Enugu stands at a crossroads: between governance that categorises its citizens and leadership that unites them; between power that speaks in files and authority that listens in marketplaces. In that choice lies the future.
And if wisdom still guides politics, then the path is clear: the man who lifts the poor today will be lifted by the people tomorrow. Come 2027, the Lion Building will belong not to class, but to compassion, and compassion already has a name.
LION BUILDING MElDIA TEAM FOR NWAKAIBIE
