There are some things a society must never forget, especially when elections are approaching. One of them is the experience of the ordinary man on the street with connections with any influential figure to facilitate anything.
Political parties will come and go, politicians will change platforms, campaign posters will cover the streets, social media will become noisier and supporters will invent new narratives to sell their preferred candidates, but the civil servant will still have to pay rent,
pensioner will still need money to buy drugs, the retired teacher will still have to feed his family, and the worker will still expect his salary at the end of the month.
This is why the current political conversation in Oyo State, particularly as the 2027 elections draw closer, deserves to be approached with something more valuable than partisan loyalty or selective memory.
Governor Seyi Makinde is not above criticism. Far from it. His administration should be questioned whenever it gets something wrong. Its figures should be scrutinised. Its policies should be debated. Its promises should be measured against delivery.
But there is a difference between holding a government accountable and deliberately forgetting the consequences of what came before it.
For Oyo state workers and pensioners, that distinction is not theoretical. They have lived it. The years before Seyi Makinde’s era when salary became a big political issue.
The administration of the late Governor Abiola Ajimobi did not create every economic problem confronting Oyo State. The country was going through a difficult period. Federal allocations fell, oil revenues declined and many states struggled to meet their wage bills.
The then APC government under late governor Ajimobi of blessed memory repeatedly made that argument, and there was substance to it.
In June 2016, for instance, the state government said it was confronted with a monthly salary bill of about ₦5.2 billion, while the state received only about ₦2.1 billion from the Federation Account that month.
It also received ₦1.39 billion from the Budget Support Facility but there was another side to the figures. Behind every salary arrear was a family waiting and hoping for the salary to arrive.
Behind every unpaid pension was an elderly man or woman. Behind every delayed gratuity was somebody who had spent decades working for the state.
In 2016, the Nigeria Labour Congress embarked on an indefinite strike over allegations that workers and pensioners were owed six months’ salaries and pensions. The dispute eventually lasted about seven whole weeks.
The then APC government subsequently announced the release of funds to pay one month of salary. For someone sitting in an office discussing budgetary constraints, “one month of salary” may sound like an administrative achievement.
For a worker who has not been paid for six months, it means something entirely different. It means six months of accumulated school fees, six months of rent anxiety, six months of borrowing, and six months of explaining to one’s children why there is no money. That was the human face of the salary crisis.
Pensioners had an even harder story because if the serving worker had a difficult experience, the pensioner had very little room to manoeuvre. A worker could, at least, continue working but a pensioner could not. That is why the pension crisis of the period remains one of the most painful chapters in Oyo’s recent political history.
In 2017, labour alleged that state workers were owed four months, state pensioners four months, local government workers between five and 11 months, while retired primary-school teachers were allegedly owed as much as 56 months of pension.
Think about that number for a moment.
Fifty-six months is almost five years.
Imagine a retired teacher who had spent decades standing before children in a classroom, earning a modest salary, looking forward to retirement with the expectation that government would honour its obligations.
Then retirement comes and the money does not. Month after month, year after year.
The Vanguard reported in August 2017 that retired primary-school teachers were protesting alleged 56 months of unpaid pensions, alongside gratuities dating back to 2008. The report quoted pensioners describing the consequences in terms of hunger, sickness and poverty.
By November that year, the situation had become so desperate that about 3,000 retired primary-school teachers and pensioners reportedly took to the streets of Ibadan, and their complaint? Pension arrears ranging between 17 and 56 months.
There is a photograph more powerful than any political speech in that story: elderly men and women, many of them grey-haired, marching through the streets to ask government for money they had already earned.
That should remain part of Oyo’s political memory, not because the past should be used to settle old political scores but because history becomes dangerous when people forget it.
The crisis was not limited to retired workers. Employees of some state-owned tertiary institutions also found themselves in an increasingly difficult situation.
By late 2017, workers in six state tertiary institutions were reported to be owed as much as 16 months’ salary. Among the institutions mentioned were The Polytechnic, Ibadan; Emmanuel Alayande College of Education; Oyo State College of Agriculture and Technology, Igbo-Ora; Ibarapa Polytechnic; Oke-Ogun Polytechnic and Oyo State College of Education, Lanlate.
In October 2018, workers of Emmanuel Alayande College of Education protested at the state Secretariat over outstanding 16-month salary arrears, and again, government offered explanations, again, the economic circumstances were cited and again, workers bore the consequences.
This is where political arguments often become disconnected from ordinary life.
Government may explain why a salary cannot be paid but the landlord does not accept “reduced federal allocation”, the child’s school does not accept “ economic recession”, the pharmacist does not accept “budgetary constraints”, the market woman does not accept “cash-flow problems” and then, the family simply needs money.
By 2018, the pension dispute had already reached the courts. The Nigeria Union of Pensioners sued the APC led Ajimobi administration over alleged unpaid pensions and gratuities put at ₦42.3 billion.
That figure should be treated carefully. It was the amount claimed in the pensioners’ case and should not be presented as an independently audited figure established beyond dispute.
But the fact that pensioners had reached the point of taking the government to court over such a huge liability says a great deal about the depth of the crisis itself.
It was no longer merely a disagreement between labour and government. It had become a crisis of confidence, and to be fair, Ajimobi’s government did make payments
In August 2017, the government announced the release of more than ₦13.7 billion to settle five months of salaries involving local government workers, primary-school teachers and pensioners.
In October 2018, Ajimobi also approved the payment of September and October salaries after arrears had accumulated.
These interventions are important to acknowledge.
The problem was that they came against the backdrop of a much larger and persistent arrears crisis.
The era is best described as an administration that struggled for prolonged periods to maintain regular salary and pension payments and accumulated substantial arrears that became a recurring source of industrial disputes and pensioner protests.
Governor Seyi Makinde came into office in May 2019. He did not inherit an empty table, he actually inherited liabilities; unpaid retirement benefits. He inherited workforce whose relationship with government had been badly strained and lacking in confidence.
And he inherited pensioners who had spent years waiting for benefits. According to the Oyo State Local Government Staff Pension Board, the Makinde administration inherited more than ₦36 billion in retirement-benefit backlog alone.
By April 2025, the government said it had paid more than ₦23 billion in gratuities and death benefits to retired primary-school teachers and local government staff since 2019.
By February 2026, the figure had risen to more than ₦29 billion, according to the same government agency. That however, does not mean every retiree has been paid.
It does not mean every complaint has disappeared, it simply means something else is happening: the administration has been putting increasingly significant resources into a problem that it inherited.
For the serving civil servant, perhaps the most important difference is not found in a grand government building or a newly commissioned road. It is found in the bank account.
The Makinde administration has consistently maintained that workers’ salaries are paid on or before the 25th of every month uninterruptedly till date.
That is a simple thing, critics and opposition elements may argue but anyone who has ever had to survive without a salary for months under the APC administration knows exactly, that it is not a small thing.
There is a psychological security that comes from knowing when your salary will arrive. You can plan, borrow responsibly, pay school fees, budget for food, meet your rent obligations, and take care of even your aged parents. The absence of that certainty can destroy a household, and that, is the big deal.
This is why the difference between the six-month salary crisis of 2016 and the reported regular salary payments under Makinde should not be dismissed as a minor administrative detail. It is a difference ordinary people can feel.
The economic crisis that immediately came after the removal of the petrol subsidy presented another major test; prices of everything; foods and services jumped up immediately while salary remains relatively stagnant compared to its economic value.
Transport became more expensive, food became more expensive, and household budgets became tighter. Rather than wait for workers and pensioners to absorb the shock alone, the Makinde administration introduced a temporary welfare intervention.
Workers received ₦25,000 monthly, while pensioners received ₦15,000 monthly to cushion the adverse economic effect of the petrol subsidy removal as the workers’ wage award was subsequently extended for another six months.
Was it enough to solve the cost-of-living crisis? Of course not. No serious person would make that argument but it was an intervention designed to put additional money into households during an extraordinary economic period. Now, that’s a real big deal.
The administration later implemented an ₦80,000 minimum wage, effective January 2025. At about the same period, the government announced a pension review that brought the minimum pension to ₦25,000 and included a 33 per cent pension increase.
Again, one can argue that the figures should have been higher, that inflation has swallowed much of the benefit, or that workers deserve more. They are all legitimate arguments, but they should be arguments about how to improve an existing system, not arguments built on pretending that the system was always this way under the past government.
There is another number that deserves more attention in this political season.
₦3 billion. That is the monthly gratuity allocation announced by the Oyo Government in 2026, following a series of increases in the amount dedicated to clearing retirement benefits.
Earlier, the monthly allocation had been increased to ₦1 billion. Then it was raised to ₦3 billion. If maintained for 12 months, ₦3 billion monthly represents an annualised commitment of ₦36 billion.
That is a substantial amount of money.
It does not mean the backlog disappears overnight. It does mean that retirement benefits have become a major recurring fiscal commitment, and perhaps that is the point many political arguments miss.
A pensioner does not need to know who won an argument on Facebook. The pensioner only needs to know whether the money will enter the account, and this is where 2027 becomes important.
The argument here is not that every civil servant should become a supporter of Governor Makinde. That would be unhealthy for democracy. Workers should criticise him, pensioners should complain when their gratuities are delayed, Trade unions should negotiate,
Journalists should investigate, opposition parties should challenge government, and Makinde should answer.
But there is a difference between criticism and political amnesia. A worker can say: “Makinde has done well on salary payment, but he must do more for us.”
A pensioner can say: “I appreciate the pension review, but pay my outstanding gratuity.” Those are perfectly reasonable positions. What is dangerous is when somebody says, in effect: “Because I dislike Makinde or an overwhelming false political narrative is trying to twist facts, I no longer care what happened before him.”
That is where political propaganda becomes expensive at the expense of those consuming those false narratives. This is so because the person who pays the price for a bad government is rarely the political influencer who campaigned for it.
It is the workers, pensioners, and the helpless families. The danger of returning to the past without remembering it therefore becomes even more dangerous for the people and particularly the people who have tested governance across both sides.
There is a very simple question every worker and pensioner should ask before the next election: What happens if salary arrears returned in the face of current economic realities, what happens if pension payments become irregular again, what happens if gratuities begin accumulating again, what happens if workers return to the streets, what happens if retired teachers once again have to march to the Government Secretariat, and what happens next if a pensioner who has spent 30 years in public service has to wait years for an entitlement?
The answer is painfully simple. The politician will probably move on to another campaign or political party. The party will issue another statement. The social-media influencers will find another subject but the pensioner will remain at home with the unpaid bills.
That is why workers and pensioners must be careful about the politics of anger or amplified falsehood to trigger outrage.
Anger is legitimate but anger without memory can become self-inflicted punishment.
Oyo must distinguish between criticism and self destruction. There is nothing wrong with demanding that Makinde perform better. There is everything right about it but the question should be: Better than what, better in comparison with the ideal or better in comparison with what Oyo previously experienced?
If Makinde has failed to pay an entitlement, let government explain. If a retiree is being owed gratuity, let the government pay. If workers are struggling with inflation, let government improve their purchasing power. If there are allegations of waste or mismanagement, investigate them but do not use legitimate criticism as a vehicle for erasing the historical record of good governance.
Do not forget that record of the past under the APC administration before Makinde are still there. Six months of salary and pension arrears in the 2016 labour crisis. Four months owed to state workers and pensioners in 2017, according to labour. Five to 11 months allegedly owed to local government workers. Up to 56 months allegedly owed to retired primary-school teachers. Up to 16 months of salary reportedly owed in some state tertiary institutions.
₦42.3 billion in alleged pension and gratuity liabilities cited in the 2018 pensioners’ legal action.
Against that historical background, the Makinde-era figures also deserve to be remembered for: ₦25,000 monthly welfare wage award for workers, ₦15,000 monthly welfare payment for pensioners, ₦80,000 minimum wage, ₦25,000 minimum pension, 33 per cent pension increase, more than ₦29 billion reportedly paid in retirement benefits since 2019, and now, ₦3 billion monthly allocation for gratuity payments.
These numbers are not the whole story of governance but for workers and pensioners, they are an important part of their story.
There is another warning that needs to be sounded. The answer to political propaganda is not counter-propaganda, the answer is very simple; evidence. Makinde should not be worshipped because salaries are being paid, he should not be excused where he has failed and government should also continue publishing credible figures on inherited liabilities and payments.
Retirees should be able to know how many people are still waiting, how much is outstanding and when they are likely to be paid. That is what responsible government looks like, but the people must also take responsibility for remembering otherwise it becomes what I call ‘inclusive failure’.
Democracy gives citizens the power to remove a government. That power should be exercised with memory, not selective memory or outright amnesia.
There is perhaps no better judge of government policy than the person who has nothing to gain from political propaganda. A pensioner who has spent decades in government service does not care much about the sophistication of political messaging.
He simply just wants his pension, gratuity, to buy his medication, eat decently, and sleep without worrying about the next meal.
The retired teacher who once marched through Ibadan because of 56 months of alleged pension arrears understands the meaning of government differently from a politician.
For him, government is not a slogan. It is the money that arrives, or does not arrive in his account. That is why the title of this article is intentionally blunt: A civil servant or pensioner who is silent on criticism against Makinde won’t be pitied if Oyo returns to the dark era. It is not a call for blind loyalty, it is a call for memory.
Criticise Makinde, demand more from him, hold him accountable but do not allow false political propaganda to convince you that every administration is the same because they are certainly not and Makinde’s government has proven it.
The difference between receiving a salary on the 25th and waiting six months is not political theory. It is the difference between planning a family’s life and living from one emergency to another.
The difference between receiving a pension every month and waiting 56 months is not partisan rhetoric. It can be the difference between dignity and desperation.
The difference between a government allocating ₦3 billion every month toward gratuity and one struggling with enormous accumulated arrears is not something a responsible electorate should ignore. Oyo people therefore have a duty before 2027.
Oyo people must remember very importantly, that when politicians leave the office after an election, the civil servant and pensioner remain behind to live with the consequences of the choice made with their ballot boxes.
If the past ever returns, nobody should pretend that the warning signs were not there. And if Oyo chooses a different direction that leads them right back into a past that should have been buried forever, then that choice should also be made with its eyes widely open because political parties may own their histories but the consequences of their governments belong to the people who make the choice.
Ibrahim Adekola writes from Yemetu, Ibadan.