“Wike is heading toward an iceberg, as a drunkard, a loud, dope-smoking jackass, he gets away with noise-making because those who should take him seriously do not. Wike, in my view, drinks too much. He knows nothing beyond Rivers politics, He is a third-class clown fueled by alcohol, ego, and noise, a nuisance, too loud, too crude, too reckless and now, dangerous”
The problem with money, when in the hands of certain people, is that it possesses and devours them, taking hold of their soul, mind, and entire outlook on life.
I do not know Nyesom Wike personally. I first came upon the man listening to a recording of him threatening to kill a political enemy on TikTok. Prior to that, I had taken my foot off the pedal when it came to politics in Nigeria. I was in Sweden, listening to this man with a gravel voice, speaking with authority like a king, making that threat—heard by millions around the world.
I contacted my uncle, Ambassador Dr. Dele Cole, who told me Wike was a joke. But to me, he did not sound like a joke.
After that, my Swedish TikTok began feeding me everything Wike. The algorithm was clearly sending a message: pay attention to what is going on in Rivers State. I saw Wike sitting in a throne-like chair, boasting to friends about brandy costing ten thousand euros a bottle. A public official, a former governor of Rivers State, drinking expensive brandy and displaying it openly. I saw him breathing down royal fathers, fighting with journalists, constantly giving interviews. Then the icing on the cake—Wike in Abuja insulting a young naval officer.
It felt as if something was pointing him out to me: Kio, look at this. Wake up.
And I was eight thousand miles away in ice-cold Sweden asking myself: who is this man?
Wike is under the impression that he owns Rivers State. He truly believes nothing can be taken from him, that his position and past dealings have made the state his private dominion. He is wrong.
He has a reputation—as a drunkard, a loud, dope-smoking jackass—and yet he gets away with it because those who should take him seriously do not.
I do not know his nemesis, the present governor. I am not involved in their political struggle. But as a citizen and son of Rivers State, I will voice my opinion out of concern.
I am fed up.
Fed up with the violence.
Fed up with the racism.
Fed up with the threats to life.
Fed up with corruption, foolishness, and political mind games.
Fed up with the destabilization of the state by Bola Ahmed Tinubu, a bush man posing as president.
I have never seen anything like this in my life. And I am certain the founding fathers would be deeply upset. Yakubu Gowon helped create the state with my father and other leaders from the region. They did not build it for this.
Wike, in my view, drinks too much. He knows nothing beyond Rivers politics—going straight from university into that world—leaving his outlook narrow and limited. I watch him speak, completely absorbed in himself, loving every second on stage, playing to the crowd that thrives on his “body man” antics.
And when I can understand what he is actually trying to say, I think to myself: there stands a man who believes himself powerful—yet he is no Adolf Hitler, no evil genius. He is a third-class clown fueled by alcohol, ego, and noise.
He looks worn. Hard living shows. Few speak well of him, yet the street loves him. And that is what makes him useful—useful to powers outside the state who deploy him to carry out mischief.
To someone like me—the old elite—he is a nuisance. Too loud. Too crude. Too reckless. And now, dangerous.
I have done my own research on Wike. There are things I find deeply disturbing—things I will not reveal. But I will say this:
If he does not come down from that high horse, history has a way of repeating itself.
What happened to Benito Mussolini did not come from outside forces—it came from within.
He reminds me of Huey Long—detested by the elite, loved by the working class, a loud, drunken demagogue who reshaped politics and believed himself untouchable… until someone close to him ended it.
Wike is heading toward an iceberg.
And it will not be an outsider who brings him down. It will be someone close.
I wish no man evil. But there is a very dark shadow hanging over his head.
