*THE CURSE OF BETRAYAL AND THE CALL TO STAND FOR ÒKÈÒGÙN LÓ KÀN*

*Favour Adéwọyin,* 

November 3, 2025. 

Get ready to read a long article and I have to apologise for planning to take much of your time reading this. But, you won't regret you read it; and, if you have a conscience, this content will whip your emotion. 

The subject I intend to deal with has to do with the long journey of a people who have been shackled by neglect, marginalisation and exclusion. 

Let me start by saying that, in every generation, there arise men and women whose selfish ambitions threaten the collective destiny of their people. Today, Òkèògùn and Ìbàràpá, a people who were once together before they used politics to divide them, stand at the threshold of history, ready to take their rightful place in the leadership of Ọ̀yọ́ State come 2027. 

However, the struggle for Governorship in Ọ̀yọ́ State extend to Òyọ́ and Ògbómọ̀ṣọ́ because they are also eating from the same plates of neglect, marginalisation and exclusion. 

But, in this moment of divine opportunity, across the marginalised regions, a few saboteurs — blinded by greed and personal gain — are conniving with agents of oppression to subvert the will and progress of their own people. These are the Judases of our time, men and women who trade the glory of their homeland for crumbs from the tables of strangers.

Permit me to use Òkèògùn as my point of reference, but I know there are saboteurs, sell-outs and betrayers in all the marginalised regions and I like to say that we know them. We know those who, instead of lifting their voices to advance the dream of Òkèògùn ló kàn, who are secretly deploying their resources and influence to empower candidates from another region to sustain the history of marginalisation. I like to submit that their collective betrayal is neither hidden nor honourable; it is the poisonous fruit of selfishness and moral decay. They forget that a man who despises his own Jerusalem cannot partake in the blessings thereof. When you turn against your root, you sever yourself from the favour that flows from it.

“Òdò tó gbàgbé orísun rẹ̀ yóò parun lójijì, yóò sì gbẹ” — meaning a river that forgets its source will suddenly dry up — is one of the timeless maxims of Yorùbá wisdom. With profound depth, it captures the inevitable tragedy of ingratitude and disconnection from one’s roots. The proverb reminds us that no stream can outlive the source that feeds it, just as no individual, community, or nation can thrive while despising its origin or neglecting the foundation that birthed its strength. It is a sober call to humility, gratitude, and continuity — a moral compass urging us never to forget the wells from which we have drawn life, blessing, and identity.

A typical Yorùbá person understands deeply the weight of ancestral wisdom, and such understanding ought to inspire self-reflection and responsible conduct. The proverb about the river that forgets its source serves as a mirror, reminding every individual of their moral duty to give back to the community that nurtured them. Anyone who benefits from the collective goodwill of their people yet fails to contribute to its progress becomes not just ungrateful, but a stumbling block on the path of development. Unfortunately, what we now witness in Òkèògùn is the rise of opportunists — those who, instead of supporting the noble cause of liberation from decades of marginalisation and exclusion, deploy their influence and resources to sabotage the efforts of sincere sons and daughters striving for justice and equity.

Indeed, everyone reserves the right to personal choice, and no one should be begrudged for holding a different opinion. Yet, choice carries moral weight. The Yorùbá elders warn, “Ọmọ àlè ènìyàn ní f’ọwọ́ òsì júwe ilé baba rẹ̀” — only a bastard points to his father’s house with the left hand. This timeless saying reminds us that true sons and daughters do not malign or undermine their heritage, no matter their personal preferences. It calls us to rethink the boundaries of freedom and loyalty — to understand that while choice is a right, honour is a duty, and allegiance to one’s roots is a sacred obligation.

Now, this will make me to say that the struggle for governorship power rotation to Òkèògùn is not a selfish ambition; it is a quest for fairness, justice, and equity. History bears witness to the painful yet defining journey of our people from Òkèògùn and Ìbàràpá — two regions once united in heritage and destiny before political manipulation tore them apart. In ancient times, it was from our soil that men and women were captured and sold into slavery. That dark era was an indescribable cruelty, a tragic stain on humanity. Yet, what was intended to be a curse turned, by divine irony, into a blessing. From the ashes of slavery emerged a people of resilience, intellect, and extraordinary contribution to the making of modern Nigeria. Indeed, one cannot meaningfully discuss education, enlightenment, and political awakening in Nigeria without tracing the roots back to our region.

It was from our lineage that the illustrious Samuel Ajayi Crowther arose — the enslaved boy who returned as a giant of history, the first African Anglican Bishop, and a trailblazer who laid the foundation for modern education and literacy in Nigeria. From his seed came Sir Herbert Macaulay, his grandson, the father of Nigerian nationalism and modern politics. And yet, these towering figures were born of Òṣoògùn near Adó-Àwáyè — right in the heart of our Òkèògùn homeland. Their legacy should have inspired generations of equal opportunity, but instead, our region has been systematically denied the dividends of development that others take for granted.

Despite our people’s undying passion for education, deliberate policies from as far back as the First Republic restricted our access to meaningful learning. While children in Lagos, Ibadan, Abeokuta, and Ìjẹ̀bú were attending full secondary schools, our children were confined to “Modern Schools” and "Teacher Trainings" — institutions designed to limit our people to teaching profession, rather than liberate to become captains of industries as we have in other regions. While there should be nothing wrong with teaching profession if we consider how teachers are being treated in other climes, we know how we are rating our teachers. 

As I move on, it is good to say that the historical marginalisation of Òkèògùn did not begin today; it is a deep-rooted injustice stretching across decades of governmental neglect. While the establishment of the Federal University of Agriculture and Technology, Òkehò (FUNATO) in 2025 — the first full-fledged university in our region — is a timely favour, it is also a long-overdue correction of age-old exclusion.

As we can see, this neglect has bred modern-day servitude as many of our people, in search of survival, have become the fetchers of wood and drawers of water in the urban centres. They dominate the ranks of motorcycle riders, public transport drivers, bricklayers, carpenters, housemaids, and market labourers in cities like Ìbàdàn and beyond. They toil in the sun as Marwa riders and Micra drivers, as food servers in roadside bukaterias — the unsung labour force that sustains the urban economy, yet remains unseen and unappreciated. While our people are ekking our their living through menial jobs or professions and are adding value to the society, the fact that many of them wouldn't have chosen to get involved in such jobs is the most painful and regrettable aspect of it. 

It is, therefore, both heartbreaking and infuriating to see some among us — our own brothers and sisters — who, for selfish political gains, are working against the progress and liberation of Òkèògùn, which, by extension, is the liberation of Ìbàràpá, Ọ̀yọ́ and Ògbómọ̀ṣọ́. 

To those who sell out their heritage for crumbs from the table of outsiders, you are the very chains holding your people down. If you lend your strength to external interests against the collective will of your own kinsmen, history will record your betrayal. And if you cannot offer your time, talent, and treasure toward the liberation and advancement of our land, then you stand guilty of complicity in our continued bondage.

Òkèògùn must rise again — not as divided tribes but as one people reclaiming their lost dignity. Our destiny is too great to be bartered for fleeting political favour. It is time to turn our pain into power, our neglect into nationhood, and our heritage into hope. And, if Òkèògùn gets it right to record victory in this struggle, what it simply means is that the dream for power rotation has become a reality and every other region will also become a partaker of the blessing of democracy by producing someone to occupy the highest seat in the Pace Setter State. 

Another thing to note is that, for too long, our people have remained loyal contributors to the growth and stability of Ọ̀yọ́ State, yet have been denied the opportunity to lead. Now that our sons of integrity, capacity, and vision are stepping forward, it is an abomination for any of our own to sabotage this sacred cause for personal advantage.

Let it be known that whoever rises against the collective good of Òkèògùn, whoever uses his wealth, voice, or position to undermine the region’s aspiration, stands against the very hand of God that uplifts the humble and exalts the just. Such a person cannot and will not experience divine favour. For the scripture declares: “They shall prosper that love thee.” Those who despise their Jerusalem have written their own downfall with their betrayal.

Let every true son and daughter of Òkèògùn arise with one voice, one heart, and one purpose — to defend our pride, to protect our future, and to support our own who are ready to serve with integrity. We must resist the merchants of division and expose the agents of sabotage who can use all manner of primordial sentiments of religious bigotry, political divisions and town patronage to keep us deeper in bondage. 

Therefore, we must treasure our unity because it is our weapon and our loyalty is our strength. History will remember those who stood firm for the liberation and upliftment of Òkèògùn — and it will never forgive those who sold their people for the fleeting pleasures of power and profit. The time to choose is now and there is no middle ground. Stand with Òkèògùn ló kàn or stand with shame. 

Finally, those who stand with us, by us, and around us in this noble struggle for victory will, in due time, reap the same steadfast support when their own season arrives — for indeed, life moves in divine cycles, and there is a time and purpose for everything under the earth.

*Pst. Favour Adéwọyin,*

National Secretary, Ẹgbẹ́ Àjọṣepọ̀ Fún Ìtẹsiwájú Gbogbo Wa.