Egbetokun’s Resignation and Transient Nature of Power

Muiz Banire writes that the recent resignation of the erstwhile Inspector-General of Police, Kayode Egbetokun, is a clear example of how transient the nature of public power is.

The flurry of headlines that trailed the resignation of former Inspector-General of Police, Kayode Egbetokun, provides yet another opportunity to interrogate a troubling culture that has taken root in our media ecosystem, sensational reportage at the expense of accuracy, nuance, and institutional understanding.

One would think that in a country striving to deepen its democratic culture and entrench the rule of law, reportage around sensitive public offices and events such as the insecurity scenarios would be guided by restraint, context, and fidelity to facts.

Sadly, what we often witness is the opposite as the rumour mill has always taken precedence over trained approach to news dissemination. When I encountered headlines screaming “fired,” “removed,” and “forced to resign,” I could not help but smile, not out of amusement alone, but out of recognition.

The spectacle reminded me vividly of my own experience during my disengagement as Chairman of the Asset Management Corporation of Nigeria (AMCON).

At the time, I was away attending a course when I learnt, through media reports, that the enabling law had been retrospectively amended and that a new chairman had been appointed.

Till today, I have not been formally served any letter of removal or disengagement. Yet, the airwaves and blogs were awash with “triumphant” headlines proclaiming that I had been “fired.” In my subsequent intervention then, I described the episode, somewhat tongue-in-cheek, as “good riddance to bad rubbish,” not in self-denigration but in a candid acknowledgment that I had been personally practically subsidising my service to the nation. I was sacrificing time, expending personal resources, and even risking my safety to attend meetings in Abuja. Public office, as many insiders know, is often less glamorous than it appears.

What the public sees is the title; what they rarely see is the toil. That episode has since remained restraint from accepting public office for me any more. That personal recollection came flooding back as I read the reportage surrounding Egbetokun’s exit from the Nigeria Police Force. It raises a fundamental question: what kind of journalism are we practicing? Today, virtually every individual with a smartphone and a data subscription, no matter how minimal, assumes the toga of a journalist. Verification has become optional; sensationalism has become salaciously mandatory. Legally speaking, particularly alluding to the Police Act, and as someone who has had the privilege of conducting litigation under the new Police Act, I am not speaking from conjecture. The legal framework is clear. An Inspector-General of Police appointed under the current statutory regime enjoys a fixed tenure of four years from the date of appointment, irrespective of the statutory retirement age or length of service. The wisdom behind this provision is evident: to insulate the office from arbitrary removal and to shield its occupant from the whims of transient political or administrative disagreements.

The office of the IGP is not meant to be a revolving door subject to executive irritation. Stability in law enforcement leadership is essential for institutional coherence and operational continuity. The logic is philosophical as much as it is legal. Montesquieu, in The Spirit of the Laws, argued that liberty is secured when power is structured, limited, and shielded from caprice. A fixed tenure for critical security offices is a structural safeguard. It ensures that operational disagreements do not metamorphose into impulsive dismissals.

I have hitherto canvassed the same protection for the occupiers of the offices in the anti-corruption agencies.Therefore, by the import of the law, the appointing authority, the President, cannot unilaterally remove a serving Inspector-General without complying strictly with the dictates of the statute. The logical implication is simple. Except the Inspector-General resigns voluntarily, removal cannot occur through executive fiat alone. Consequently, the language of “firing” or “forced resignation” is, at best, careless and, at worst, mischievous. Resignation, by definition, is a voluntary act. If anyone alleges that a resignation was forced, intellectual honesty demands that the circumstances be stated as it is only the ‘resignor’ that may allege being forced to resign. Was it induced? Was it coerced under duress? Was it compelled through unlawful pressure? Without factual substantiation, such claims amount to speculative fiction dressed up as news. Another curious undertone in some commentaries is the implicit suggestion that the office of the Inspector-General of Police is hereditary or permanent.

One would think that power, in Nigeria of all places, would have taught us humility. Every office is transient. Every occupant is temporary. No one must be carried away by the illusion of permanence. If those before had not vacated the office, would Egbetokun himself have ascended to it? Leadership transitions are not aberrations; they are the rhythm of institutional life. It is, as the old saying goes, “soldier go, soldier come.” Power is a relay baton, not a family heirloom, particularly, in a system like ours that has abandoned monarchy in favour of constitutional democracy, no matter how imperfect. Indeed, if one does not leave office voluntarily, one day, the office will leave the occupant. No public office is an idol. It is not “oye idile”, a Yoruba expression for office heredity. It is not hereditary. It is a trust, temporary, conditional, and accountable. What troubles me even more is the tendency to vilify public officers at the slightest opportunity. When my friend and brother, Badaru Abubakar, resigned his ministerial office  under President Bola Tinubu, the media was similarly agog with insinuations and negative postulations. The same pattern trailed the transition of Christopher Musa within the defence architecture. In each case, speculation outpaced substance. Same with the case of Ajuri Ngelale upon his resignation as presidential spokesman. Must service to the nation inevitably culminate in public suspicion or odium? When did we, as a people, begin to relish the supposed adversity of those who step aside from office or public service? This is not the Nigeria I once knew. Disagreement is legitimate; scrutiny is necessary; but sadistic delight in perceived downfall is neither noble nor constructive. There are countless reasons why a public officer may resign. Health concerns. Family obligations. Principled disagreements. Strategic recalibration. Even political ambition. In contemporary times, it is not outlandish to speculate that an exiting official might be contemplating electoral participation. If so, that too is within his rights. Ultimately, the individual knows best the considerations that informed his decision.In his instance, he has posited family consideration. Period.  Our duty as observers is to respect that autonomy. This culture of vilification must stop if our bests are to be encouraged into public office.  In fact, from my experience in public office spanning over two decades, I know that it is only when a public officer in Nigeria is performing that you experience criticisms and abuses. Once a public officer is ignored, it simply implies that such public officer is not impacting system and society, that is, nothing positive is happening and it is business as usual. Again, those who have never operated within the corridors of power often underestimate the complexity of governance. Decisions are rarely linear. Balancing interests, managing institutional tensions, navigating political sensitivities, these are realities that do not make it into headline banners. What plays out publicly is often a fraction of what transpires internally. A resignation, therefore, may reflect intricate considerations invisible to the uninitiated.

It may be the outcome of delicate power dynamics or strategic repositioning.

To reduce such complexity to crude verbs like “fired” or “forced out” is to trivialise governance.

As one chapter closes, another opens. Just as I have every reason to commend the gallant officer, IGP Kayode Egbetokun, for a deserved retirement, I must extend my warm congratulations to Tunji Disu, the newly appointed Inspector-General of Police.

Our paths have intersected for nearly three decades, and I can attest to his competence, resilience, and professional depth. He is no pushover. He understands the terrain. He knows his onions. The task before him is enormous. The expectations of Nigerians are high. Policing in a complex society demands courage, intelligence, and moral clarity. I wish him a successful and impactful tenure.

As I conclude this intervention, my appeal is simple. Let us replace conjecture with verification, sensationalism with substance, and malice with measured analysis. A democratic society thrives on information, but that information must be credible.

Public office is a trust, not a throne. Entry and exit are part of its design. When transitions occur, especially through resignation, they should not automatically be draped in suspicion. Egbetokun has served and served with distinction. Others too will serve.

The institution endures beyond personalities. And as always, power remains transient, accountable, and ultimately subordinate to history. The Nigeria Police, as an institution, will endure beyond personalities.

Power, as philosophy teaches us, is transient; accountability is permanent. Let us therefore elevate our discourse. Let us interrogate facts before amplifying narratives. Let us appreciate that resignation is not synonymous with disgrace, and transition is not equivalent to turmoil.

In the final analysis, the dignity of public life depends not only on those who hold office but also on those who report on it. A celebration of ‘removal’ of a successful security chief only paints the jubilant as actual or potential criminals who think society does not need effective policing.

A society that values truth must insist that reportage enlightens rather than inflames. Only then can our democratic journey mature beyond spectacle into substance.

Three hearty cheers must be offered to the distinguished officer, Kayode Egbetokun, on his retirement. I can only wish you prosperous relaxation in further active service to humanity as that page is unending. It only closes when life expires. Congratulations.

-Dr Banire writes from Lagos.