Governor Biodun Abayomi Oyebanji

In politics, legacy is not claimed. Instead, it is earned, seen, and remembered. But in Ekiti State, as Governor Biodun Oyebanji enters the latter stretch of his first term, many are quietly asking: where is it?

To be clear, no one expects a governor to transform the world overnight. But leadership leaves traces, visible marks of intent, impact, and vision. So far, critics argue, Ekiti’s landscape tells a quieter story. A recent commentator went as far as suggesting the only consistent pattern of delivery has been “upkeep” to political elders. Others have questioned why, nearly three years in, there is little beyond routine governance to show.

One such voice, Isaac Fayose, known for his unabashed commentary, noted the absence of any major project launch on Democracy Day. His observation echoed a broader sentiment: that despite rising federal allocations and increasing national opportunities, Ekiti seems caught in a pause mode.

Even the flyover in Ado-Ekiti, cited by some critics as the most visible undertaking of this administration, has become more of a conversation starter than a game changer. Critics say the slow pace of construction now mirrors the tempo of governance. The state, they argue, is not short on resources but possibly on urgency.

Still, this is not a eulogy for a term not yet concluded. There is time—not endless, but enough—to change tempo, to shift focus from political rituals to real, structural reform. Health, housing, education, agriculture, these are not abstract sectors. They are the daily texture of Ekiti life.

A governor’s legacy is not defined by what he promises, nor even by what he starts, but by what the people can point to when the speeches end. In Ekiti, they are still waiting to point. And time, though not exhausted, is no longer abundant.