Let’s be clear: the political crisis in Rivers State has reached a boiling point, with far-reaching implications for governance, the economy, and the state’s social fabric. At the heart of the turmoil is a fierce power struggle between Governor Siminalayi Fubara and his former ally-turned-adversary, Nyesom Wike, now serving as the Federal Capital Territory (FCT) Minister. The articulated vehicle that crashed into both the godfather and his estranged protégé did so with such force that it left little room for any mechanical—nay, political—realignment that could have ensured at least a semblance of stability until the next general election in 2027. It is as if both camps were already bracing for the worst, with no middle ground in sight. The battle is now an all-or-nothing affair—either snatching victory from the jaws of political annihilation or being permanently vanquished. But there is a steep price to pay, and the consequences could be dire, especially now that the Supreme Court’s judgment seems to have emboldened Wike’s supporters.

In the days following the Supreme Court’s intervention, which legitimised the pro-Wike legislators and reinforced their authority over lawmaking in the state, some of his supporters have gone a step further. They are not just pushing for Fubara’s impeachment; they are also advocating for a state of emergency in Rivers—a move that would effectively neutralise the governor’s powers. But is this truly the best solution to a crisis that has already been exacerbated by the interference of powerful external forces, including the Presidency and national party leaders from both the All Progressives Congress (APC) and the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP)? I highly doubt it, given the complex dynamics that have plunged Rivers into this political coma.

The irony of it all is that, despite the chaos, no one is willing to articulate the real reason behind Wike and Fubara’s falling out. Beyond whispers of disagreements over revenue-sharing formulas—considering the massive allocations that flow into the state—neither of the two gladiators has openly stated the root cause of their dispute. Instead, they both claim to be fighting for the soul and future of Rivers State. But what exactly does that mean? In reality, their battle for supremacy has led to a constitutional deadlock, with the Rivers State House of Assembly split along factional lines. Legal battles have followed, including a Federal High Court ruling directing the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) to withhold the state’s allocations until a valid appropriation act is passed by a legally recognised assembly. However, with the Supreme Court’s stamp of approval now in place, Fubara has no choice but to navigate the intricate web of political intrigues that will undoubtedly unfold in the coming weeks and months.

The warning signs are already there: unless both factions step back from the brink, the state could plunge deeper into crisis. This is no time for theatrics or political grandstanding. After all the rallies and road shows, it is time for serious, pragmatic leadership. Resolving the crisis requires addressing its root causes through genuine dialogue and reconciliation among all stakeholders. Governor Fubara must take the lead by engaging his opponents and former allies in a manner that is constructive and respectful.

For those eagerly advocating for a state of emergency, it is worth considering whether such a move would truly bring peace—or push the crisis into even more dangerous territory. The reality is that egos have been bruised on both sides. But should that be reason enough to set the entire state on fire? What is most alarming is the reckless haste with which some individuals are calling for emergency rule, simply to render the governor powerless. Have they forgotten that other states have endured worse crises without such extreme measures being taken? The reason is simple: history has shown that declaring a state of emergency is a contentious and often counterproductive step. While it may offer a temporary fix, it has never been the best long-term solution.

Rivers State has had its fair share of political turmoil involving its heavyweights, yet no one ever pushed for emergency rule in those cases. During his tenure as governor, Rotimi Amaechi faced a similarly divided House of Assembly and even shut down the state judiciary for a year to stave off impeachment threats. Later, the Amaechi-Wike feud over the 2015 elections saw Wike leading a protest to the state police headquarters, demanding the removal of the Commissioner of Police. Throughout these tensions, there was never a call for an emergency government. So why, then, are some now eager to ignite a full-scale crisis that could spiral into an ethnic conflict? Wouldn’t it be far more productive for all parties to return to the negotiation table and work out a political settlement—one that benefits not just the warring factions, but also the people of Rivers State, who remain the ultimate victims of this nearly two-year-long power struggle?

Let me be clear: while I strongly oppose the threats issued by certain militant groups vowing fire and brimstone should any attempt be made to remove Fubara—whom they hail as “the first Ijaw governor of Rivers State since 1999″—it is imperative for the authorities to act swiftly in preventing another Niger Delta conflagration. This crisis does not require brute force; it requires sincerity, fairness, and a genuine commitment to peace. No individual or group should feel emboldened by state power to act with impunity. Similarly, those militants threatening to bomb oil pipelines must understand that such actions would be self-destructive. Destroying critical infrastructure in their own state is akin to cutting off one’s nose to spite one’s face. Is that the path they want to take while Rivers State teeters on the edge of political and economic collapse?

Since this crisis is largely self-inflicted, its resolution must be political. After all the flexing of muscles and posturing over how the Supreme Court ruling favoured one camp while leaving the other gasping for air, wisdom demands that both sides return to the negotiating table. The exact reasons behind the breakdown of their initial agreements remain unclear, but what is certain is that political realignments and renegotiations are inevitable. Addressing the deeper structural issues that have fueled this conflict is equally critical. Any approach that escalates tensions will only breed more violence and instability—an outcome that neither the people of Rivers nor Nigerians in general wish to see.

As the saying goes, all politics is local. While the gladiators may be toasting to their so-called victories, they should remember that there are still many rivers to cross before peace is restored. As a former Inspector-General of Police, Mike Okiro, rightly noted, the first step is for all factions to sheathe their swords and allow peace to prevail. While the political heavyweights lock horns, it is the ordinary people who suffer the most. By now, everyone should grasp the consequences of withholding the state’s allocations as ordered by the court. The time for political grandstanding is over. Egos must be set aside for meaningful negotiations to take place. That is precisely why Okiro, a notable leader from the state, has urged traditional rulers, elders, religious leaders, and other key stakeholders to intervene and broker peace, while Fubara must comply with the court’s directives. Anything less would be sheer recklessness—and ultimately, counterproductive for both sides.

In conclusion, the resolution of Rivers State’s political crisis demands a commitment to peace, justice, and good governance. Above all, stakeholders must put the interests of the state and its people ahead of personal ambitions and cold political calculations. The question now is: will they listen?