One such play is currently unfolding in Lagos State, where Governor Babajide Sanwo-Olu, once regarded as the archetype of loyalty, finds himself at odds with his political godfather, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu.

To many who have observed the long-standing mentor-mentee relationship between the Governor and the President, this fallout feels like betrayal, not necessarily by Mr. Governor himself, but by unseen hands who sold him a dummy and pushed him onto a path of subtle but consequential rebellion.

How did we get here? To decode the situation, let us journey through a traditional parable, the story of the tortoise and the elephant, which, though fictional, offers a deep allegory for today’s political missteps.

Once upon a time in the animal kingdom, Tortoise — crafty, cunning, and calculating — sought to create space for his own relevance. He approached Elephant, powerful and respected but often slow to doubt those around him.

Tortoise whispered, “Why do you always walk behind the Lion? You are bigger, more majestic, more intelligent. Take your place. Lead your own charge. You owe no one your strength.”

The Elephant, flattered and encouraged, began to assert himself. He changed his walk. He altered his roar. He ignored the Lion’s counsel, believing he had finally come of age.

But unknown to him, Tortoise had no love for him. Tortoise merely wanted to destabilize the balance of the kingdom, and in the chaos that would follow, carve a path for himself.

Eventually, the Lion, watching with sadness but resolve, withdrew his protection. Elephant, left exposed and unsure of his new allies, found himself surrounded by enemies he did not even know he had.

Governor Babajide Sanwo-Olu did not emerge as Governor in a vacuum. He was not a product of rebellion or political luck. He was chosen and anointed by the President himself, the powerful Lion of Bourdillon.

Mr. Governor rose not just on merit, but on the back of long-standing loyalty, trust, and fidelity to a system that was carefully built by his political father.

For years, he played his role well. Quiet, dependable, and respectful. But something changed recently, actions that have shocked even the most seasoned Lagos watchers. Moves that have been interpreted (rightly or wrongly) as disloyalty. Decisions that suggest defiance. Signals that hint at a growing distance between father and son, master and mentee.

The million-naira question is: did Mr. Governor arrive at this place on his own? Or was he handed a dummy by schemers and opportunists who masquerade as friends?

Every politician has his circle of advisers, aides, strategists, and sycophants. In the case of Sanwo-Olu, someone , or some groups, sold him the idea that he no longer needed the President. That he could begin to chart a new course. That he could defy the old order and come out unscathed.

Perhaps they told him, “The President is now too far in Abuja, he won’t notice.” Or maybe, “He has other battles to fight; Lagos is yours now.” Worse still, some may have promised secret alliances, assuring him of a new support base, a new protectorate.

But like the Elephant, Mr. Governor forgot that the Lion may be silent, but he is never asleep. He may be in Abuja, but his presence looms over Lagos like the sun over the Atlantic. His network is deep. His loyalty meter is sensitive. And once that loyalty is questioned, the consequences are rarely silent.

In Yoruba culture, there’s a proverb that says: “Maa jo lo mo n weyin e.”
“The one dancing ahead doesn’t see what’s following him behind.”

Mr. Governor may have thought he was leading, but what followed him was political disaster — carefully planted by those who envy his position and seek to bring him down through subtle sabotage.

Let it be said boldly: Those who advised the Governor to antagonize or challenge his political father are not his friends. They are termites in his cabinet. Wolves in agbada. They may eat with him today, but they will dance on his grave tomorrow if allowed.

These advisers knew exactly what they were doing. They understood the implications. But they whispered dangerous counsel into his ears to achieve their own goals. Some may be seeking political appointments. Others want to control Lagos. A few are likely stooges for external interests who desire the disintegration of Tinubu’s Lagos stronghold.

Mr. Governor must now accept that this confrontation, whether silent or spoken , is not his natural path. It is artificial. Manufactured. Engineered by disloyal elements in his inner circle who want to see him fall from grace.

Governor Sanwo-Olu must act now — not tomorrow. Not next week. Not in whispers. Now.

He must swallow his pride, return to the President, and seek peace. A public visit. A heartfelt explanation. A private appeal. A reaffirmation of loyalty. Whatever it takes, it must be done. Because this is not just about his political survival; it’s about the legacy of Lagos. It’s about the order that created him. It’s about the message to those who come after him.

Nothing should be considered too much to bring the President back to the table. The man who gave him power must not be taken for granted. Not now. Not ever.

If God gives Mr. Governor the grace to escape this political ambush, then a purge must follow.

He must reassess his team. Clean out the poison. Identify the moles. And walk them far from his table. Their loyalty was fake. Their counsel was deadly. Their intentions were destructive.

The palace must be rid of Tortoise — before the kingdom is destroyed from within.

Mr. Governor, you are still respected. You are still seen as a gentleman. You are still regarded as someone who rose on the wings of grace and loyalty. But those wings are damaged. Not by you, but by those who whisper behind the throne.

Fix it now.

Rebuild the bridge.

Return to your roots.

Because Lagos needs a united front. And history will not be kind to the son who spat on the shoes of the father that carried him.

May wisdom guide you. And may God protect you — from your enemies disguised as advisers.

But while we speak truth to the Governor, we must also speak truth to the President.

Dear President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, you are not just a leader — you are a father. And like every father, you must sometimes look beyond the immediate pain and see the long arc of love and loyalty. Yes, your political son may have erred. Yes, his steps may have strayed. But he is still your son.

Let not the voice of envy drown the cry of repentance.

Let not the smile of your enemies overshadow the tears of your son.

The Yoruba say: “Omo eni o se’fi fun ekun paje.” (One does not hand over his own child to be devoured by a tiger.)

The Jagaban, this is the time to remember that you are not just the President of a country, but the pillar of a legacy. You created Sanwo-Olu — not just as a politician, but as a symbol of your influence. Do not let others rewrite that story with bitterness and division.

Accept his return. Embrace his plea. And teach the political class that even in power, forgiveness is not weakness — it is wisdom.
A house divided cannot stand. And a legacy shattered by pride may never be rebuilt.
Let this be the turning point — not just for Lagos, but for the larger family of progressives who have watched this cold war in painful silence.

Let the Governor rise in humility.

Let the President respond in mercy.

Let the advisers of chaos be cast out.

And let Lagos, the city of hope and harmony, remain strong, united, and deeply loyal to its roots.

Because when fathers forgive, sons become stronger. And when sons return, families are made whole again.

Abimbola Tooki is an analyst, strategist and communications professional.

Views expressed by contributors are strictly personal and not of TheCable.