Nigeria was again stirred into a fresh debate on power, privilege, and the excesses of political families after Nobel laureate Prof. Wole Soyinka openly criticised the scale of security deployed around President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s son, Seyi Tinubu. Speaking at the 20th Wole Soyinka Centre for Investigative Journalism (WSCIJ) Awards in Lagos on Tuesday, the globally celebrated writer recounted an experience that left him “stunned” and convinced that the nation’s security priorities may be dangerously misplaced. Soyinka, never one to shy away from confronting authority, delivered his remarks with a mix of gravity, satire, and unmistakable frustration, igniting a national conversation that has only continued to grow louder.
According to him, he had just stepped out of his hotel in Ikoyi when he encountered a scene that he initially thought was a film set. The environment was saturated with armed security operatives—dozens of them—positioned around the premises as though preparing for a military operation. It was only after careful observation that he realised the imposing battalion-like presence was not for a state visit or a major government function, but for the movement of the president’s son. In his words, about “15 or so heavily armed to the teeth” operatives had taken over the hotel grounds, creating a spectacle that struck him as both surreal and troubling. Soyinka told the audience that the show of force in that civilian space looked “sufficient to take over a small neighbouring country like Benin.”
Disturbed by what he saw, Soyinka placed a call to the National Security Adviser to confirm whether such a security sweep for the President’s son was standard or the result of a specific threat. What he learned, he said, was even more unsettling. The elite and expansive security detail was not an exception—it was the norm for Seyi Tinubu. For Soyinka, this revelation raised serious questions about the country’s security architecture at a time when ordinary Nigerians are left vulnerable to kidnappings, insurgency, banditry, and armed robbery without the assurance of swift government intervention. The celebrated playwright expressed concern that such a heavy devotion of resources to a single individual—especially one without an official government portfolio—reflects backward priorities that may compromise national safety.
In a moment that drew laughter from the audience but revealed a deeper criticism, Soyinka joked that President Tinubu did not need to deploy the Nigerian Air Force and the military to address the recent coup attempt in Benin Republic. Instead, he said with biting humour, “Tinubu didn’t have to send the Air Force and the military. Call that young man and say, ‘Seyi, go and put down those stupid people there. You have troops under your command.’” The sarcasm was unmistakable. Soyinka wasn’t merely poking fun; he was calling attention to what he viewed as an alarming level of militarised comfort wrapped around individuals closely linked to political power.
But beyond the jokes was a deeper argument: security in a democratic society must be proportional, accountable, and based on clear threat assessments—not family ties. Soyinka emphasised that while no one denies the president’s family the right to protection, such protection must not be abused or allowed to overshadow the needs of millions. “Children should know their place,” he said pointedly. “They are not potentates; they are not heads of state.” In his view, the overextension of national security resources to shield the president’s son from even minor inconveniences is emblematic of a political culture that feeds on excess while leaving the public underserved.
His comments also touched on a broader concern: the growing influence of political children within the corridors of power. Over the past months, rumours and criticisms have circulated about Seyi Tinubu’s alleged visibility in sensitive meetings, his role in federal political negotiations, and the perception that he enjoys an outsized influence on state matters. Soyinka’s remarks, though focused on security, indirectly revived these deeper suspicions, reinforcing calls for transparency and accountability within the presidency. Many Nigerians took to social media shortly after the news broke, expressing both amusement at Soyinka’s mockery and alarm at what his revelations imply for governance.
The incident also comes at a time when citizens have increasingly questioned the use of security agencies in political and personal matters. Reports of police escorts for children of politicians, long convoys weaving unnecessarily through crowded streets, and heavy security around private events have sparked debates about elitism and inequality. Soyinka’s testimony offered first-hand confirmation—this time from one of the nation’s most respected voices—that these concerns are not exaggerated. If anything, they may be understated.
His critique raises a larger national dilemma: at a time when the security forces are stretched thin across multiple conflict zones—fighting insurgents in the North-East, battling bandits in the North-West, securing farmers from herders’ attacks, and responding to frequent kidnappings—does the country have the luxury to dedicate near-battalion-level protection to the president’s offspring? Soyinka argued that this imbalance ultimately “s¥ffers” the nation, weakening its security architecture and sending a terrible message about whose lives matter most.
Reactions across Nigeria have been swift. Supporters of the government argue that the president’s family naturally requires enhanced protection due to elevated risks. However, critics insist that there must be limits, and that the security of one young man—no matter how connected—cannot supersede the safety of a nation. Human rights advocates note that Soyinka’s comments reflect a long-standing problem in Nigeria, where state resources are often deployed to protect political elites while the public contends with insecurity largely on their own.
Soyinka’s voice carries extraordinary moral weight, especially on matters of national policy. His remarks are expected to intensify public demand for transparency regarding security allocation, as well as renewed calls for the presidency to clarify the exact role and status of Seyi Tinubu. While the government has not yet issued a formal response to his comments, the debate is likely to continue dominating public discourse in the coming days.
As the dust continues to rise from Soyinka’s bombshell remarks, one thing is clear: the Nobel laureate has once again forced Nigeria to confront uncomfortable truths. His words have opened a fresh chapter in the national conversation about privilege, power, and the cost of political excess in a country facing escalating security challenges. Whether the presidency chooses to respond or remain silent, Nigerians will be watching closely—for in Soyinka’s piercing observation lies a deeper question about the integrity of the nation’s governance and the futures of millions who rely on it.