Aare Amerijoye DOT.B.
“The more you are oppressed, the more determined you become to fight for your freedom.” – Nelson Mandela
In 1964, in the sombre atmosphere of the Rivonia Trial, Nelson Mandela stood in the dock facing the prospect of a death sentence. With an unflinching voice that would echo through history, he declared: “I have cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society… It is an ideal for which I am prepared to die.” Those words were not merely rhetoric; they were the embodiment of defiance in the face of repression. The apartheid regime thought that by imprisoning Mandela, they could suffocate a movement. Instead, his incarceration became the cornerstone of liberation.
This historical truth remains immutable: repression does not annihilate a cause; it immortalises it. Nelson Mandela once declared, ‘It is always seems impossible until it’s done.’ And Gandhi, with piercing clarity, affirmed, ‘Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent than the one derived from fear of punishment.’ What we see today in Nigeria is a grotesque inversion of democratic values, a masquerade of equality, concealing the iron fist of tyranny, crushing the very mechanisms of free political association.
But this is not the first time Nigeria has danced to the tragic rhythm of repression. We have been here before. On June 12, 1993, when the will of the people thundered at the ballot box and declared Chief Moshood Kashimawo Olawale Abiola as President-elect, a vicious hand of tyranny emerged to annul the sacred mandate. Soldiers sealed off media houses, raided political offices, and hunted down voices of dissent. Democracy was strangled in broad daylight.
Yet, the more the military junta tightened its grip, the more defiant Nigerians became. Out of that darkness rose the phoenix of resistance: NADECO, a courageous coalition of patriots, risked everything to demand justice. Bomb blasts shook Lagos, underground meetings multiplied, and even in exile, voices roared for freedom.
Today, decades later, history repeats itself not with jackboots, but with velvet gloves of deceit, choking democracy under the pretext of legality. The recent sealing off of ADC party offices in Lagos State, the closure of meeting venues in Kaduna State, and the harassment of our leaders in other states bear an uncanny resemblance to those dark years. Yesterday it was Abacha using decrees; today it is Tinubu wielding executive power. Then, it was Abiola’s mandate under siege; now it is ADC’s political space under lock and key. The tactics may differ in tone, but the music of oppression remains the same.
History teaches us a painful but undeniable truth: the more you repress an idea, the more ferociously it grows; the more you trample on a cause, the more resilient it becomes. Like a seed buried deep in the earth, repression does not kill, it germinates, taking root in the very soil of injustice and sprouting into an oak of unyielding resistance.
The recent sealing off of ADC party offices, the closure of venues for meetings, and the harassment of the Party leaders under the watchful eyes of a government that brandishes itself as “democratic” is nothing short of a national disgrace, a democratic paradox, and a chilling testament to the cowardice of the Tinubu-led administration.
One cannot but recall the irony of those who once danced in the streets for freedom now becoming the architects of tyranny. Yesterday’s victims of repression have become today’s champions of oppression. It is an oxymoron of monumental proportions a government that claims to uphold democracy strangling the very essence of democratic engagement.
But here is the eternal truth: repression breeds resistance; persecution sharpens purpose; and harassment ignites an unquenchable fire of determination. Tinubu may deploy the machinery of state to seal doors, but he cannot seal ideas. He may lock halls, but he cannot lock hearts. He may close offices, but he cannot close the conscience of a people yearning for justice, fairness, and true governance.
When the apartheid regime tightened its grip on Nelson Mandela and his comrades, the movement did not die, it soared. When Martin Luther King Jr. was jailed, the civil rights movement became unstoppable. When the suffragettes were beaten, democracy widened its arms to embrace women. History has never favoured the oppressor; it has always immortalised the oppressed who dared to rise.
What is the Tinubu administration afraid of? If its popularity is authentic, if its governance is just, if its policies are people-driven, then why silence the voice of an opposition party whose only tools are ideas, debates, and democratic mobilisation? Why deploy brute force against a party like ADC, which stands for restructuring, innovation, and inclusion?
This act of desperation is a confession of weakness, a revelation of insecurity, and an unmistakable sign of a regime terrified of its own shadows. For every office sealed, ten new grounds of resistance will open. For every meeting disrupted, a thousand silent conversations will erupt in homes, streets, and markets. For every leader harassed, a generation of fearless defenders of democracy will rise.
Let this government remember: power is transient, but the will of the people is eternal. The walls of tyranny, no matter how fortified, always crumble before the tide of justice. The more they choke us, the louder we breathe; the more they push us down, the higher we rise.
The sealing off of ADC offices is not the end, it is the beginning of a political renaissance. It is the rebirth of courage. It is the dawn of an unstoppable movement. And when the dust of history settles, those who sealed doors will find themselves locked out of the hearts of the people forever.
We shall not be cowed. We shall not retreat. We shall not surrender. Democracy is not a gift from Tinubu, it is a right purchased with the blood of heroes, and we will defend it with every fibre of our being.
ADC members, this is our defining moment. Lovers of democracy across Nigeria, this is the hour to rise! We cannot fold our arms while tyranny creeps in under the cloak of legality. We must mobilise, organise, strategise, and resist with the power of ideas, with the force of truth, and with the courage of unity.
Every sealed office must become a thousand open spaces of resistance. Every harassed leader must inspire a thousand new voices of defiance. Every attempt to silence us must echo across this nation as a thunderous roar of resilience.
Let our message be clear: we will not be silenced, we will not be broken, and we will not be bought. Democracy is ours to defend, and defend it we shall. If June 12 taught us anything, it is that no power can defeat a determined people united for justice.
So let us march forward not in fear, but in faith; not in despair, but in defiance; not in weakness, but in unwavering strength. For the soul of Nigeria, for the sanctity of democracy, for the future of generations yet unborn ADC will fight, ADC will endure, and ADC will triumph.
Aare Amerijoye DOT.B.
Director General
The Narrative Force.
