By Muhammad Bashir (PhD Candidate)
In a nation still wobbling under the weight of its contradictions, one would hope that moments of progress are not only celebrated but protected. One may wonder what direction this write-up takes, as it open its curtains with the revelation of what we all believed to be the fact—“wobbling under the weight of its contradictions.” Surely this may sound “challenging” to those who focus on praises to fire on, and not challenges to redress. It is often in our blood. But this time, no!
It is no longer a news that President Bola Ahmed Tinubu had, on the 31st of July, 2025, extended the tenure of the Comptroller-General of Customs, Bashir Adewale Adeniyi MFR, for another year and openly cited his grounds for that—even though it is not necessarily needed for him to. But I respect his choice of displaying his cards to Nigerians to set a record straight as a leader who respect transparency.
So, what happened? This announcement, after been published by Mr. Bayo Onanuga—one of the President’s pen holders, generated a heated debate on social media spaces. Every person exercising his “freedom of speech” in favour or against the development. Well, I expected the news to be received with applause for a man whose reforms have modernised the Nigeria Customs Service and earned Nigeria global prestige, instead became a trigger for a familiar affliction: the politicisation of identity over performance.
Surprisingly, these air attacks came swift and sharp—largely from some of the “politically” frustrated regions in Nigeria, where some critics labelled the move as tribalistic. That the CGC is another beneficiary of Emi lokon again. That no, Adeniyi is from Kwara—so he’s not a full Yoruba. That this was nothing but ethnic compensation. Not one mention of Adeniyi’s achievements. Not one attempt at nuance. Not one comparison to those who came before him. Just the naked claim: this is about “them” again.
But let us reflect, as scholars and citizens of conscience to interrogate these reactions with facts, not fables. Let us not allow selective memory to corrode the country’s moral compass.
Consider what has been achieved under CGC Adeniyi. The Nigeria Customs Service, under his leadership, attained its NGN 5.07 trillion revenue target for 2024 a month ahead of schedule, despite a challenging economic climate. The Service recorded seizures valued at over NGN 28.1 billion, reflecting an aggressive and intelligent enforcement strategy. Customs operations under his guidance underwent digital transformation, culminating in a 33-place leap in the Presidential Enabling Business Environment Council (PEBEC) ranking, as a result of innovations like the 24-hour cargo clearance system and the Authorized Economic Operator (AEO) scheme.
Internationally, CGC Adeniyi’s election as Council Chairperson of the World Customs Organization not only elevated Nigeria’s standing globally but affirmed his credibility among peers across continents.
These are not tribal achievements. These are institutional milestones, executed within a framework of transparency, vision, and strategic engagement.
If such metrics cannot insulate a leader from ethnic scrutiny, what hope remains for meritocracy in our civil service? I am consciously confused!
Nigeria’s tragedy is not the absence of leaders, but the presence of a public sphere unwilling to defend leadership when it is just and effective. Personal interest winning over national interests. The real enemy of progress is not tribalism per se, but the weaponisation of tribalism—the choice to dismiss competence because it comes from “the other side.” This behaviour is not just politically unwise; it is morally indefensible.
Chinua Achebe of blessed memories, once argued, “The trouble with Nigeria is simply and squarely a failure of leadership.” But perhaps the deeper trouble lies in our failure to recognise leadership when it is inconvenient to our regional expectations.
In allowing tribal sentiment to dictate the legitimacy of appointments, we do not merely insult the office holder; we weaken the very institutions upon which national development depends.
Let us, again, take a brief detour to memory lane. Col. Hameed Ibrahim Ali (rtd)—a very principled man—served as Comptroller-General of Customs for nearly eight years—2015 to 2023. He, too, was appointed by the then sitting president from his region—the North. But more importantly, he served under a regime that ordered total shut down all land borders in 2019—a move that stifled cross-border trade, destroyed livelihoods, and ruptured the commercial arteries and the entire organs of Northern and Southern markets alike. Thousands of traders from SOKEZA region, Kano, Katsina, Jigawa, Borno and Taraba wept—not because the policy was announced, but because they were never prepared for it. No consultation. No mitigation. Just a sudden strike, sweeping order from oga at the top.
Although there has been echoes of discontent within the land, Northerners often seem to add their own spices and vegetables when wailing against their own — as though it’s a familiar recipe. Perhaps that’s how we all are. But this time, let’s call a spade a spade. Where were the tribal analysts? Where were the Twitter essays and Facebook fury? The silence was not only deafening—it was complicit. The same region that now roars about tribalism watched in tacit solidarity as the national economy was bruised by a man they considered “theirs.”
We must ask: Is tribalism only offensive when the beneficiary is not from the North and vice versa? Because, surprisingly, this behaviour happens not only in the region in question against another, but also the rest. What triggers people’s blood pressure about this “cripple idea” of belittling ourselves due to regional and religious differences is how we often forget about our children’s morrow—even as we are fully aware that tribalism is indeed a smokescreen for insecurity that we all fear.
There is a certain cruelty in the way Nigeria debates leadership. A Yoruba man rises by merit—he is labelled a beneficiary of nepotism. Kilode? A Northern man is appointed and kept for nearly a decade—he is seen as entitled to the office. Yaya haka? An Igbo person dares to forcefully dreaming of presidency—and he is told to wait. Gini mere? And a Middle-Belter simply disappears into the footnotes of national attention. There must be a soft ground that will bring us all together with a common word in this country. National offices are for competent policymakers, not regional heirs.
The extension of CGC Adeniyi’s tenure is not about South-West, South-East or North. It is not even about Customs alone. It is a test case of whether Nigeria is ready to reward competence, institutional memory, and global representation—or whether we will remain slaves to the ghosts of colonial divide-and-rule logic. I often wonder what kind of country we all want in the future?
If leadership is to be judged not by what is achieved, but by who achieves it, then we have surrendered the soul of the Republic. What nation survives when its best minds are cast aside for reasons of geography? What progress can we make if every policy, every appointment, every action is filtered through the narrow lens of “where is he from?”
As scholars, journalists, civil society leaders, and public servants, we must challenge this descent into identity obsession. Nigeria’s development cannot continue to be the collateral damage of “unnecessary” tribal insecurity.
We must be intellectually honest enough to say: CGC Bashir Adewale Adeniyi has earned his place. He has redefined Customs leadership and projected Nigeria onto the global stage. And yes, his extension is both strategic and deserved. It is also lawful, until otherwise decided by a court of competent jurisdiction—not by Facebook commentators or Twitter warlords.
This article is not a defence of one man; it is a defence of principle. If Bashir Adewale Adeniyi were not Yoruba, his extension might have passed without protest. But because he is, his merits have become invisible to those who choose to see the world through ethno-regional filters.
To support CGC Adeniyi’s continuity is not to support a tribe—it is to affirm a culture of excellence, a commitment to continuity, and a belief in the value of competence over identity.
If Nigeria must survive as a nation-state, we must insist that public leadership be judged by public record, not by ancestral origin.
In the final analysis, history will not ask what part of the country a reformer came from. It will ask what institutions they built, what systems they improved, and what legacy they left behind. Bashir Adewale Adeniyi, by all objective measures, is building a legacy worth protecting.
