The press releases are polished. The photographs are pristine. Governor Dapo Abiodun, hard hat perched firmly on his head, cuts ribbons and breaks ground with the assured air of a man building a legacy. The headlines tout progress: new roads, a world-class airport, revitalised hospitals. But behind the glossy facade of Ogun State’s development blitz lies a question no one in government seems willing to answer:
How much does it all cost?
For six years, this administration has operated with a financial opaqueness that would make a Swiss bank blush. Billions of naira in public funds are being spent, yet the most fundamental detail, the price tag, is treated as a state secret. This isn’t a matter of bureaucratic delay; it is a deliberate and systemic silence that violates the very laws designed to protect the public purse.
I have spent weeks poring over the Nigerian Public Procurement Act of 2007, a document that reads like a direct rebuke to the culture of secrecy. Its language is not ambiguous. Section 5(f) mandates the publication of major contract details. Section 16(12) orders that procurement records be maintained for a decade and made available for public inspection. Section 16(13) requires that these records be sent to the oversight Bureau of Public Procurement (BPP).
The law is a scaffold of transparency, built to sunlight. The Abiodun administration, however, prefers to work in the shade.
The Inner Sanctum: Where Numbers Go to Die
This culture of secrecy is not just a policy; it is a structure carefully engineered from the top. According to multiple high-level sources within the government who spoke on condition of anonymity for fear of reprisal, the final costs of major projects are known to only two men: the Governor and the Secretary to the State Government (SSG), Mr. Tokunbo Talabi.
“The only two people that know the final costs of these major so-called flagship projects are the occupier of the SSG’s seat and the Gov himself,” one former official revealed. “Others like Commissioners and Special Advisers just take queue turns in the SSG’s waiting room, for no less than four hours daily, to defend their files in front of an SSG who, incidentally, is not a voting member of the State Executive Council but just a member in attendance only.”
This concentration of power is unprecedented. The SSG, a non-elected official, is seen on a daily basis with the Governor inspecting projects and attending state functions, often relegating the statutory managers of these projects, the Commissioners, into the background or oblivion. In media spaces, they are often seen watching from the edges while the SSG takes centre stage with the Governor.
“Commissioners operate on the instruction of the Governor: they cannot have a minute’s chat with the Governor directly but must go through the SSG,” another source confirmed. “He alone drives and runs every other person in government—state and local, the legislative, and even the judiciary. He even wields immense influence in the political space.”
It is the first time in the history of Ogun State that a non-elected individual exercises such sweeping control over the machinery of government, effectively acting as the gatekeeper to the governor and the sole custodian of the state’s financial secrets.
The Ghost Budget: A Trail of Projects Without Prices
The list of projects is a familiar refrain to anyone following Ogun State news. It is the soundtrack to the governor’s tenure. But when you mute the fanfare and look for the data, you find only silence—a silence enforced by this tight, two-man operation.
Take the Gateway International Airport Agro-Cargo Project. Touted as an economic catalyst that will transform the state’s agricultural sector, it is arguably the administration’s flagship project. Its scale is massive, its potential, immense. Yet, its cost is a mystery locked away in the inner sanctum. Is it N50 billion? N100 billion? N200 billion? The government’s official communications are curiously devoid of this minor detail. It is like advertising a new car—extolling its leather seats and sunroof—while refusing to tell potential buyers the sticker price.
The pattern repeats itself like a broken record:
- Renovation of General and State Hospitals, including procurement of laboratory and medical equipment
- Revitalisation and procurement of equipment for 80 primary health centres across the state
- Construction of roads and upgrading rural roads across Ogun State
- Construction of fire stations across the state
- Procurement and energisation of transformers across local governments
- Construction of the Ogun Lodge Government House in Abuja
- Construction of the OGIRS Revenue House
- Construction of a modern Court of Appeal complex in the state
- Rehabilitation of feeder roads covering about 150 km
- Construction of Ogun State Agro Cargo Airport
- Agricultural projects, including the agri-business hub farm project
This is not governance; it is a performance. And the citizens of Ogun State are being asked to applaud a show without being allowed to see the budget.
“A Fertile Ground for Corruption”: Why Secrecy Matters
Why does this matter? It’s just a number, right?
Wrong. The deliberate concealment of contract costs, centralised in the hands of so few, is the first and most vital step in a process that leads to waste, fraud, and abuse. It is the financial equivalent of turning off the lights before a crime.
“When you don’t disclose costs, you create a fertile ground for corruption,” explains a procurement lawyer in Lagos who requested anonymity for fear of reprisal. “There is no benchmark for accountability. How can you know if a road was overpriced if you don’t know its official price? How can you track budget performance? The entire system of checks and balances collapses.”
The Procurement Act itself, in Section 16(21), places the blame squarely on the shoulders of the “accounting officer.” In this case, that is the governor and his appointees. The law states they are “responsible and accountable for any actions taken or omitted to be taken either in compliance with or in contravention of this Act.”
The silence is not just inappropriate; it is, on its face, illegal.
A government that is proud of its spending should be eager to disclose it. A government that has secured the best deals for its people should want to announce them from the rooftops.
The continued secrecy from Governor Abiodun’s administration, funnelled through an all-powerful SSG, suggests something else. It fosters a climate of suspicion and erodes the fragile trust between the governed and their government.
The people of Ogun State are not asking for a state secret. They are asking for what is already, by law, theirs: the right to know how their money is being spent.
The Governor has built a legacy of concrete and steel. But a legacy is only as strong as the foundation it’s built on. A foundation of secrecy and centralised, unaccountable power will always, inevitably, crack. It is time for Governor Abiodun to turn on the lights and show us the books. The law demands it. The people deserve it.
