By James Bamgbose
On November 26, 2010, the people of Osun State’s collective destiny were handed over to the then Action Congress (AC) now All Progressives Congress (APC), with the hope that the new political direction would unlock prosperity, institutional discipline, and people-centered governance. Twelve years later, on July 16, 2022, the electorate rendered a strong verdict that was emphatic and historic. It was not an emotional rejection, it was a referendum shaped to put an end to the hardship, economic fatigue, and accumulated disappointment. As 2026 approaches, it becomes imperative to revisit those twelve years not to reopen old wounds, but to ensure that collective memory is not replaced by convenient amnesia.
The APC years began with grand promises and carefully curated optics. There were bold declarations about urban renewal, educational restructuring, and infrastructural transformation. Billboards told a story of progress. Speeches echoed with confidence. Yet governance is not measured by aesthetics alone. Beneath the glossy presentation, structural economic weaknesses began to form. The state’s financial exposure increased significantly, and fiscal decisions often appeared driven more by political showmanship than by sustainable economic planning. While infrastructure projects dotted parts of the state, many of them were financed through heavy borrowing that would later weigh on public finances and constrain liquidity.
Over time, the financial strain became impossible to conceal. Osun, like many subnational governments in Nigeria, depended heavily on federal allocations. However, prudent states build buffers for volatility; they diversify revenue and prioritize fiscal discipline. Instead, when allocations fluctuated, Osun found itself dangerously exposed. Rather than recalibrate spending patterns early, the APC administration resorted to measures that transferred the burden of adjustment directly onto workers, pensioners and by extension the masses. It was at this point that governance stopped being theoretical and began to hurt real families.
The infamous “half salary” initiative remains the most painful symbol of that era. Civil servants began receiving fractions of their legitimate earnings for extended periods of over 30 months. Pensioners, many already advanced in age and dependent solely on their monthly stipends, were left in uncertainty and indignity. The policy was presented as a necessary austerity measure during revenue shortfalls, but austerity without structural reform merely postpones crisis. Instead of shrinking political overheads or fundamentally restructuring fiscal priorities, the adjustment disproportionately fell on ordinary workers and the state economy.
The economic consequences were immediate and devastating, consumer spending in across the state towns contracted sharply. Contractors were imported. Small businesses that relied on the purchasing power of civil servants experienced drastic declines in sales. Landlords went months without rent. Private school proprietors struggled as parents defaulted on fees. Local transport operators felt the pinch as daily commutes reduced. An entire economic ecosystem weakened because its primary source of liquidity which was the workers’ salaries was slashed as wages shrink in a civil service-driven economy, markets collapse quietly but steadily.
Households adapted in painful ways. Families resorted to borrowing from cooperative societies and informal lenders at high interest rates. Some sold personal assets. Others postponed healthcare, withdrew children from private schools, or scaled down nutrition. The psychological toll was equally severe. Public morale dipped as workers felt undervalued and unheard. Trust in government, once strong among party loyalists, began to erode even within its traditional support base. The hardship was not partisan, it was universal.
Throughout this period, many of the individuals who today occupy prominent positions within the Osun APC were just not silent observers. They were actively involved in the MoU the then Chief of Staff to the governor and Commissioner for Finance of the then administration’s economic choices. They justified the borrowing trajectory. They defended the salary modulation policy. They assured citizens that the pain was temporary and necessary. Political leadership is collective responsibility, it cannot be compartmentalized when convenient. To now separate present ambition from past participation is to rewrite history in broad daylight.
Beyond salaries, the broader fiscal architecture of the state bore scars. Debt servicing obligations tightened fiscal space. Pension liabilities accumulated. When government delays payments, private sector confidence diminishes. Investors become cautious. Entrepreneurs become defensive. Economic vibrancy is replaced with survival instinct. Osun’s economy during those years became increasingly reactive rather than strategic.
By the time 2022 approached, fatigue was palpable. The electorate did not just respond to propaganda, they responded to memory, after the then Chief of Staff to the Governor refused to act on the payment of the owed arrears of the workers. Markets remembered. Workers remembered. Pensioners remembered. The decision made on July 16, 2022, was therefore not sudden, it was cumulative. It reflected a desire to close a chapter defined by uncertainty and reopen one anchored in stability and restored confidence.
As political calculations begin to gear toward the gubernatorial 2026, the architects of the horrific initiatives have rebranded themselves as the best thing after Nigerian Jollof, thinking that Osun people had forgotten their rudderless administration of the state resources. They are trying to describe the difficult years as misunderstood brilliance. Whereas governance is judged holistically. It is evaluated by how policies affected the most vulnerable, how resilient the economy proved under stress, and how leadership responded when crisis emerged. By those metrics, the twelve-year APC administration left behind lessons that cannot be lightly dismissed.
Democracy thrives on choice, and opposition politics is essential for accountability. However, making choices without memory is risky. The core issue before Osun voters in 2026 is not whether the APC can campaign effectively, it is whether the political structure that presided over prolonged salary reductions, economic contraction, and mounting fiscal strain has convincingly demonstrated that it has transformed its economic philosophy and leadership culture, which we all know is a lie. Reinvention requires acknowledgment, reflection, and credible reform, not mere rebranding and shying away from terrible leadership decisions.
The story of 2010 to 2022 is not abstract history, it is a lived chapter etched into the daily experiences of families across Osun State. It is the story of workers who budgeted half income, of pensioners who waited anxiously, of small traders who watched their profits evaporate. It is a reminder that governance choices ripple outward, touching every home.
As the gubernatorial period draws nearer, Osun people must remember that elections are investments in the future informed by evidence from the past. Political rhetoric may evolve, but records remain. If hardship taught the state anything, it is that fiscal indiscipline and misplaced priorities carry real human costs.
Lest they repeat history, Osun must keep its memory intact. For when citizens forget, cycles return. And when history is ignored, it has a way of demanding attention again, often at a higher price.
- James Bamgbose writes from Igbajo, Boluwaduro Local Government, Osun State.
