28/08/2026
As copied..
A man spent years raising his son.
He fed him.
He educated him.
He taught him values.
He watched him grow from a little boy into a confident young man.
Like every good father, he wanted his son to succeed.
But he never imagined that one day, they would become political opponents.
Then it happened.
An election was announced.
Both father and son wanted the same seat.
Both believed they had something to offer the people.
Both entered the race.
The campaigns began.
Supporters took sides.
The tension grew.
Election day arrived.
The votes were cast.
The counting started.
And then came the shock.
The son had defeated his father.
Imagine that moment.
The father was not just any man.
He was Alvan Ikoku—the great educationist whose face later appeared on Nigeria's ₦10 note.
A respected nationalist.
A man admired across the country.
Yet the people chose his son, Samuel Ikoku.
What happened next is the part that many Nigerians need to hear today.
There was no family war.
No insults.
No accusations of betrayal.
No campaign of hatred.
The father accepted the verdict of the people and reportedly supported his son's political future.
Read that again.
A father lost an election to his own son and still chose peace over bitterness.
Now compare that to what we see today.
Some people attack lifelong friends because of politics.
Some insult family members because they support a different candidate.
Some see politicians as messiahs who can never be questioned.
The moment you criticize their preferred candidate, you become a saboteur.
A traitor.
An enemy.
A regional problem.
Suddenly, your years of friendship mean nothing because of an election.
Think about how dangerous that is.
More than 60 years ago, a father and son stood on opposite sides of a political contest and remained family.
Today, some people cannot survive a disagreement with a neighbour on Facebook.
Politics was never meant to make us enemies.
It was meant to give us choices.
The lesson from this story is simple:
If Alvan Ikoku could accept losing to his own son, then surely we can accept that not everyone will support the same candidate.
Democracy is not when everyone agrees.
Democracy is when people disagree without hatred.
The son won the election.
The father won something even greater.
He won the respect of history.
And decades later, we are still talking about him.
Will future generations say the same about us?
Or will they only remember how we turned politics into a war against one another?
"Can today's politicians and their supporters learn this lesson?
