By Iyeneabasi Mercy Etim
As we have come to expect, it is the presidency and Lagos State that have received the most attention as the 2027 general elections draw nigh. This writer, although from Akwa Ibom State, had to quickly Google the names of the aspirants in her own state so that if anyone asks why I am not “shooking eyes” there, I can pretend I am.
But this is no surprise. Lagos is home to more than 20 million Nigerians and serves as the economic nerve center of the country. In fact, if Lagos State were a country, it would be the 5th largest economy in Africa, so we are all naturally interested in who becomes the governor of this “country within a country.”
Perhaps we can permit political clowns to run other states, but in Lagos, we are all analytical experts who have come to expect the absolute best from our leaders.
With this high standard comes a merciless type of scrutiny. It is an exacting filter that reminds us that Lagos is a stage far too high for cosmetic politics and desperate reinventions.
This isn’t Game of Thrones, where the mere declaration of a house name, a loud cry of “I am Joffrey Baratheon, the First of My Name!” is supposed to command unearned fealty from the masses. Yet, it would appear that this precise brand of lineage entitlement is the primary forte of Gbadebo Rhodes-Vivour, and perhaps the only thing the Lagos-born MIT graduate is actually bringing to the table.
The former Obidient and former Labour Party aspirant, who has now migrated to the African Democratic Congress (ADC) is once again putting on a flashy show built entirely on convenience-based identity shifts.
GRV has routinely treated his famous, aristocratic double-barrelled surname as a golden visa. When he contested for a seat in the House of Representatives years ago, he leaned heavily into his maternal heritage, eagerly embracing the name Chinedu. At the time, amplifying his eastern ties served a distinct political purpose among specific demographics in Lagos. He repeated this exact script as a Labour Party aspirant, weaponizing “Chinedu” to emphasize his southeastern origins, coasting on the coattails of the Peter Obi wave to garner popular support.
Fast forward to the current governorship race, and the “Chinedu” persona has been quietly tucked away. Today, he has shifted entirely back to Gbadebo, a calculated effort to project an indigenous southwestern appeal. This fluid identity-hopping raises a fundamental question for voters: who is the real candidate behind the strategic marketing? When a politician alters his primary identity depending on the ballot box he is targeting, does it not simply represent crude opportunism?
That is exactly why I am completely over the raging discourse concerning his Yoruba language proficiency. His inability to speak fluent Yoruba at recent town hall events is at best, a trivial distraction.
The problem isn’t that he speaks broken Yoruba; the problem is that he has a broken resume. His career track record demonstrates an underlying incompetence. A governor does not manage a multi-trillion naira economy with cultural idioms or proverbs; they manage it with administrative capacity, legislative understanding, and deep execution strategy. Obsessing over his language skills lets him off too easily. Even if he were the most articulate orator in the history of the Yoruba race, it wouldn’t cure his total lack of readiness for the grueling, gritty realities of governance.
If we look past the linguistic noise, we are forced to look at what truly matters, the glaring holes in his professional record.
Apart from using his surname as a master key, Rhodes-Vivour’s supporters frequently point to another name, his alma mater, the prestigious Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT). Having an elite education is undoubtedly commendable, but an MIT degree is not a magic wand for running a complex mega-city. We have seen giants in the architectural field build exceptional systems, but what major, defining project has Gbadebo actually conceptualized and executed to conclusion with his education? Where has he demonstrated this vaunted competence in his professional life? Can anyone point us to a time when Gbadebo firmly established himself in his industry or rose through the demanding corporate ranks in any sphere before demanding the keys to Alausa?
Look at the modern history of Lagos governance. Every single individual who has sat in that gubernatorial seat arrived as a heavy hitter who had already risen to the absolute peak of their respective careers. Bola Ahmed Tinubu was a seasoned corporate titan and the former Treasurer of Mobil Oil Nigeria before entering public office. Babatunde Raji Fashola was a brilliant Senior Advocate of Nigeria (SAN) who thoroughly mastered state mechanics as Chief of Staff. Akinwunmi Ambode rose all the way through the ranks of the civil service to become the Accountant-General of Lagos State. Babajide Sanwo-Olu boasted a stellar corporate banking background and ran major state institutions like the LSDPC as CEO. Then, two-time commissioner.
Consider Deputy Governor Femi Hamzat, who is now running for office. Before co-steering the state as Deputy Governor, he built a formidable professional record abroad at global giants like Merrill Lynch and Morgan Stanley before serving as an executive at Oando. With over two decades in governance, this highly technical IT expert has managed multi-billion naira infrastructure portfolios as a long-serving commissioner.
Even alternative leaders without governance experience possess unquestionable professional substance. Consider Funso Doherty, who commands immense respect after building an undeniable corporate career at Arthur Andersen and Goldman Sachs, eventually serving as the pioneer MD/CEO of ARM Pension Managers and PAL Pensions.
Lagos requires a leader with proven executive capacity and stable, unshakeable conviction. It is far too complex to be run by mediocre, superficial thinking, whether that thinking is done in Yoruba, English, or French.
A name like Rhodes-Vivour might unlock a door in Lagos Island, and an MIT degree might command respect in a boardroom, but when that double edged name is stripped away, the actual substance left to govern Lagos State remains dangerously thin.