Copyright leadership
When Governor Usman Ahmed Ododo assumed office earlier this year, I didn’t think much of it. Like many Kogites, I felt the transition from Governor Yahaya Bello was too contentious, especially with the debate over power rotation to other senatorial districts. So, I kept my distance. But leadership, as they say, reveals itself over time — not in campaign slogans, but in the quiet choices a man makes when no one is watching. A few months ago, I began to hear things. Civil servants were talking about salaries being paid early, retirees whispering about hopes of gratuity payments, and contractors quietly returning to sites. Then came the shocker in June: the state government had paid off ₦90 billion of inherited debt. For a state that once struggled to meet its obligations, that was no small feat. With that single act, Kogi freed itself from a fiscal stranglehold that had limited its scope .It was a reset moment that changed the rhythm of governance. Today, workers receive salaries and pensions promptly, and plans are underway to clear outstanding gratuities. There’s a new air of confidence within the civil service — not because anyone is making noise about it, but because results speak for themselves. In the health sector, the administration has rolled out the Kogi State Health Insurance Scheme, ensuring that access to healthcare is not a privilege for a few but a right for every family. It’s a modest but meaningful step toward protecting lives and livelihoods. The education front is equally telling. From primary school to SS3, education is now free across the state. Parents no longer have to scrape together money for NECO, JAMB, or BECE exams. For many low-income households, this is the difference between hope and despair. On infrastructure, the story continues. The Lokoja International Market is nearing completion, projected to be the largest in Northern Nigeria. It will boost commerce, create jobs, and place Lokoja firmly on the regional trade map. Then there’s the Kogi Airport project , scheduled to commence in December, and the Kogi Free Trade Zone, also advaced stage of its take off. Both projects would certainly redraw Kogi State in the map of second generation states in Nigeria. They will unlock the long-term competitiveness of the state in huge tourism wealth and Lokoja will revert to its old glory of tourism centre in Nigeria. Across the three senatorial zones, development has taken a practical form. In Kogi West, the Kogi State University, Kabba, is rising from the ground, with construction works valued at ₦17 billion. Erosion control projects in Kabba and surrounding towns are ongoing, while the College of Education (Technical), Mopa, is said to be flagged off soon. In Kogi Central, expansion continues at the Confluence University of Science and Technology (CUSTECH) — a new Senate Building, Faculty of Medicine, and student hostels now dot the campus. Urban renewal works are reshaping the major towns. And in Kogi East, multiple road and erosion projects are being executed simultaneously — in Idah, Akpa, Oguma, Omala, and Ayangba — giving life to communities that once felt forgotten. None of these developments has come with fanfare. No endless billboards. No noisy publicity. Yet the evidence is visible, and the results are loud enough to talk about. Governor Ododo’s leadership may lack the dramatic flair that politicians often crave, but it carries the quiet confidence of one who understands that governance is not theatre. The mantra, “Silent Work, Loud Results,” is gradually proving to be more than a catchy phrase. It is becoming a culture — one that suggests that maybe, just maybe, Kogi has found in Ododo a leader who prefers to build with qualified silence. And in a country where too many politicians measure performance by the volume of their voices, that, in itself, is a refreshing change.
