Friday, August 28, 2026

An Open Letter to Dr Chima Matthew Amadi (Mazi Gburugburu)

 


Dear Dr Chima Matthew Amadi (Mazi Gburugburu),

I am writing this letter at a time when your name is travelling from one community to another, from one conversation to another, and from one gathering to another. You have chosen to enter a political contest that will demand much from you, but before politics becomes about numbers, meetings, posters and the final decision of the people, I want to speak to the man who has chosen to take this journey.

There is something courageous about putting yourself forward for public service. It means accepting that people will look at your life from different angles. Some will admire you, some will question you, some will support you because of what they know about you, while others may form opinions without knowing your story. Once you step into the public space, you cannot control every opinion about you. What you can control is the kind of person you choose to remain. That, perhaps, is the most important part of this journey.

Dr Chima, as you travel through Owerri Zone and meet different people, I hope you remember that every face you see carries a story. The woman who welcomes you at an August meeting has her own struggles. The young person who approaches you may be carrying a dream that he has not told anyone. The elderly man who shakes your hand has memories of a different Nigeria and may have watched many political seasons come and go. The mother who smiles at you may have worries hidden behind that smile. You may meet hundreds of people during this campaign, and it may not be possible to remember every name, but for some of them, meeting you may be a moment they remember for a very long time.

That is why I hope you will never underestimate the importance of kindness. Politics can make people forget the simple things. It can make every gathering feel like a contest and every conversation feel like an opportunity to gain an advantage. But beneath all of that is humanity. People still want to be respected. They want to be heard. They want to know that those who seek to represent them understand that their lives are real and their concerns are not merely campaign material.

You have chosen a road that will place you among people from many different backgrounds. Some will welcome you warmly. Some will ask difficult questions. Some will disagree with you openly. Some will not understand your intentions. Do not allow any of these things to make you lose the patience to listen. A person does not become weaker by listening. Sometimes, listening is the strongest thing a person can do.

There will also be moments when you will be tired. There will be days when the journey from one engagement to another feels long. There will be evenings when you return home and realise how much energy a political campaign can take from a person. When those moments come, remember that you are not the first person to discover that public service comes with sacrifice. The road to public office is never only about the destination. It is also about everything the journey teaches you.

You will learn about people you might never have met otherwise. You will hear stories that may change the way you look at certain issues. You will see the strength of communities and the determination of people who continue to build despite difficulties. Allow those experiences to shape you. Do not let politics harden your heart. That is one of the greatest dangers of public life.

It is easy to become surrounded by people who tell you only what you want to hear. It is easy to believe every cheer means agreement and every criticism means hatred. But a person who truly wants to serve must be able to separate praise from truth and criticism from malice. Keep people around you who can tell you when you are wrong. Keep people around you who will remind you of the promises you made to yourself before the applause became loud. Keep people around you who will never allow public office to make you forget where you came from.

And when you meet ordinary people, never treat them as ordinary. The trader who leaves her shop to attend a meeting is important. The farmer who works under the sun is important. The student worrying about tomorrow is important. The worker struggling to provide for a family is important. The woman building a small business with little support is important. Their lives are part of the reason public service exists. This is why your political journey should always remain connected to the human beings behind the statistics.

One day, this campaign will be over. The meetings will end. The speeches will stop. The vehicles will no longer move from one gathering to another with the same frequency. The posters will gradually disappear, and people will return to their ordinary routines. And when that happens, what will remain? Your title may remain for a while. Your photographs may remain in people's phones. Your name may remain in political conversations. But the deepest thing that will remain is how people remember you.

Did you make them feel respected? Did you encourage them? Did you keep your word? Did you remember the people you met when there was no camera present? Did you remain accessible after the excitement had gone? Those are questions that no campaign team can answer for you. Only your life can answer them.

Dr Chima, you are now asking the people of Owerri Zone to look at you as someone who can carry a responsibility on their behalf. That is a serious request, and I hope you carry it with the seriousness it deserves. Do not be in a hurry to prove everything. Let your actions speak. Let your character speak. Let your consistency speak. Let time speak.

There will always be another slogan, another speech and another political argument. But there is only one you. Protect the person you are beneath the politics. And if the road becomes difficult, do not be ashamed of the difficulty. Some journeys are difficult because what lies at the end of them matters.

Your journey has only begun, and nobody can predict every turn it will take. There will be unexpected doors, unexpected friendships, unexpected challenges and perhaps moments that will test you more than you imagined. Meet each one with wisdom. If you succeed, remain humble. If you are criticised, remain calm. If you are praised, remain grounded. If you make a mistake, have the courage to admit it. If you are given an opportunity to serve, remember that the office belongs to the people, not to the person occupying it. That is the difference between holding a position and leaving a legacy.

I hope that years from now, when you look back at this period of your life, you will remember more than the political outcome. I hope you will remember the people you met, the hands you shook, the stories you heard, the communities you entered and the lessons you learnt. I hope you will remember the faces behind the crowds. And most of all, I hope you will remain the kind of person who understands that public life is ultimately about people.

Dr Chima Matthew Amadi (Mazi Gburugburu), this is an open letter, but it is also a simple reminder. The road ahead is yours to walk. Walk it with courage, walk it with humility and walk it with a heart that remains open. Walk it knowing that people are watching, but also knowing that beyond the eyes of the public is your own conscience, which will one day ask you whether you truly gave the journey your best.

May you have the strength for the difficult days, the wisdom for the important decisions and the humility to remember the people who make every political journey possible. And when this chapter eventually becomes history, may it be a chapter worth remembering.

With sincere wishes for the journey ahead,

Nightengale Ben-Onyeukwu

 

 

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An Open Letter to Dr Chima Matthew Amadi (Mazi Gburugburu)

  Dear Dr Chima Matthew Amadi (Mazi Gburugburu), I am writing this letter at a time when your name is travelling from one community to a...