In a democracy teetering on the edge of elite capture and hollow symbolism, President Bola Tinubu’s administration has managed to plumb new depths with its careless, almost farcical handling of this year’s national honors. What should have been a solemn and dignified moment of reflection and recognition was instead turned into a disorganized circus; highlighted most glaringly by the obscene blunder of conferring posthumous honors on living Nigerians.
Yes, you read that correctly: Pa Reuben Fasoranti and Dr. Edwin Madunagu, both very much alive and lucid, were casually tossed into the category of “posthumous awards” during Tinubu’s Democracy Day address to a joint session of the National Assembly. That the Presidency had to scramble to walk back this mortifying error is an indictment not only of administrative incompetence but also of the entire Tinubu-era approach to governance – superficial, hasty, performative, and fundamentally unserious.
But the embarrassment doesn’t stop at bureaucratic sloppiness. Even more troubling is the deeper rot exposed by the broader pattern of who gets honored and why. In a stunning display of institutional debasement, sitting principal officers of the National Assembly – the very people tasked with holding the executive accountable – were decorated with national honors. What message does this send in a country battling runaway insecurity, economic disintegration, mass public anger and disillusionment, and growing authoritarianism? These lawmakers, many of whom have abdicated their constitutional duty of oversight, are now recipients of the nation’s highest accolades – for what, exactly? For their silence? Their complicity?
This administration has weaponized national honors as political patronage, not principled recognition. The process has become so discredited that it no longer elevates the recipients — it stains them. When honors are awarded not on merit but on loyalty, docility, and political expediency, they cease to be honors at all. They become badges of shame.
The contrast with the past could not be more damning. June 12 was once a date sanctified by blood and bravery — a symbol of the people’s long struggle against tyranny. It represented the valor of those who risked their lives for democracy, including journalists, civil society actors, and everyday citizens who defied bullets to demand justice. To now turn that sacred day into a vehicle for rewarding cronies and flattering rubber-stamp legislators is a desecration of the legacy it was meant to honor.
And yet, this is entirely on brand for a government that has perfected the art of optics over outcomes, of ceremony over substance. The Tinubu administration, through its missteps and misjudgments, is trivializing the meaning of honor and disfiguring the moral compass of a nation already groping in darkness.
A national honor, by definition, must mean something. It must speak to sacrifice, excellence, moral courage, and national service. To throw it around like party favors — and with such stunning incompetence — is not only an affront to the awardees who truly deserve it, but to the nation itself.
We must say it plainly: It is not honor when it is not earned. Until Nigeria reclaims integrity in the way it recognizes national service, the medals may glitter, but they will be made of mud.
