Leadership And Storytelling In Election Season

I keep a weekly diary, which is my own way of telling different stories about Nigeria and the world, encompassing politics, economy, society, and our endless search for leaders who can make promises and deliver results. Sometimes, I stir the pot of Nigeria’s public life.

Of course, we know about the danger of the single story, but that’s not what I will address today. Stories shape societies. Compelling stories create impact that shapes the future. And leaders who fail to tell honest stories shape nothing but frustration and disappointment.

A Story from the Trenches

In 2004, in a bedroom in Kaduna, Sam Nda-Isaiah and his wife, Zainab, conceived the idea of a newspaper. She told the story before of how her husband got up in the wee hours, scribbled a few things in a jotter, and asked what she thought. That idea, born in intimacy and nurtured in courage, later became LEADERSHIP newspaper.

The question before us is simple: What stories are today’s leaders telling, and what leaders will those stories produce tomorrow?

Anatomy of Impactful Story-telling

I have learned over the years that storytelling is not decoration. It is a discipline. Every leader – whether in government, business, civil society, or the media – is a storyteller. The question is not whether you tell stories, but what kind of stories you tell, how you tell them, and whether they have the impact you intend.

Dele Giwa, Ray Ekpu, Chinua Achebe, Wole Soyinka, and Mahmoud Jega are some of my favourite storytellers. Also, I have watched politicians craft narratives that have lifted nations, as I have seen them tell stories that inflame, incite and destroy. I have seen corporate leaders build empires on the back of compelling vision, and others lose everything to the gravity of their own contradictions.

But let me start from home, with a story my mother told me, which I have often shared with my two wonderful grandchildren, Ezhinne, 7, and Ekeneolise, 5.

It’s about two siblings who ventured into parts of a forbidden forest in defiance of their mother’s advice. Thanks to the older sibling’s pressure, the two young girls’ curiosity led them into an evil forest, where evil men captured them.

For days, the girls refused to eat or drink. To survive, they later yielded and took some food.

One day, they caught their watchers off guard and escaped. When the chief priest heard, he charged the strongest demons in the land to pursue the girls, who didn’t know that the meals they had eaten had bound them to the evil forest. What was worse for the fleeing girls was that the people of the evil forest had a song that, when recited, slowed any runaway captive.

The song goes like this: “Ori ni iji nmo, ota n’oka nmo okpiri gbue ye, ndalu ndalu, gbue, gbu, nko, nko, gbue ba’sa ndalu, ndalu, ndalu….”

The harder the girls ran, the slower they moved, especially as the song’s words echoed behind them. Roughly translated from Ukwani to English, the song invokes the demons to speedily kill whoever has eaten the food of the evil forest.

By sheer instinct, and almost exhausted, the younger of the two girls turned the song around. Here was how she sang it:

“Ori ni iji nmo, ota n’oka nmo okpiri sa’a ya, ndalu ndalu, sa’a ya, nko, nko, sa’a ya be gbue ndalu, ndalu, ndalu….”

Roughly translated, the song says the gods should be merciful and spare whoever has eaten the food of the evil forest.

That response weakened the spell and gave the fleeing girls speed. The ding-dong continued until finally, the girls crossed over to safety, but not without their pursuers leaving a huge mark on their backs, which is the gutter we all bear behind our backs today!

The moral of that story was: if you don’t listen to your parents, there will be consequences that may not only affect you, but outlive you!

Impactful storytelling

First, the story must be genuine – and it may be improvised/aspirational, like my mother’s story, or true. Not just technically true, but emotionally, circumstantially, and contextually true and relatable. It also should be morally coherent. A leader who tells a story that people cannot feel in their bones will not lead for long.

When Mr. Peter Obi speaks, whether you agree with him or not, you feel a sense of conviction or ambivalence. When former Vice President Atiku Abubakar speaks of experience, you hear the burden of six attempts. When President Bola Ahmed Tinubu speaks of renewal, you either feel hope or exhaustion, depending on where you stand.

Second, the story must be timely. A story told too early is ignored. A story told too late could be irrelevant. The art of leadership is knowing when the moment is ripe for the narrative.

Third, the story must be actionable. A story that inspires but does not instruct is entertainment, not leadership.

What Stories Are We Telling?

Let me turn the mirror on ourselves. What stories are Nigeria’s leaders telling today, and what leadership will those stories produce tomorrow?

On the economy, we tell the story of renewal and hard times. As elections draw near, we hear official accounts of macroeconomic progress. But the story must connect today’s pain with tomorrow’s promise. When people ask the government what it has done with savings from the removal of petrol subsidy, for example, they are testing the coherence of the economic narrative. Leaders must answer not only with policy but with story – why this pain, for how long, and toward what end?

The Media Shaping Stories

Let me speak directly to the leaders and organisers of this forum who are building tomorrow’s leaders. We are not just observers of leadership stories; we are co-authors. Commentary is not enough. We must also curate, contextualise, and challenge the stories that leaders tell.

We must tell stories that protect national interest without descending into propaganda.

A Call to Today’s Leaders

To the leaders in this room, and future leaders, whether in government, business, civil society, academia or whatever, I say this: your story is your legacy.

I was a boy from Ajegunle who entered the University of Lagos journalism programme with no patron but plenty of promise. Many years later, I am still here, writing, mentoring, and believing that Nigeria’s story is worth telling, well and often. I have won awards, written books, and stirred controversies.

But the award that matters most is the one I cannot hold: the knowledge that my storytelling has contributed, in some small way, to a better understanding of Nigeria and a stronger commitment to its future.

You have the same opportunity. Your story—told with truth, timed with wisdom, and translated into action – can shape tomorrow’s leadership. Do not waste it.

The Story Continues

The story is not over. And I challenge you to tell it. Nigeria’s story is not over. The question is: what kind of story will we tell together, and what kind of leadership will that story produce?

I believe in Nigeria not because it is perfect, but because its story is still being written. I believe in leadership not because leaders are flawless, but because leaders who tell the right stories can inspire flawed people to do great things.

Learn to tell stories that matter. Tell stories that move. Tell stories that make tomorrow’s leaders proud of the foundations you laid today. It’s your life. It’s your story. Tell it. Live it!

This article was adapted from “Storytelling for Impact: Today’s LeadHERS for Tomorrow’s Leadership,” on October 8, a presentation at an event by The Young Communicators Initiative to mark this year’s International Day of the Girl Child.