The story of development in Nigeria is often written in the dust and mud of its roads. Highways are not just strips of asphalt; they are lifelines that connect farms to markets, towns to cities, and families to opportunity. When they fail, they do not simply inconvenience motorists. They cut communities off, strangle economic activity, embolden criminals, and corrode public trust in governance.
In Edo State, the decay of federal roads has for years symbolized this national malaise. Yet under Governor Monday Okpebholo, a new chapter is being written—one where leadership refuses to hide behind jurisdictional excuses and instead accepts that the welfare of citizens must come before the politics of federal and state boundaries.
For years, Edo people watched with frustration as critical highways deteriorated into craters and death traps. The previous administration under Godwin Obaseki adopted a stance that proved deeply unpopular: the belief that federal roads should remain the federal government’s responsibility. In principle, this seemed administratively correct, but in practice, it was devastating. Roads are not used by “federal people” or “state people.” They are used by Nigerians—most especially the people of Edo who bore the brunt of neglect.
By refusing to intervene, even temporarily, the past government left commuters stranded, traders counting losses, farmers unable to move produce, and families exposed to grave danger. The failures on these highways became not just logistical nightmares but metaphors for indifference, deepening the divide between citizens’ expectations and governmental response.
Governor Okpebholo has chosen a markedly different path. From his first months in office, he treated the condition of federal roads not as an abstract problem awaiting Abuja’s slow machinery but as an urgent developmental and security challenge. His administration flagged off emergency palliative repairs on major failed sections in Edo North and other critical corridors that had effectively collapsed.
These actions are more than symbolic. They have restored mobility to areas where traffic once crawled or stopped entirely, brought relief to cut-off communities, and given traders and farmers renewed access to markets. By acting visibly and immediately, the governor has sent a clear message: Edo cannot afford to wait for distant bureaucracies while its people suffer.
Okpebholo’s approach is practical and people-centered. Instead of endless promises about future projects, he has prioritized quick interventions—grading, resurfacing, and erosion control—so that relief is felt within weeks, not years. Though temporary, these measures reduce accidents, facilitate commerce, and restore normalcy. In a country where federal reconstruction can take decades, such stopgaps are lifesaving.
Importantly, the governor has reframed road rehabilitation as a matter of public safety. Criminals exploit broken highways to stage kidnappings and robberies. By fixing failed sections, the government is not just repairing asphalt but reclaiming territory from criminal elements. Passable roads are easier to patrol, safer for travelers, and harder for criminals to exploit.
Beyond repairs, Okpebholo has opened Edo to partnerships and external financing. At the recent Glasgow Investment Summit, $250 million in diaspora and private commitments were secured across energy, agriculture, and industry. This reflects a shift from insular management toward global engagement, expanding Edo’s revenue and development base.
His administration also leans into accountability. By flagging off projects publicly, setting timelines, and giving updates, it creates benchmarks against which citizens can measure progress. This visibility builds trust, showing citizens that governance is not about excuses but results.
The larger lesson here is pragmatic federalism. Too often, Nigerian governors deflect responsibility by insisting certain facilities belong to Abuja. Okpebholo has rejected this excuse. His decision to act affirms that governance is judged by outcomes, not paperwork.
Of course, caution remains: emergency palliatives are no substitute for permanent reconstruction. Yet Edo’s model shows how states can buy time, ease suffering, and strengthen their case for federal follow-up. The key is clean procurement, quality delivery, and transparency.
Still, the significance of these interventions cannot be overstated. Roads touch every aspect of life—from trade to education to healthcare. By acting where his predecessor stood aside, Okpebholo has not only rehabilitated stretches of tarmac but also restored care, dignity, and hope between government and citizens.
If other states follow this example, the transformation of Nigeria’s federal roads may not begin in Abuja but with courageous governors who refuse to normalize neglect. Edo’s story shows that fixing roads is not just about infrastructure—it is about leadership, responsibility, and restoring the promise of progress.
