By Jacob EDI
Every place develops a reputation. Some fair, some exaggerated, some stubbornly outdated. For years, Kogi State, Nigeria’s geographical and symbolic confluence, carried a political odour problem. Not the smell of failure alone, but of chaos; unpaid salaries, noisy politics, institutional anxiety, and a sense that governance was permanently on edge.
When Ahmed Usman Ododo took office on January 27, 2024, he did not promise perfume. He promised order.
Two years on, what his administration appears to be doing is something far less dramatic but arguably more important; deodorizing the confluence. Not masking problems with scent, but cleaning the room, opening windows, fixing broken systems, and letting governance breathe again.
Ododo’s style has confused some observers. He is not loud. He does not govern like a man in a hurry to impress Abuja or trend online. But if governance is judged by atmosphere as much as announcements, Kogi today feels calmer, more predictable, less acrid.
That, in Nigerian politics, is not a small achievement.
Cleaning the Finances Before Decorating the House
Bad governance often announces itself through unpaid bills. The smell lingers; contractors grumbling, workers anxious, institutions paralysed.
Ododo’s first instinct was not to announce projects, but to clean up the books.
Kogi’s domestic debt, once hovering above ₦120 billion, was aggressively restructured and reduced to about ₦35 billion. This was not sold as a miracle, but its consequences were unmistakable. International credit assessors, rarely sentimental, responded by assigning the state a “B-” credit rating with a positive outlook.
That single rating did something Nigerian politics often ignores; it changed perception. Suddenly, Kogi was no longer just a political headline; it was a subnational entity with improving financial hygiene.
More importantly, salaries and pensions became more predictable. Civil servants stopped holding their breath at month-end. The emotional temperature of governance cooled.
Ododo understood something basic; you cannot deodorize a space while refusing to take out the trash. Fiscal discipline became his air freshener, not flashy rhetoric.
Infrastructure Without the Smell of Abandonment
Few things smell worse in public administration than abandoned projects.
Rather than launch a carnival of new constructions, Ododo focused on finishing what already existed and fixing what people actually use. Roads were not chosen for symbolism, but for utility.
The Zone 8–Barrack–Zango road and similar corridors in Lokoja now move traffic, commerce, and lives with less friction. Street lighting, often ignored until elections, has improved safety after dark. These are not glamorous interventions, but they are felt.
Environmental and erosion control projects have also received attention. In flood-prone communities, prevention is not abstract policy; it is survival. By addressing these quietly recurring threats, the administration reduced the annual cycle of disaster, sympathy, and rebuilding.
No drum rolls. Just infrastructure that does not reek of neglect.
Agriculture as a Deodorant for Rural Despair
Rural economies rot when they are ignored. Youth drift, insecurity grows, food prices spike.
Ododo’s agriculture policy treats farming not as nostalgia, but as economic infrastructure. Through programmes like ACReSAL, farmers received tractors, improved seedlings, water access, and training. Thousands of hectares were reclaimed for productive use.
The significance goes beyond yields. A productive farmer is harder to recruit into violence, harder to displace, and more invested in community stability. Agriculture, in this sense, deodorizes rural despair before it ferments into crisis.
Kogi’s challenge ahead will be agro-processing and market access, but productivity is the necessary first cleanse. Ododo has started there.
Education: Letting Young People Breathe
Education systems suffocate when costs pile up. Fees become toll gates that quietly exclude the poor.
By sustaining bursaries, scholarships, and paying external examination fees like WAEC and JAMB, the Ododo administration has reduced the financial suffocation families face. Free basic education has been reaffirmed, not merely declared.
This is not philanthropy. It is demographic sense.
A generation locked out of education becomes a long-term liability; socially, economically, politically. By lowering barriers, the state has allowed young people space to breathe and plan.
Quality remains a work in progress, but access is the oxygen without which quality debates are meaningless.
Healthcare That Doesn’t Smell of Neglect
Healthcare neglect announces itself quietly; preventable deaths, late presentations, exhausted clinics.
Over 100 primary healthcare centres have been upgraded or rehabilitated under Ododo. These are not showcase hospitals. They are the places where women give birth, children get immunised, and emergencies are stabilised.
In rural Nigeria, proximity is healthcare. A functioning clinic nearby reduces deaths, debt, and despair. These investments deodorize a system long associated with absence.
No billboards. Just lives quietly saved.
Security Without the Stench of Panic
Security governance often smells of panic; knee-jerk reactions, militarised rhetoric, empty assurances.
Ododo’s approach has been steadier. Strengthening community-level security, supporting formal agencies, and focusing on coordination rather than theatre has helped maintain relative calm across key corridors.
Markets function. Schools stay open. Farms are accessible.
In a national environment where insecurity dominates headlines, normalcy itself becomes an achievement. Stability, when maintained, rarely announces itself.
Local Governments: Fixing the Source of the Odour
Many state governments deodorize the centre while ignoring the source; dysfunctional local governments.
Ododo’s reforms of the Local Government Service Commission, training, welfare improvements, and accountability structures address governance where it actually touches people. Clean streets, functioning primary schools, responsive offices; these begin locally.
By professionalising grassroots administration, the state has tackled a root cause of governance decay rather than merely spraying perfume at the top.
Youth Policy Without the Smell of Tokenism
Youth empowerment often smells of tokenism; short-term stipends, photo ops, empty promises.
Ododo’s focus on skill-based programmes in renewable energy, automotive technology, and vocational trades signals a longer view. Young people do not need slogans. They need relevance.
The scale must grow, and private sector linkage is essential, but the direction is right; capability over charity.
A Governor Cleaning, Not Performing
Two years in, Ahmed Usman Ododo governs like someone more interested in maintenance than applause. He has chosen the slow, unglamorous work of deodorizing governance; cleaning finances, stabilising systems, finishing projects, and lowering social pressure points.
There are still smells to deal with. Water infrastructure needs urgency. Revenue diversification must deepen. Private investment has to be courted more aggressively. Deodorizing is a process, not an event.
But compared to the stale air of the past, Kogi today feels ventilated.
In Nigerian politics, where leaders often mistake noise for impact, Ododo’s lesson is unfashionable but necessary; sometimes the most effective governance is the kind that removes the stench and lets people breathe.
And it is just two out of the regulatory eight years of two terms.