By Shedrack Onitsha
In the past six months, the agitation for the creation of Anioma State has moved from a peripheral conversation to the very front burner of national discourse. What began as a legislative push by Senator Ned Nwoko has, in recent weeks, gathered a momentum that now appears unstoppable. The defining moment, however, came when Senate President Godswill Akpabio, representing President Bola Ahmed Tinubu at the APC South-South Convention in Asaba, declared, perhaps in his characteristic manner, that a new Anioma State with Asaba as capital, and a reconfigured Delta State with Warri as capital, could emerge from the ongoing constitutional amendment process.
Many dismissed the statement as one of Akpabio’s well-known political “jokes.” But history urges caution. Akpabio is not a man whose words, no matter how casually delivered, should be taken lightly. His political “jokes” have often preceded real policy outcomes. What if this was not humour, but a subtle test of the waters? What if, through that declaration, the contours of a future political reality were being quietly sketched?
If that scenario unfolds, the implications for Delta State will be profound. More critically, the consequences for certain ethnic nationalities, particularly the Ndokwa and Urhobo, could be far-reaching. The Ndokwa nation, despite its demographic and geographic significance within Anioma, has struggled to assert a cohesive political voice. In the ongoing Anioma agitation, it risks being spoken for rather than speaking for itself. The urgent question is this: where will Ndokwa stand if Anioma State becomes a reality? Will it align with its Anioma kinsmen within a South-East trajectory, or maintain its longstanding socio-political affinity with the South-South?
The Urhobo nation faces an even more troubling paradox. As the largest ethnic group in Delta State, it should naturally command political direction and influence. Yet, history tells a different story; one of missed opportunities and internal disunity. From the era of David Ejoor during the creation of states under General Yakubu Gowon, to the eventual creation of Delta State in 1991, the Urhobo people have often failed to present a united front on critical issues. The inability to agree on the location of the state capital remains a classic example of how disunity can erode strategic advantage.
Today, history appears to be knocking again, louder this time. While other ethnic groups are organising, consulting, and engaging the National Assembly, the Urhobo political class seems trapped in a cycle of complacency and reactionary politics. Strategy has been replaced with rhetoric; coordination has given way to individualism. The danger is clear: when decisions are eventually made, the Urhobo may once again find themselves reacting to outcomes rather than shaping them.
Politics, especially at this level, does not reward passivity. It rewards preparation, unity, and foresight. The Itsekiri leadership understands this. Sections of the Anioma leadership understand this. They are engaging, lobbying, and positioning. The question is: who is doing the same for the Urhobo nation?
If the proposed restructuring of Delta State materialises, fundamental issues will arise: Where will the capital of the new Delta State be located? What will be the political and economic architecture of the new entity? How will representation and resource control be negotiated? These are not questions for tomorrow—they are questions for today.
Unfortunately, the prevailing silence within key Urhobo circles is deafening. There is little evidence of coordinated dialogue among political leaders, traditional institutions, and the intellectual class. There is no visible roadmap, no consensus position, no strategic engagement. It is as though the region is waiting—again—to react after decisions have been finalised.
This is not merely a political oversight; it is a generational risk.
Akpabio’s “joke,” whether deliberate or incidental, has exposed a deeper truth about our politics: that power does not wait for the unprepared. If Anioma State becomes a reality and a new Delta State emerges with its capital in Warri or elsewhere, the consequences will not be shaped by emotion or historical entitlement, but by present-day strategy.
The time for complacency has passed. The time for urgent, deliberate engagement is now. If not, when the dust settles, some will celebrate the birth of new political realities—while others will once again ask, too late: what happened?
By Shedrack Onitsha, FCIIMS, MNIPR
A Media and Public Relations Consultant writes from Ughelli.
