By Ovasa Ogaga,
Urhobo Nation, the fifth-largest ethnic group in Nigeria, often hailed for its population strength and cultural richness, is fast becoming a tragic paradox—a giant in numbers but a dwarf in influence. With a population of over eight million spread across Delta, Bayelsa, Edo, and even as far as Ondo and Plateau states, the Urhobo people boast one of the most widespread ethnic footprints in Southern Nigeria. Yet, despite this, the nation lacks political direction, economic leverage, and a cohesive agenda for development.
Under the current Delta State administration led by Governor Sheriff Oborevwori—an Urhobo son—one would have expected the Urhobos to rise into political and economic prominence. Instead, Urhobo appears more divided, disoriented, and weakened than ever. The power Urhobo once had seems lost in translation, leaving its people directionless, watching others define their place in the affairs of the state.
Urhobo's problems mirror those of the larger Nigerian state—abundant in resources, rich in history and talent, yet crippled by internal disunity, lack of vision, and leadership betrayal. Despite producing some of the most brilliant minds in academia, sports, arts, and entrepreneurship, Urhobos cannot speak with one voice or rally behind a shared developmental agenda. What plays out is a sorry spectacle of internal sabotage, petty rivalries, and chronic disorganisation, even from its apex organisation, like the Urhobo Progress Union, UPU, the once foremost and vibrant social-cultural group, today has become a caricature of its old self.
This disunity has left Urhobo politically vulnerable. Even within Delta State, where they account for nearly 50% of the population, Urhobo leaders now routinely beg for crumbs from less populous but better-organised minority groups. In the 2023 elections, despite having the governorship slot zoned to Delta Central, Urhobo leaders had little say in who emerged as the PDP candidate. The Anioma bloc, in contrast, united their fragmented communities to produce a widely-accepted candidate in 2015, who was not imposed by political leaders from other zones.
It’s not that Governor Oborevwori has underperformed—he’s proven capable in office—but the process that led to his emergence exposed Urhobo’s deep fractures and lack of political preparedness. Instead of leveraging this governorship to empower Delta Central and reposition Urhobo as a power bloc, the Urhobos continue to operate like an appendage—confused, leaderless, and docile.
What’s more damning is the growing trend of Urhobo youth pledging loyalty to political figures from other ethnic groups simply because their own leaders have failed to empower or inspire them. Appointments are often secured through non-Urhobo sponsors. Political powerbrokers from Urhobo are nearly nonexistent, as at today minority ethnic groups in Delta dominate the levers of power—even within the same government led by an Urhobo man.
The result? Urhobo youth are left riding Kekes and bikes to survive, while other ethnic groups use state contracts to empower their own. Even pipeline surveillance contracts awarded by Tantita Security Services, led by Tompolo, to Urhobo contractors benefited Urhobo in theory, but in practice, left the youth with scraps. Why? Because Urhobo leaders who secured the contracts from Tompolo turned them into tools of subjugation rather than empowerment.
Instead of building institutions or businesses that uplift, many Urhobo elites invest in hotels and nightclubs—some of which serve as hubs for drug abuse that further destroy the same youth they should be empowering. While other ethnic groups unite to secure mining licenses or push for federal appointments, Urhobo leaders are tearing each other down on social media, fighting for petty gains and feeding personal egos.
The tragedy deepens when Urhobo’s political disillusionment is compared to other groups. Today, many Urhobo youth express more loyalty to Tompolo—a man from another ethnic nation—than to their own governor. It’s not hard to see why. Tompolo, though not perfect, has empowered youths across the Niger Delta, while Urhobo leaders continue to enslave theirs.
This must stop. The Urhobo Nation cannot continue on this self-destructive path. It is high time its leaders rise above personal greed, break the cycle of internal sabotage, and rally the people around a coherent socio-political vision. Urhobo must stop being the proverbial giant with leprous hands. Power, when held without purpose, becomes a curse rather than a blessing.
Let this be a call to reflection. Urhobo must reinvent itself or risk becoming irrelevant. It’s time to act—not just for 2027, but for the very soul of the Urhobo Nation.
Ovasa Ogaga, A Journalist and a Public Affairs Analyst, writes from Ughelli, Delta State
