Since Mudashiru Obasa returned to the Speaker’s seat at the Lagos State House of Assembly, the hallowed chambers have been anything but at peace.
His reinstatement, ordered by the Lagos State High Court, which ruled his earlier impeachment unconstitutional, might have restored his title, but not his authority in full.
The once-vibrant legislative body now sits in an uneasy calm. Lawmakers have convened just three times since Obasa’s return, each session ending with an indefinite adjournment. For the public and political observers alike, the silence from the House is louder than any debate—it signals a deeper, unresolved discord.
Behind the scenes, Obasa has been working to mend fences. He has reached out to fellow lawmakers, held closed-door meetings, and sought political reconciliation. Even President Bola Tinubu had to step in, urging all parties to set aside grievances for the sake of the state. But the rift remains. The Speaker may have returned to his seat, but the loyalty that once surrounded him has thinned.
Some lawmakers, it seems, are not ready to forgive or forget. Temitope Jah Adewale, the Majority Leader during the Meranda-led era, has yet to return to plenary. Nor has Babatunde Otun, the former clerk. Their absence speaks volumes, even if their reasons remain unspoken.
Adding to the tension is Obasa’s controversial role in the run-up to the July local government elections. In his Agege 1 constituency, he allegedly tried to impose his son, Abdul-Ganiyu Obasa, as the APC’s flagbearer. Though internal resistance forced the younger Obasa to step down, he re-emerged—this time as a deputy chairmanship candidate, in what many saw as a political sleight of hand. The manoeuvre drew criticism, with accusations of imposition and backdoor dealings rattling the party’s ranks.
Within the APC, fault lines have widened. Obasa’s faction—the Mandate Movement—managed to secure only 20 per cent of local government candidates, while the rival Justice Forum swept the rest. For a man whose influence once loomed large over Lagos politics, the numbers raised uncomfortable questions about his clout.
Even in the day-to-day business of the Assembly, cracks are visible. A directive from the Speaker asking lawmakers to return vehicles purchased during Meranda’s leadership was flatly rejected. He even faced pushback when he attempted to retrieve a car from the former Clerk. The rebellion was quiet but unmistakable: cooperation was no longer guaranteed.
“Look, the situation in the House is not okay,” confided a close stakeholder who requested anonymity. “They are just trying to manage themselves because of Mr. President’s directive. But they’re not united. They’re tolerating each other until the next political cycle.”
In the hallways, staffers come and go, taking leave more freely than ever before—another sign of a system adrift. For some, the fear isn’t just about today’s chaos, but about tomorrow’s revenge. Whispers echo through the chambers: Will this disharmony cost someone their seat, as it did in 2015 when Hon. Kolawole Taiwo was edged out despite being a frontrunner for Speaker?
For now, the APC is trying to put its house in order, and the Assembly is expected to reconvene soon. Whether it will rise above its fractures remains to be seen. One thing is clear—while Speaker Obasa holds the gavel, he does not yet hold the House.
