By Danjuma Lamido
Omoyele Sowore has, over the years, positioned himself as Nigeria’s most consistent agitator, a man who thrives on chaos, fuels outrage, and rarely offers concrete solutions.
From the days of Sahara Reporters to his presidential ambitions and endless protests, Sowore has mastered the art of disruption. But at some point, one must ask: Is this activism or a career in perpetual provocation?
In the ever-evolving drama of Nigerian activism and statecraft, it seems Omoyele Sowore has finally met his match, not in a fellow protester or a courtroom judge, but in a career police officer whose calm steel and disciplined ascent have unnerved the chaos merchant himself: Inspector General of Police Kayode Egbetokun.
Sowore thrives on spectacle. From his #RevolutionNow theatrics to the performative outrage on social media, he has built a persona around constant rebellion, sometimes justified, often reckless.
But what happens when rebellion meets restraint? When does noise meet quiet competence? When publicity stunts are neutralised not with brutality, but with professionalism? You get Sowore’s latest obsession: the police reforms and quiet overhaul happening under IGP Egbetokun.
In recent weeks, Sowore has attempted to capitalise on the wave of police promotions and internal reforms to claim some form of moral or political victory. He has suggested, either directly or through his media surrogates, that the Nigeria Police Force only sprang into action after his protest. That narrative is as false as it is desperate.
The truth is that the recent promotions and strategic changes within the police are not reactions to street drama. They are part of a comprehensive vision spearheaded by IGP Egbetokun, someone who, unlike Sowore, does not need to wave placards to get results.
This IGP is not driven by ideology or populism but by service, professionalism, and a deep understanding of the institution he leads.
And that’s what unsettles Sowore. For once, he’s dealing with a system that refuses to play the villain in his predictable script.
There’s no tear gas for the camera. No high-profile arrest to martyr him. No violent pushback to exploit. Egbetokun simply goes about his duty, building structures, rewarding merit, and quietly fixing a broken system. That, more than any baton or bullet, is Sowore’s true nightmare.
Here lies the irony: while Sowore screams about police brutality from the sidelines, Egbetokun is the one leading the most reform-minded leadership the force has seen in years.
Promotions have been based on performance, not patronage. Accountability is being instilled without media fanfare. The rank-and-file are beginning to feel seen, and so is the public. That’s progress.
Sowore’s style is built on the assumption that nothing ever changes unless he makes noise. But Nigeria is evolving in subtle, sometimes unseen ways, and men like Egbetokun are the ones doing the heavy lifting. No sirens, no hashtags, just results.
So yes, Sowore may continue his campaign of misinformation, clinging to relevance in a country that’s slowly moving past his brand of drama.
But in the quiet corridors of police reform, where real change happens, the name that echoes isn’t his. It’s Egbetokun. And that, perhaps, is why the activist can’t sleep easily anymore.
Sowore’s constant criticism of every administration, every institution, and practically every public figure begs a serious question: what exactly does he want, and what has he built outside of noise-making?
Nigeria is undoubtedly burdened with problems, corruption, insecurity, and unemployment, but rather than collaborate, propose policy frameworks, or build grassroots capacity, Sowore seems content with theatrics and unending protests that lead nowhere. This is not patriotism; it is performance.
Activism should not be an escape from responsibility. We live in a country where young people are desperate for work, innovation, and leadership that produces results, not hashtags.
Sowore has constituted a nuisance to his generation; his family members now spite on his face. He is popularly called “Omoale Sowore” by the majority of the youths in his state, Ondo State.
If Sowore believes he has better ideas, let him found a company, build an NGO that actually delivers services, or return to journalism with a fresh lens. Let him show, not just shout.
Some may argue that his role is to hold the government accountable. Fair enough. But even watchdogs must evolve. Constantly calling everyone a sellout, fascist, or tyrant without offering practical alternatives is not activism; it is a tantrum.
In a world driven by innovation, strategy, and results, shouting from the sidelines without building anything of substance is no longer noble.
So here is the challenge: Sowore, go and get a job. Not a press job, not a protest gig. A real one. Build something. Employ people. Draft policies. Make laws. Run a think tank. Show us that you can do more than disrupt. Nigeria has had enough noise; we need nation builders.
History does not remember those who only complained. It remembers those who created it.
Danjuma Lamido is a public affairs analyst and writes from Kebbi.
