By Amah
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In a country where political appointment has long ceased to be a function of competence and has instead become a mockery and ceremonial handshake for whoever can shout “Yes Sir!” the loudest, the nomination of Reno Omokri as ambassador by President Bola Ahmed Tinubu should surprise no one. If Nigeria were a monarchy, Reno might have been named “Court Jester-in-Chief,” complete with a golden cap, embroidered agbada of servitude, and a staff bearing the portrait of whichever president happens to be distributing favours that year. But since we supposedly run a republic, the man has been handed a diplomatic post, that glittering exile where political rewards are wrapped in the language of national interest.
To be fair, Reno’s elevation is not so much an appointment as it is the natural flowering of a seed he has watered with the sweat of his brow and the elasticity of his kneecaps. For months, he has knelt, bowed, genuflected, somersaulted, and pirouetted in praise of Tinubu, an acrobatic display unmatched even in Nollywood’s spiritual warfare movies. Nigerians watched, often in awe, as Reno transformed himself from Goodluck Jonathan’s combative spokesperson to Tinubu’s freelance evangelist, a kind of nomadic apostle wandering across timelines, preaching the gospel according to BAT, and converting reluctant souls with the zeal of a man who knows precisely the size and colour of reward he is aiming for.
We must admit: Reno worked hard for this thing. He did not merely support Tinubu; he sang for him. He danced for him. He polished the man’s political shoes until they shone with the blinding glare of Google Chrome. He composed daily hymns capped with the immortal chorus: “Look at what Tinubu has done! Look at it! Look again!” And when Nigerians refused to look, he shook their heads for them, insisting that they must see the greatness he alone could perceive through the holy binoculars of patronage.
And then, like a man told “Your visa is ready,” he intensified the hustle. Every day, a new sermon. Every night, a fresh chorus. Every controversy around Tinubu became an opportunity to demonstrate extreme loyalty. His devotion was so complete, so absolute, that many wondered whether he had sneaked into the Presidential Villa at night to lay prostrate at the gate, whispering sweet political lullabies to the moon.
Even sycophancy, however, is not enough to earn one an ambassadorial nomination in Nigeria. No, you must have a second skill, a complementary talent, something that completes the circle of political usefulness. In Reno’s case, that skill is attack, performed with the enthusiasm of a man trying to win a Guinness World Record for Most Repeated Insults Directed at One Individual in a Calendar Year.
And the single target upon whom he lavished this energy? Mr. Peter Gregory Obi. The man who, without contest, occupies the largest space in Reno Omokri’s daily schedule. If Reno had a diary, it would likely contain entries such as:
“Monday: Attack Obi. Tuesday: Compare Obi unfavourably to Tinubu. Wednesday: Preach Tinubu as Nigeria’s geopolitical messiah. Thursday: Attack Obi again, this time with a biblical reference. Friday: Produce an economic thesis showing Tinubu’s brilliance and Obi’s naïveté. Weekend: Rest, by attacking Obi.”
Reno’s fixation on Obi became so intense that Nigerians began to suspect the matter had gone beyond politics and entered the realm of spiritual warfare. How else do you explain a man composing forty-thread treatises at 3 a.m. arguing that Peter Obi is responsible for everything from global inflation to rain refusing to fall in California? Some said Reno was obsessed. Others insisted he was merely committed. Still others, more cynical, suggested he was hoping the president would one day scroll through his timeline, pause, smile, and say, “Ah-ah! This man is working harder than my ministers. Give him something.”
Whether Tinubu ever smiled at Reno’s efforts we cannot say. But that Reno’s sweat did not fall to the ground is now obvious. His nomination as ambassador is the long-awaited confirmation that in Nigeria, loyalty, especially the loud, sweeping, unquestioning variety, is a currency stronger than skill, experience, or patriotism. Reno’s bank account has finally cleared.
Now, let us pause and acknowledge something important: Reno Omokri is not new to controversy. Indeed, controversy follows him the way a devoted pet follows its owner. Over the years, his career has been an ever-turning carousel of accusations, rebuttals, counter-claims, and philosophical lectures. There were the public quarrels with activists, the Twitter brawls, the dramatic theological debates, the accusations of attention-seeking, and the occasional self-recorded videos delivered with the intensity of an Old Testament prophet addressing an audience of one.
He has built a brand around these controversies, and like all good brand managers, he wears them with pride. Reno is the kind of man who can trend for the entire day by saying “Good morning”, and still find a way to turn the resulting outrage into a monetised sermon or a downloadable booklet.
But in all his years of contradiction, conflict, and digital evangelism, nothing prepared Nigerians for the sheer devotion he poured into the Tinubu campaign. This was not mere support; it was an artistic performance. A man reciting Shakespeare in the market square. A minstrel singing ballads in the king’s court. A long-distance runner chasing the Olympic torch of political favour.
And make no mistake: the man was tireless.
If Tinubu sneezed, Reno declared it a policy signal. If Tinubu travelled, Reno interpreted it as a diplomatic triumph. If Tinubu coughed, Reno would write seventeen paragraphs, explaining why the cough is proof of robust health. If Tinubu said absolutely nothing, Reno supplied the missing speech and applauded the silence.
Nigerians did not always agree with him. In fact, more often than not, they disagreed. But he did not mind. Social media insults rolled off his back like raindrops on a well-waxed car. He would simply reply with another 600-word exposition on why his critics were angry, misguided, or under-informed. And then, for good measure, he would throw in a parable about Ethiopia, Nairobi, or some far-flung corner of the world where he claimed to have made humanitarian impact that only he could verify.
Given this professional record of omnidirectional commentary, it was only a matter of time before the administration reached out with an assignment. No president wastes such a resource. Reno is a political Swiss Army knife: a propagandist, a defender, an attack dog, a biblical quoter, a historian, a philosopher, a travel vlogger, and a motivational speaker, all wrapped into one. How could Tinubu resist? If you don’t appoint such a man, the opposition might steal him.
Thus came the nomination. That glittering moment. The crowning. The coronation of Nigeria’s most energetic political influencer. And suddenly, the puzzle pieces fell into place. The praise-singing had not been in vain. The endless attacks on Obi were not merely ideological. They were, as Nigerians say, “work wey dem send am.” Or at least, work he hoped to be sent.
Now, what does this mean for Nigeria? Does it signal that the president values loyalty over competence? Does it suggest that the foreign service has been reduced to a retirement plan for political cheerleaders? Does it confirm that our diplomatic missions are now audition stages for social media content creators?
Perhaps. Perhaps not.
But let us consider the optics. A man who spent months attacking a political opponent with the fervour of a man avenging an ancestral insult is now tasked with representing Nigeria abroad. A man who built an entire online empire around winning arguments will now have to practice diplomacy, that gentle art of smiling even when your enemy is insulting you. A man who could not go 48 hours without tweeting about Peter Obi must now navigate environments where such behaviour might cause international incidents.
Will he adjust? Possibly. Reno is nothing if not adaptable. He has reinvented himself more times than a cat has lives. In one era, he was Jonathan’s fiercest defender. In another, Buhari’s fierce critic. And now, Tinubu’s most devoted praise-singer. If diplomacy requires reinvention, Reno will deliver.
But Nigerians must do their own reflection. What manner of country are we, where political debates descend into personal crusades? Where appointments are handed out not for competence but for devotion? Where sycophancy is not only rewarded but elevated to the status of statecraft?
The answer lies in the nation’s political DNA. Nigeria is a land where loyalty is measured in decibels, not integrity. Where a politician’s value is determined not by what he knows but by whom he flatters. Where a citizen may wake up one morning and decide to transform from critic to apostle because the political weather has changed.
Reno simply mastered the art. He perfected it. And like all masters, he has now been honoured.
Still, Nigerians will watch with curiosity. Will he remain as loud abroad as he was at home? Will embassy staff be subjected to morning devotion featuring economic comparisons between Tinubu and mythical kings? Will foreign partners be handed pamphlets titled “Why Tinubu is Right: A Continental Analysis with Biblical Footnotes”?
Nobody knows. But what we can say, with confidence, is that Reno’s appointment is the most poetic reward for sycophancy Nigeria has seen in years. It is proof that in our politics, kneeling pays. Loyalty, not merit, is the legal tender.
And so, to Ambassador-Designate Reno Omokri, we say:
Congratulations. You have run the race. You have fought the good fight. You have kept the faith of political flexibility
Go forth and represent us well. Or, more realistically, represent whoever happens to be president. After all, loyalty has never been your burden, only devotion to the throne of the day.
