Ambassadors or Political Errand Boys? -By Oluwafemi Popoola

There is something deeply unsettling about the list of 32 ambassadorial nominees recently submitted to the Senate by Bola Ahmed Tinubu. Instead of inspiring confidence, the list reads like yet another chapter in Nigeria’s long tradition of political compensation dressed up as diplomacy. The presence of figures like Reno Omokri and Femi Fani-Kayode already raises eyebrows. This is not just because of their political baggage but because of what their selection whispers about Nigeria’s endless dance between loyalty, reward and political survival.

The real plot twist comes with the mysterious inclusion of a former INEC chairman. This is a man whose shadow still looms large over debates about electoral credibility. Why is a former election umpire being quietly ushered into the world of diplomacy? Is this a coincidence? A strategic promotion? A parting gift? Or simply a subtle nod of appreciation from the powers that be for “efforts” made during the last general election? Many Nigerians are now wondering aloud.

Tinubu’s media office announced weeks ago that the new diplomatic batch includes 15 seasoned career diplomats and 17 non-career nominees. Among the latter sit an interesting cocktail of personalities: a former INEC chairman, ex-governors, former first ladies, a few state-level veterans and of course, the ever-controversial duo, Reno Omokri and Femi Fani-Kayode.

I have always found Reno Omokri and Femi Fani-Kayode endlessly fascinating. Both men embody that rare blend of brilliance and contradiction that keeps them firmly in the public spotlight. They are richly educated, fierce debaters, and confident public speakers. Even when their moral compass wobbles, I cannot deny their intellectual presence. Their eloquence alone can command a room. Fani-Kayode, especially, wields language like a warrior brandishing his favourite sword. Precise. Dramatic. Lethal. Politicians keep men like him close not out of affection but because his words can slice through an opponent’s argument with surgical ease.

Reno, meanwhile, is an intellectual salesman. He is clever and persuasive. He knows how to dress an idea with statistics, questionable, or completely stretched and make it look irresistible. He knows how to sell symbolism, whether it is “Buy Nigerian,” “Eat Nigerian,” or “Support Nigerian.”

Love them or roll your eyes at them, one thing is clear: these men know how to talk. Even when everything else around them shifts, their tongues remain their superpower.

But eloquence is not diplomacy. This latest ambassadorial list makes that painfully clear. Nothing about the list feels diplomatic. What we saw were political jobbers elevated for loyalty. From the loudest voices on social media to even a former INEC chairman
whose nomination drips with unsettling political undertones. Add to that figures like Reno and FFK, celebrated more for theatrics than statecraft, and you have a list that reads like compensation for political errands. These are individuals who, with Machiavellian ease, can switch narratives overnight and still keep a straight face. It is the familiar chorus of Nigeria’s ruling elite and this list simply turns up the volume.

For Reno Omokri and Femi Fani-Kayode, their names alone carry enough history, contradiction, controversy, brilliance, and drama to make a Nollywood drama. Ever since the announcement, Nigerians have been uploading the infamous 2023 Mic On Podcast video of Reno Omokri swearing before Seun Okinbaloye that he would never work with Tinubu. Not in this life. Not under heaven. He even invoked the word “principles,” claiming it was against his DNA to support a man he had called a “drug baron,” a corrupt leader, and the destroyer of Nigeria.

Today, he joyfully accepts an ambassadorial nomination from the same man he demonised. The U-turn is Olympic-grade. But the real spectacle isn’t Reno, it’s the cheering crowd. Many of the president’s social media warriors suddenly see nothing wrong with this spiritual somersault. It echoes Chinua Achebe’s timeless observation that “When suffering knocks at your door and you say there is no seat for him, he tells you not to worry because he has brought his own stool.” In today’s Nigeria, political convenience always brings its stool.

Reno himself reacted to the nomination with lyrical praise, thanking God, thanking Tinubu, and declaring that the president had taught him “the meaning of forgiveness.” He went further to say Tinubu is “Christlike,” the right man for the right time, deserving of all loyalty from Nigerians. To anyone who has watched Reno’s political journey, from solo protests against Tinubu in London, to calling him a drug baron, to suddenly defending him daily on social media. This metamorphosis is both dramatic and Shakespearean.

But if Reno’s story reads like a drama, Fani-Kayode’s reads like a tempest. Nigeria has entered freestyle mode indeed. FFK remains one of the most controversial figures of the Fourth Republic. His contradictions are legendary. He can attack a government in the morning, denounce its leaders by noon, and endorse them by nightfall. His ongoing EFCC cases involving billions in alleged money laundering remain unresolved. His tenure as Aviation Minister is remembered more for financial irregularities than reform. His political outbursts have embarrassed journalists, destabilised party structures, and inflamed public tensions. Obasanjo once mocked him openly, saying FFK only attacked him in newspapers because he wanted a job. Then he proved his point by giving him one. “Take and shut up,” Baba said without saying.

And this is who we are sending out to represent Nigeria?

Diplomacy is not entertainment. It is not Twitter engagement. It is not courtroom drama. It is the quiet art of representing a nation with dignity.

When nations appoint ambassadors, they choose people whose character reflects national dignity. Senegal once sent Cheikh Tidiane Gadio—a scholar respected across Africa. Ghana sent Kofi Awoonor, a poet, thinker, and statesman. The United States appointed Ralph Bunche, a Nobel laureate known for peace diplomacy. Even within Nigeria, our past ambassadors include older icons like Olujimi Jolaoso, who helped stabilise Nigeria’s image in Washington; Professor Ibrahim Gambari, whose diplomatic finesse was praised by Kofi Annan; and Joe Keshi, whose tenure remains a benchmark for professionalism. These were people whose reputations elevated Nigeria. They did not drag it.

So, what exactly is diplomatic about Reno Omokri or Fani-Kayode? How do we justify sending men who have spent years spewing verbal napalm across the political landscape as our official faces abroad? Diplomacy requires restraint, emotional intelligence, cultural sensitivity, the ability to de-escalate tensions, not men whose entire political careers have thrived on escalation. As Ali Mazrui, the great African scholar, once said, “The problem with African politics is not the absence of skilled talkers but the scarcity of wise listeners.” Reno and FFK talk plenty. But wisdom? Restraint? Consistency? That is another matter.

It is true that people change. It is true that forgiveness and reconciliation are noble. But a diplomat should not serve merely as a political reward, a diplomat is a national symbol. When we send ambassadors, we send our moral fabric. We send our voice, our dignity, our identity. And so I ask, without malice but with sincerity: do these two men represent the best of us?

Nigeria deserves ambassadors who can stand before the world with clean hands, steady minds, and stable convictions. People who won’t praise today what they condemned yesterday simply because the winds of opportunity changed direction.

Unless we rise above this culture of transactional politics, we will keep sending our worst to represent our best. And the world will judge us accordingly.

Oluwafemi Popoola is a Nigerian journalist, media strategist, and columnist. He can be reached via bromeo2013@gmail.com