Public Words: Using Umahi’s Arise TV Moment as Therapy for Leadership Growth In Africa -By Professor John Egbeazien Oshodi

A reflection on how one televised exchange became a case study in Leadership maturity for public service in Africa         

When Public Dialogue Becomes a Mirror for the Mind

The Lagos–Calabar Coastal Highway debate offered Nigeria an unexpected lesson—not in civil engineering, but in emotional engineering. When Minister of Works David Umahi appeared on Arise TV, what should have been a discussion about infrastructure became a revealing session in public psychology.

The moment now stands as a model for what could be called Therapy in Leadership Behavior—a reflective framework that every public official, from the council ward to the presidency, urgently needs. It is not far-fetched to imagine a national retreat titled “Composure and Clarity in Public Discourse: The Umahi Experience.” Not as a public rebuke, but as a therapeutic case study for leadership growth.

President Bola Ahmed Tinubu and his Chief of Staff, Femi Gbajabiamila, should treat such moments not as mere embarrassment but as opportunities for reform. The growing pattern of ministers publicly embarrassing the administration through emotional outbursts and poor communication points to a deeper crisis of behavioral discipline. What Nigeria needs is not just policy retreats, but psychological reorientation—therapy in leadership behavior that restores dignity, composure, and empathy in governance.

Leadership is never just about intellect; it is about temperament. The way leaders handle tension tells a deeper story than any policy statement. Every outburst by a public figure models behavior for others, setting the emotional temperature of the institutions they lead.

If leadership is, in part, a form of therapy for a nation’s collective behavior, then this moment must serve as a treatment exercise for every tier of governance—from council ward to the presidency. It challenges those in power to see communication not as performance, but as emotional responsibility.

Managing Questions Without Losing Composure

The Arise TV interview began as a simple public dialogue. Journalist Rufai Oseni, known for his calm but probing manner, asked a fair civic question: What is the cost per kilometre of the Lagos–Calabar Coastal Highway? It was a straightforward request for clarity—nothing more than what any responsible taxpayer or journalist should ask.

But instead of composure, the nation witnessed confrontation. Minister David Umahi bristled, instructing the journalist to “keep quiet” and dismissing the question as ignorant. His tone hardened; his words carried irritation rather than explanation. “I’m a professor in this field,” he said, as though authority could replace accountability.

In psychological terms, this was not a communication breakdown—it was a moment of ego threat, a reflexive defense triggered by perceived challenge. When individuals in power experience even mild questioning as personal attack, defensiveness replaces dialogue, and emotional fragility masquerades as confidence.

President Tinubu’s administration must pay attention to such public episodes. They do not merely expose the temperament of one man; they reflect the emotional climate within the executive. A government can lose moral authority not only through corruption or policy failure, but through the daily erosion of dignity in public speech. Each televised display of anger or arrogance chips away at public trust.

This is why the President and his Chief of Staff must begin to institutionalize Therapy in Leadership Behavior—a structured process that helps ministers and aides manage pressure, ego, and public communication. Emotional intelligence training should no longer be seen as soft skill, but as statecraft.

Defensiveness is human, but composure is professional. Leadership maturity is shown not in how quickly one responds to criticism, but in how calmly one absorbs it. In public service, emotional control is not courtesy—it is competence.

Turning Criticism Into Clarity: The Makinde Example

In the midst of the noise and irritation surrounding the Lagos–Calabar Highway debate, Oyo State Governor Seyi Makinde’s response emerged as a masterclass in calm communication and emotional intelligence. Where others reacted with defensiveness, he offered data, context, and composure.

Makinde, himself a trained Electrical Engineer, addressed the controversy not with insults or credentials but with information. Speaking in clear and measured tones, he explained how the public could easily understand project costs through simple averages: the cost of one road, the cost of another, and what those figures revealed about transparency. He gave tangible examples—Oyo to Iseyin Road, Iseyin to Ogbomoso Road—complete with their distances, total expenditures, and average cost per kilometre.

What Makinde demonstrated was not merely technical knowledge but psychological steadiness. He showed that it is possible to be firm without being hostile, authoritative without being condescending. His calmness under pressure functioned as an emotional antidote to the agitation that had dominated the national conversation.

From a psychological perspective, Makinde exhibited what is known as cognitive regulation—the ability to translate emotion into structured reasoning. Rather than internalizing criticism or externalizing anger, he transformed tension into teaching. His composure modeled leadership maturity: the ability to elevate discourse instead of escalating conflict.

This is precisely the kind of emotional posture President Tinubu’s administration must learn to cultivate within its team. Leadership is not simply about control over resources; it is also about control over reactions. If a governor can explain costs with patience, then a federal minister, backed by larger resources and greater exposure, should do even better.

Makinde’s calm is not weakness—it is strategic equilibrium. It communicates confidence, intelligence, and restraint, all of which build trust in governance. By contrast, public anger and verbal aggression may satisfy pride but always weaken perception. The real show of strength in leadership is not how loudly one speaks, but how steadily one thinks.

In societies striving for democratic maturity, this distinction matters. Citizens judge not only the content of a government’s words but the tone that delivers them. The future of governance in Africa will depend increasingly on emotional discipline—how leaders handle opposition, manage questioning, and turn pressure into clarity.

Makinde’s example should now form part of Nigeria’s Leadership Therapy Framework—a living lesson on how confidence can coexist with courtesy. The Tinubu administration, from cabinet ministers to state commissioners, should study this approach closely. Calmness, after all, is not passive—it is persuasive.

Titles, Insecurity, and the Weight of Self-Image

When the Arise TV interview reached its most uncomfortable moment, journalist Rufai Oseni asked a question that pierced through the Minister’s defensive wall: “Which university are you a professor in?”

It was an ordinary question, but one loaded with psychological weight. In that instant, the air shifted. Umahi’s composure wavered, and what followed was a glimpse into the deep insecurity that often hides behind official confidence. The Minister clarified that he was “a professor in practice,” not one appointed by any academic institution.

That phrase—though perhaps meant to emphasize experience—revealed more than it concealed. It exposed a pattern familiar across much of African public life: the addiction to titles as armor. In a culture where status is often confused with substance, many public figures use designations to assert superiority rather than to inspire respect.

From a psychological perspective, this is a form of ego compensation—an attempt to protect self-image through external symbols. The higher the title, the thicker the armor; yet, ironically, the more fragile the self behind it often becomes. When identity depends too heavily on being seen as “Professor,” “Excellency,” or “Honourable,” even a simple question can feel like an attack on one’s existence.

This is why so many leaders react with defensiveness instead of dialogue. The question is never really about the subject—it is about the self. And the self, when overinflated, becomes fragile under the slightest pressure.

True leadership does not rely on titles; it rests on temperament. The credibility of a public servant is not proven by the number of degrees, awards, or honorifics attached to the name, but by the emotional steadiness shown when confronted with scrutiny. Calm is the ultimate credential.

The “professor in practice” retreat revealed that Umahi’s confidence was not grounded in transparency but in self-assertion. He reached for identity instead of evidence. This is a common error in governance: mistaking the performance of expertise for the practice of professionalism.

African leadership must now evolve beyond this dependency on status symbols. A nation cannot move forward when its officials spend more time defending personal image than delivering public service. Leaders must learn that humility is not a demotion—it is a stabilizer.

President Tinubu and his Chief of Staff must begin embedding this realization into Nigeria’s Therapy in Leadership Behavior initiative. Training ministers, advisers, and state executives to manage ego-driven reactions will strengthen not just communication, but public confidence. When leaders learn to separate who they are from the titles they hold, governance finally begins to mature.

In the end, no title can substitute for composure. It is not the name before the position that commands respect—it is the conduct within it.

Faith and the Psychology of Temperament

As a pastor and a self-declared prophet, David Umahi carries not just political authority but moral symbolism. In April 2024, he publicly proclaimed himself a prophet, stating that God had revealed to him that President Bola Tinubu would govern Nigeria for eight years. Such a declaration places him not only within the sphere of governance but in the sacred realm of spiritual influence.

Yet, the same man who called himself a prophet and pastor lost composure on national television, telling journalist Rufai Oseni to “keep quiet” and dismissing him as “not knowing anything.” He further diminished Governor Seyi Makinde, an accomplished engineer and elected state leader, by calling him an “electrician” and his “junior.”

From both theological and psychological standpoints, the contradiction is striking. A pastor’s calling carries an expectation of patience, restraint, and empathy—the quiet strength that humanizes leadership. A prophet’s voice is meant to instruct, not insult; to lift, not lower. When a man of faith who holds public office speaks with contempt rather than calm, he does not merely fail the test of temperament—he fractures the very witness of his faith.

The episode on Arise TV thus became a paradox of moral leadership: when the pulpit and the podium no longer speak the same language. The pastor’s heart must guide the public servant’s mouth, but here the reverse occurred. Umahi’s reaction revealed a deeper emotional split—the clash between spiritual profession and psychological expression.

In psychology, such behavior reflects cognitive dissonance—the tension that arises when a person’s beliefs and behaviors stand in contradiction. The louder the claim of righteousness, the more visible the fracture becomes when humility disappears. Faith, when filtered through ego, loses its moral power.

Scripture reminds us that “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall” (Proverbs 16:18). That verse is not only a moral warning—it is a psychological law. Pride distorts perception, narrows empathy, and turns dialogue into domination. When a leader cannot handle a question without anger, it is not intellect that fails—it is emotional regulation.

How can a man who calls himself a pastor and prophet respond with humiliation instead of explanation—with ridicule instead of reflection? The same mouth that declares divine foresight should not belittle those performing civic duty. When revelation coexists with ridicule, faith loses its witness and leadership loses its moral gravity.

Leadership inspired by faith should bring light, not heat. A truly pastoral politician guides through calm explanation, not verbal confrontation. The measure of prophetic insight is not in predicting tenure but in embodying truth, empathy, and composure in public life.

Oga pastor, minister, and self-styled prophet—perhaps it is time to seek forgiveness: from God, for the misuse of temperament; from the public, for the misuse of platform; and from the two men you maligned, for the misuse of speech.

For in the psychology of moral leadership, the truest prophecy is not prediction but poise.

Emotional Regulation as a Leadership Skill

Governor Seyi Makinde’s calm response to the entire Lagos–Calabar Coastal Highway controversy became a quiet lesson in leadership maturity. While others raised their voices or invoked titles, he chose the steadiness of facts, tone, and reason. In that single gesture, he turned political tension into a masterclass in emotional regulation.

Makinde’s approach reflected the discipline psychologists call affective control—the ability to manage emotional impulses without losing clarity. He could have matched irritation with irritation or returned insult for insult, but he understood something fundamental: that anger in leadership always travels faster than thought, and once released, it cannot be recalled.

In speaking calmly, Makinde did more than defend his position; he modeled composure as a leadership policy. He explained road costs with transparency and offered data with dignity, showing that clarity—not condescension—is the true mark of authority. His demeanor reminded the nation that composure communicates confidence more effectively than credentials ever could.

In African political culture, where authority is often equated with dominance and volume, Makinde’s restraint was revolutionary. His silence at key moments was not weakness; it was strategic maturity—a sign of internal security. Leaders who remain calm under pressure send a powerful signal to citizens and subordinates alike: that governance is not theater, and true confidence needs no microphone.

Emotional regulation in leadership is not just a personal virtue—it is a public responsibility. Every display of restraint by a leader lowers the national temperature; every outburst raises it. The emotional habits of those in power ripple through institutions, influencing how citizens argue, debate, and even dream. A leader’s calm is a form of national therapy.

President Tinubu and his Chief of Staff, Femi Gbajabiamila, should take careful note of this contrast. If one governor, managing fewer resources, can demonstrate composure and communicative discipline, then ministers and presidential aides with national platforms must learn to do the same. Authority without emotional maturity becomes instability on display.

Leadership training in Nigeria must therefore evolve. Beyond workshops on fiscal management or policy execution, there must now be sessions focused on Therapy in Leadership Behavior—practical lessons in listening, patience, empathy, and communication under stress. The capacity to regulate emotion is not psychological luxury; it is political necessity.

A nation’s stability begins where its leaders’ tempers end.

Healing the Emotional Culture of Power

He is not the only one. The Arise TV episode was not merely about one man’s loss of composure; it was a window into a larger psychological illness afflicting Nigeria’s leadership class. Across the political spectrum—from the State House to the Senate chambers, from ministerial offices to state assemblies—emotional regulation has become the rarest form of discipline.

Too often, disagreement is mistaken for disrespect. Criticism is met with anger. And power, rather than being exercised with calm assurance, is performed as intimidation. In a country as complex and diverse as Nigeria, where social tension is already high, every display of temper at the top sets off smaller storms below.

This is not a moral accusation—it is a clinical observation. A nation that trains its leaders to manage budgets but not emotions, to recite data but not regulate anger, will always struggle with institutional instability. Nigeria’s crisis is not only administrative; it is affective. Our governance culture suffers from unprocessed emotion, unresolved ego, and a deep-seated fear of public accountability.

To heal this, leadership in Nigeria must embrace a new paradigm: Therapy in Leadership Behavior. This is not a metaphor; it is a developmental necessity. Leaders, like all human beings, need structured spaces for reflection, self-evaluation, and emotional recalibration. Therapy in leadership is not about mental illness—it is about mental readiness. It is a science of balance that helps those in power stay composed, self-aware, and communicatively mature.

President Bola Ahmed Tinubu and his Chief of Staff, Femi Gbajabiamila, must urgently make this part of the national leadership reform agenda. They have the opportunity—and the responsibility—to turn public embarrassment into institutional transformation. If ministers, aides, and lawmakers can attend fiscal retreats and policy summits, they can also attend Therapeutic Leadership Retreats designed to teach calm under scrutiny, empathy in speech, and self-control under stress.

Such an initiative could begin under a program titled “Composure and Clarity in Public Discourse: The Umahi Experience.” It would not be punishment, but education—a chance for national figures to learn that emotional stability is as essential to governance as economic strategy.

The Nigerian Psychological Association, under the leadership of its President-elect, Dr. Abubakar M. Tafida of the Department of Psychology, Nasarawa State University, is uniquely positioned to help guide this transformation. Nigeria’s psychologists can design evidence-based training in communication discipline, empathy, and emotional intelligence for ministers, governors, and legislators.

Governments that invest in emotional literacy invest in national stability. Therapy in leadership behavior is not indulgence—it is infrastructure.

The therapy Nigeria needs is not only medical—it is moral, mental, and managerial.

The Inner Highway: Rebuilding the Path Between Power and Conscience

The Lagos–Calabar Coastal Highway, though conceived as an engineering marvel, has become something deeper—a mirror held up to the conscience of leadership. It is no longer just a road project; it is a psychological symbol of how Nigeria builds.

We pour concrete across land, yet the moral foundations beneath power remain cracked. We measure kilometres, but not character. We celebrate speed of construction, yet ignore the slow collapse of emotional discipline. What use is a smooth expressway when those steering the nation’s destiny drive with arrogance, anger, and ego?

The truth is that Nigeria’s greatest construction project is not physical—it is psychological. The real road that must be rebuilt is the one between power and conscience, between intellect and empathy, between authority and humility.

When Minister David Umahi turned a technical question into a personal confrontation, the public saw more than irritation; they saw what happens when leadership loses its emotional center. And when Governor Seyi Makinde responded with calm reasoning, Nigerians glimpsed the possibility of what leadership could become—a bridge between competence and composure.

If the Lagos–Calabar Highway represents progress in stone and steel, then the nation must begin constructing its emotional counterpart: a National Highway of Conduct built on restraint, empathy, and accountability. This is the moral infrastructure that determines whether physical development becomes sustainable or merely cosmetic.

A country can survive the delays of construction, but not the decay of conscience. Without humility, even progress feels oppressive. Without empathy, even success alienates.

This is why the call for Therapy in Leadership Behavior must not stop at cabinet retreats—it must enter the bloodstream of governance. Every ministry, assembly, and local council should institutionalize emotional and ethical training as part of public service development. The inner discipline of leaders will determine the outer direction of the nation.

In truth, the Lagos–Calabar Highway is not the only road under construction. Nigeria itself is. And unless its leaders learn to pave the road between power and conscience, the nation will continue to move—but never arrive.

Final Reflection: Therapy for a Nation’s Temperament

Using Umahi as a mirror is not about shaming one man; it is about diagnosing a collective imbalance that has long shaped public life in Nigeria and across Africa. His moment of temper simply revealed, in plain sight, a deeper leadership disorder—the tendency to confuse confidence with combat, inquiry with insult, and responsibility with self-importance.

Every public office is a stage for emotional modeling. The way a minister answers a journalist, or a senator reacts to opposition, becomes an unspoken lesson in civic behavior. Citizens watch and learn not only from policy, but from posture. When those in authority regulate their emotions, the entire social climate begins to stabilize. Emotional steadiness in leadership creates moral oxygen for a nation struggling to breathe.

Leadership, at its highest form, is not domination—it is emotional stewardship. The ability to hold one’s power with calm, to face disagreement without humiliation, and to see questions as collaboration rather than confrontation, is the true test of maturity in governance.

The therapy Nigeria requires must therefore begin not in hospitals, but in the halls of power—within ministries, assemblies, and executive offices—where the most urgent ailments are pride, impatience, and the fear of accountability. Leadership therapy is not about weakness; it is about wisdom. It is the science of self-regulation applied to the psychology of authority.

If a leader cannot manage his own emotions, how can he manage a nation’s frustrations? If power cannot tolerate questioning, then it has already become brittle. Emotional maturity is the hidden infrastructure of every functioning democracy.

Only when our leaders begin to heal inwardly—by replacing ego with empathy, and defensiveness with dialogue—can Nigeria and Africa close the widening gap between brilliance and behavior, between vision and virtue, between the promise of power and the practice of leadership.

About the Author

Prof. John Egbeazien Oshodi is an American psychologist and educator specializing in forensic, legal, clinical, cross-cultural psychology, police, and prison science.

Born in Uromi, Edo State, Nigeria, and son of a 37-year veteran of the Nigeria Police Force, he has dedicated his career to linking psychology with justice, education, and governance. In 2011, he introduced advanced forensic psychology to Nigeria through the National Universities Commission and Nasarawa State University, where he served as Associate Professor of Psychology.

He is currently contributing faculty in the Doctorate in Clinical and School Psychology at Nova Southeastern University; PhD Clinical Psychology, BS Psychology, and BS Tempo Criminal Justice programs at Walden University; Professor of Leadership Studies/Management and Social Sciences (Virtual Faculty) at ISCOM University, Benin Republic; and virtual faculty at Weldios University. He also serves as President and Chief Psychologist at the Oshodi Foundation, Center for Psychological and Forensic Services, United States.

Prof. Oshodi is a Black Republican with interests in individual responsibility, community self-reliance, and institutional democracy. He is the founder of Psychoafricalysis (Psychoafricalytic Psychology), a culturally grounded framework centering African sociocultural realities, historical memory, and future-oriented identity. He has authored over 500 articles, multiple books, and numerous peer-reviewed journal articles spanning Africentric psychological theory, higher education reform, forensic and correctional psychology, African democracy, and decolonized therapeutic models.