Theatrics
Mudashiru Obasa reinstated as Lagos Assembly Speaker after Mojisola Meranda's resignation.
Mudashiru Obasa, the ousted Speaker of the Lagos State House of Assembly, briefly took over the office of the current Speaker, Mojisola Meranda, sparking widespread confusion. Obasa’s security details were restored. However, Meranda’s were withdrawn, only to be restored later. Obasa claims he’s still the Speaker despite being removed on 13 January by a two-thirds majority of lawmakers over allegations of financial misappropriation. The lawmakers reaffirmed their support for Meranda. However, in the latest developments, Mojisola Meranda resigned from her position and Obasa was reinstated as Speaker. Obasa was nominated by lawmaker Noheem Adams and expressed gratitude to the All Progressives Congress leaders, lawmakers, and Meranda for their support.
The unfolding drama at the Lagos State House of Assembly, which saw the brief ouster and subsequent reinstatement of Mudashiru Obasa as Speaker, is not just a power struggle; it is a glaring testament to the erosion of legislative independence in Nigeria’s democracy and a precursor to the bitter infighting that the APC in Lagos is likely to devolve to once Bola Tinubu is no longer on the scene. While much has been made about the influence of the shadowy Governor Advisory Council (GAC) consisting of senior APC leaders constituted by Tinubu, it is clear that the body has lost whatever power it had before Tinubu gained federal executive power as president.
The sequence of events—Obasa’s forced removal by a two-thirds majority, his defiant claim to the speakership, the withdrawal and restoration of security details, and Mojisola Meranda’s resignation—exposes the extent of political manipulation within Lagos politics. At the heart of this chaos lies the overwhelming influence of the ruling party - All Progressives Congress (APC), and, by extension, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s political machinery. The Lagos State House of Assembly has long been under the grip of party loyalists, leaving little room for genuine legislative independence.
The chatter that Tinubu backed Obasa’s return is hardly surprising. If true, it reinforces the idea that Lagos, rather than being governed through democratic consensus, is effectively run by an entrenched political hierarchy that prioritises loyalty over constitutional processes. Reinstating a Speaker whose colleagues had overwhelmingly rejected portrays that the lawmakers’ views are secondary to the dictates of the party establishment. The fact that security forces were involved in this debacle suggests that the Lagos Assembly is politically weak and physically vulnerable to external interference.
This also exposes the ideological bankruptcy of Nigeria’s political parties. In any functional democracy, removing a Speaker based on allegations of financial misappropriation and highhandedness would signal accountability. Instead, in Lagos, party leaders have forced an unwanted Speaker on lawmakers, dismissing governance concerns in favour of political expediency. The consequences of this fiasco extend beyond the Assembly chambers.
First, Obasa’s return will likely be marred by a legitimacy crisis. Lawmakers who voted him out will struggle to recognise his authority, potentially leading to legislative gridlock. Instead of being a forum for governance, the Assembly may become a battleground of factional politicking, stalling crucial legislative duties.
Another implication is that democracy in Lagos has been fundamentally weakened. If lawmakers cannot determine their own leadership without interference, governance has taken a backseat to political survival. With 2027 on the horizon, legislative focus will shift away from policymaking to securing political alignments, meaning governance in Lagos will be on autopilot for the foreseeable future.
This crisis underscores a broader Nigerian problem—the absence of independent democratic institutions. Beyond the political and institutional failings in the Lagos State House of Assembly crisis, there is a crucial gender dimension that cannot be ignored. As the first female Speaker in Lagos Assembly history, Mojisola Meranda’s swift ousting raises a critical question: Would the power struggle have played out the same way if a man had replaced Obasa?
The answer is worth serious consideration. It underscores how women in leadership positions are often treated as placeholders rather than legitimate power holders. If democracy in Lagos is threatened, gender inclusion in its politics is also on life support. Ultimately, what has played out in Lagos is not just a battle for power but a warning sign of the deep flaws in Nigeria’s democratic experiment. If constitutional provisions can be disregarded at will and the will of lawmakers is trampled upon, then the question must be asked: Is there any democracy left to defend?

