THIS is the second or perhaps third time I’m writing about these individuals—an indication of how significant their roles have become in today’s Nigeria, where those entrusted with the duty of speaking for the masses have retreated into silence, leaving fearless voices like the Ordinary President and VDM to confront injustices on behalf of the ordinary citizen.
In a time where silence is often mistaken for peace, and suppression mistaken for order, the importance of independent voices cannot be overstated. Recently, two prominent figures known for standing with the common man, VeryDarkMan (VDM) and Ahmed Isah, popularly known as the Ordinary President, found themselves at the centre of unsettling rumours and developments. These events have sparked fear, confusion, and concern among ordinary Nigerians, many of whom have come to rely on these individuals as voices for justice and truth in a country where both often seem elusive.
VeryDarkMan, a fierce social commentator with a growing following, was reportedly arrested, though as of the time of writing, the full details of the incident remain sketchy. While his style has always been controversial and unapologetically blunt, there is no doubt that he speaks the language of frustration many Nigerians carry in their hearts. Whether he is calling out scammers, questioning the government, or simply airing his thoughts on pressing national issues, his message often resonates with a population exhausted by hardship and betrayal.
At the same time, the nation was gripped by concern over the health of Ahmed Isah, the Ordinary President and founder of Brekete Family, a radio and TV programme known for offering justice to the poor and downtrodden. Rumours initially circulated that he too had been arrested, but these were later dispelled. Instead, it was confirmed that he is seriously ill. Even so, the temporary vacuum created by his absence raised alarm bells across the country. Why? Because to many, Ahmed Isah is not just a broadcaster. He is a lifeline.
The convergence of these two events, one involving a young, fiery advocate with a digital army behind him, the other involving a seasoned humanitarian with years of proven service, sends a strong and worrying message to the Nigerian public. The message, whether intended or not, is that speaking up for the people may come at a cost. And that, in a democratic society, is not only dangerous, it is unacceptable.
It is important to state clearly: the government has the right and responsibility to maintain law and order. No one is above the law, not even those who claim to be fighting for the masses. However, there must be a visible balance between enforcing the law and stifling freedom of expression. When the voices of those who advocate for the voiceless begin to disappear, the average citizen is left with a loud silence, and silence, in this context, is not golden. It is dangerous.
The government must understand the perception being built in the public psyche. Nigerians are not blind to what is happening. Whether or not VDM’s arrest was justified, and whether or not Ahmed Isah’s health situation is politically motivated, the optics are terrible. The masses are watching, and they are worried. Many feel like a wind of suppression is blowing, slowly extinguishing the candles of advocacy that still flicker in our ever-darkening room of injustice.
It would be wise for our leaders to listen. Suppressing outspoken individuals will not silence the truth. If anything, it will multiply it. History has shown us repeatedly across countries and generations, that muzzling dissent only fertilises it. When you silence one voice, you give birth to a hundred more, each louder than the last.
The situation also calls for a serious reflection within our society about how we handle our heroes. Are we only comfortable with advocates when they say what we want to hear? Do we only support them when they’re not stepping on powerful toes? Or are we committed to the idea that advocacy is messy, noisy, uncomfortable—but necessary?
It is time for the government to take deliberate steps to protect the space for public commentary. This does not mean condoning defamation, hate speech, or incitement. But it means recognising that in a society with deep scars and gaping wounds, people will cry out. Some will cry gently. Others will scream. Some, like Ahmed Isah, will use diplomacy. Others, like VDM, will use raw, unfiltered fire. Both are valid in their own ways. Both reflect the realities of a broken people seeking hope.
The healing of Nigeria cannot happen behind closed doors. It must be loud. It must be public. And it must include people like VDM and the Ordinary President. These are men who, in their different ways, have shown courage. They have gone where the state could not or would not go. They have dragged cases of abuse, corruption, and oppression into the light. Whether you agree with their methods or not, you cannot deny their impact.
So what should the government do? First, it must speak clearly and transparently. If VDM’s arrest is justified, let the facts be laid out without delay. If he is being punished for stepping on elite toes, then we must call it what it is—abuse of power. Silence from official quarters only worsens the situation.
Second, the government should make it clear, through policy and action, that Nigeria is not in the business of silencing its citizens. This includes enshrining protections for whistleblowers, journalists, and citizen advocates. The future of our democracy depends on it.
Finally, we must, as a people, learn to support our own. Today, it is VDM and the Ordinary President. Tomorrow, it could be someone else. We must stop consuming our brave hearts like yesterday’s entertainment. We must protect them, pray for them, speak for them when they cannot speak for themselves, and demand fairness when the system targets them.
In the end, the true test of a nation’s strength is not how it treats the powerful, but how it treats the voices that speak up for the weak. Nigeria must rise to this test. Because if we lose our voices, we lose our souls.
- Mairo Mudi writes from Suleja, Niger State and she can be reached via mairommuhammad@gmail.com.