By Mohammed Bello Doka
5 April, 2026.
Welcome to another rib-cracking edition of Sarcastic Sunday with Mohammed Bello Doka. Here, we dissect Nigeria's political gymnastics with enough sarcasm to stop us from choking on our own tears. Because if we didn't laugh, we'd all be drowning in bowls of amala while wondering how we got here.
Apparently, changing the NYSC uniform to Adire is the miracle cure Nigeria has been waiting for. Forget inflation, insecurity, unemployment, failing hospitals, collapsing schools, and an economy that sends people into depression before breakfast. One change of fabric and—boom!—bandits will disappear, Boko Haram will become peace ambassadors, poverty will evaporate, and Nigeria will transform into El Dorado, flowing with gold, milk, and honey. Who needs functioning refineries, stable electricity, or secure borders when we have designer wrappers? The ancestors must be giving a standing ovation.
President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, it seems, wasn't satisfied with the quiet Yorubanisation many critics see in federal appointments. Let's take a stroll down Appointment Avenue. Chief of Army Staff: Lt. Gen. Olufemi Oluyede from Ekiti. Inspector General of Police: Kayode Egbetokun. EFCC Chairman: Ola Olukoyede, also from Ekiti. DSS Director-General: Adeola Ajayi. Comptroller-General of Customs: Bashir Adeniyi. Immigration: Kemi Nandap. Chief Justice: Olukayode Ariwoola from the South-West. Attorney General: Lateef Fagbemi from Kwara. CBN Governor: Yemi Cardoso from Lagos. NNPCL GCEO: Bayo Ojulari from Kwara. Finance Minister: Wale Edun. FIRS Chairman: Zacch Adedeji. Minister of Solid Minerals: Dele Alake.
Security, Judiciary, the economy, and key institutions increasingly appear to speak with one accent. Federal character? That has become a comedy sketch. The rest of us simply woke up one morning wondering whether we had unknowingly relocated to the Federal Republic of Owambe. Beautiful coincidence, isn't it? The President is merely surrounding himself with "trusted hands." Any resemblance to a regional reunion is, of course, purely coincidental.
Having supposedly conquered security, the economy, and the bureaucracy, the administration has now turned to its most ambitious project yet: the Yorubanisation of Nigerian youth through Adire as the new NYSC uniform. The iconic khaki that has symbolised national service for over five decades is suddenly being asked to retire in favour of the fabric your grandmother wears to weddings, market women proudly display, and Okada riders sometimes use as seat covers. Nation-building has never looked this fashionable.
Public outrage arrived faster than a Lagos danfo driver spotting an empty bus stop. Suddenly, the minister performed an Olympic-standard U-turn: "It was only a suggestion." Of course it was. Just a harmless little trial balloon. When the balloon floated into a thunderstorm of public criticism, it landed immediately. We have seen that movie before.
Some defenders insist Adire is not exclusively Yoruba but a Nigerian fabric. Nigerians are unconvinced. The name "Adire" sounds about as Yoruba as Amala. Yoruba culture is rich, beautiful, and deserves celebration. But presenting one cultural symbol as the national symbol under the banner of unity is where the comedy begins to write itself.
Let's examine the practical brilliance of the proposal. The NYSC khaki commands instant recognition. You see khaki and immediately know it's a corps member. Adire? My brother, who exactly are we identifying? The corps member heading to CDS, the trader going to the market, or the Okada rider taking a short break? Khaki said, "National Service." Adire says, "Madam, last price?"
Then comes durability. Khaki survives Borno heat, Sokoto dust, and the humidity of the Niger Delta. Adire? By month three, it may fade faster than campaign promises after inauguration. By month six, it could begin negotiating its own retirement. The dust will complain. The sweat will protest. Even the fabric itself may start regretting the appointment.
And because this is Nigeria, class differences must inevitably join the conversation. NYSC may gradually become Fashion Week. Wealthy corps members will arrive in premium designer Adire while struggling graduates negotiate with tailors to patch theirs. Give it a little time and we'll have Executive Adire, VIP Adire, Owambe Edition, and the exclusive "My Uncle Is a Minister" collection. The slogan may quietly evolve from "Service to the Nation" to "Style to the Nation." At least somebody's economy will be booming in Ladoja market somewhere in Lagos.
Now let me ask the questions nobody seems eager to answer. What exactly were they thinking about the corps member serving in Borno, where Adire is hardly everyday attire? Or the one in Sokoto, where the blazing sun may reduce colourful fabric to nostalgia in record time? Or those serving in riverine communities where humidity respects no fashion statement? Or the average corps member who can barely afford multiple sets because the economy has already become an endurance competition? Perhaps these were minor details. Looking good on television appears to have received higher priority.
Can they not at least pretend to be neutral until after the next election? Is that really too much to ask? Federal character increasingly resembles a polite suggestion. Citizenship may still say "Nigerian," but the dress code appears to be under review.
Who knows what comes next? Perhaps Yoruba will become the unofficial lingua franca. "Bawo ni?" "E kaabo." "E se." By next year we'll all be practising pronunciation before breakfast. By the end of this administration, we may be dreaming in Yoruba and apologising in Yoruba too. Progress. After all the language isn't that difficult to learn.
The funniest part is that social media outrage forced an immediate retreat. But trial balloons are rarely launched without a reason. The balloon may have burst, yet it revealed enough to keep Nigerians guessing about the next brilliant innovation. Maybe government buildings will receive Adire paint. Maybe official files will come wrapped in Ankara. At this point, nothing sounds impossible anymore.
We close this edition of Sarcastic Sunday. We have laughed, we have cried, and we have asked questions unlikely to receive answers. Until next Sunday, keep laughing and keep surviving. At this rate, your next NYSC kit may come with complimentary Adire, a Yoruba phrasebook, and a certificate welcoming you to the United States of Owambe.
The future is Adire, my people.
Shine your eyes.
Mohammed Bello Doka can be reached via [email protected]
Abuja Network News
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Sarcastic Sunday