Tinubu’s Surgery Metaphor Leaves Nigerians Scratching Heads: “Suffering is Pain of Painful a Surgery”
By: Abudu Olalekan
President Bola Tinubu steps up. Not to a podium. To us. To Ibadan. To the nation watching shaky phone screens. He clears his throat. Adjusts his agbada. And drops a line that’ll haunt Twitter feeds for days:
“Your suffering is a pain of painful a surgery.”
Pause.
Wait… what?
Yeah. That’s right. “Pain of painful a surgery.” Not “the.” Not “a painful type of surgery.” Just… a painful a surgery. Ouch.
Man, it’s rough out here.
See, Tinubu’s been doing what he calls “reforms.” Deregulating. Removing subsidies. Trying to fix Nigeria’s broken economy. Noble? Maybe. Popular? Hardly. Prices soaring. Empty wallets. Long queues at fuel stations. People hurting. Real hurt.
So there he stands. Under the glare of cameras. In front of Oba Rashidi Ladoja’s throne. Trying to sell hope. To Ibadan. To all of us.
“Thanks for taking care of me,” he says. (Referring to Ibadan, not himself. Weird flex, but okay.) “I’m here to tell you… stand with me. It’s my turn. We are there.”
We are there. Sounds noble. Feels… vague. Like he’s reading a grocery list.
Then comes the money shot. The headline everyone needed. Because let’s be real—nobody’s sleeping soundly while bread costs a week’s wages.
“To many of you here… I’m honoured to give you cheering news,” he beams. “Economy has turned the corner. Bright light at the tunnel’s end.”
Finally. A light.
But then… that phrase. The one that slipped out like a banana peel.
“Your suffering is a pain of painful a surgery.”
Seriously?
Folks stared. Phones clicked. Journalists choked on their chin chin. How do you even process that? Is he saying Nigerians are… patients? On an operating table? While he’s the surgeon? Or the patient?
Man. Even the concept stings. Comparing national hardship to… surgery? Sounds like he’s diagnosing poverty as a medical condition. Like if we just survive the scalpel… prosperity magically appears.
Sound familiar? Yeah. We’ve heard promises before. “Soon.” “Just hold on.” But soon never came. Now? People are tired. Angry. Hungry.
Tinubu sees it. Knows it. So he adds: “It is now returned to the moment of growth… prosperity awaits us ahead.”
Growth? Maybe. But whose growth? When we’re the ones bleeding on the table?
Meanwhile…
Governor Seyi Makinde stands nearby. Sharp suit. Calm smile. Hands over the Staff of Office to the new Olubadan. Symbolism heavy as lead. Tradition anchoring chaos. The governor’s voice rings clear: “This staff represents wisdom, continuity, service.”
Service. Right. While Tinubu’s busy redefining “surgery” in broken English.
Here’s the raw truth nobody’s saying:
“Pain of painful a surgery” isn’t poetic. It’s panic.
“Bright light at the tunnel’s end” feels like a mirage.
“We are there” sounds like he’s lost.
Nigerians aren’t patients. We’re citizens. Voting. Struggling. Raising kids in a crisis. We need action, not metaphors that collapse under their own weight.
Especially when the math doesn’t lie:
Inflation still above 30%
Naira weaker than ever
Millions pushed deeper into poverty
Tinubu’s trying. Maybe. But hope isn’t built on phrases. It’s built on results. On jobs. On food on tables. On fixing the power grid without begging for diesel imports.
He talks of “turning corners.” But where’s the road? Where’s the map?
Back in Mapo Hall, the drums keep beating. The kolanut smoke thickens. And somewhere, a nation holds its breath.
Not for metaphors.
For miracles.
