From Rhoda Godwin, Yenagoa
On a humid Wednesday in Yenagoa, Bayelsa State, the familiar language of political praise was replaced by something less comfortable: questions.
At the Nigeria Union of Journalists (NUJ) Secretariat in Azikoro, Publisher of Niger Delta Herald, Comrade Francis Dufagha, stood before journalists, and declared that he had not come to praise the Bayelsa State Government or decorate its record with flattering words.
He came, he said, to speak for citizens who are increasingly asking what has become of the promise of prosperity.
“I have not come to praise the government. Neither have I come to massage the ego of the governor. I have not come to decorate failure with grammar. I have not come to join the growing army of praise singers whose only interest is to tell (the) government what it wants to hear. I have come to speak for the people,” Dufagha said.
His words set the tone for a press conference that was less about politics and more about the daily experiences of ordinary Bayelsans—people travelling on difficult roads, families searching for quality healthcare, graduates looking for jobs and communities wondering what public revenue is doing to improve their lives.
Dufagha’s central argument was simple: government belongs to the people, and citizens have the right to demand explanations from those entrusted with public resources.
“Bayelsa State does not belong to Governor Douye Diri. It does not belong to the PDP. It does not belong to the APC. It does not belong to political godfathers. It belongs to the people.
“The governor is only the current occupant of the Government House. He is a servant of the people. And when a servant fails, the master has the right to ask questions. That is democracy. That is accountability. That is the essence of journalism,” he said.
For years, the word ‘prosperity’ has featured prominently in conversations about the state’s development. But for Dufagha, the real test of prosperity is not in official speeches or government publicity. It is in the experience of the ordinary citizen.
“Prosperity for whom?” he asked.
The question hangs heavily over a state whose economy is closely linked to oil revenue, yet where many residents continue to struggle with unemployment, inadequate healthcare, limited economic opportunities and poor infrastructure.
“Where is the prosperity in the life of the ordinary Bayelsans? Where is the prosperity in the lives of our unemployed graduates? Where is the prosperity in our hospitals? Where is the prosperity in our schools? Where is the prosperity in our rural communities?” he asked.
He also spoke about traders struggling to keep small businesses alive, fishermen whose livelihoods he said are disappearing and young people who have obtained university degrees but remain without employment.
“Do not tell us about prosperity. Show us prosperity. Government is not a television commercial. Government is about results,” he declared.
When a road becomes a question of life and death
Perhaps the most emotional part of the address came when Dufagha recalled the death of journalist Isaac Ombe in a road accident at Toru-Orua in Sagbama Local Government Area. For him, the tragedy should not be reduced to another headline that disappears after a few days.
“A human being died. Not a statistic. Not a number. A human being,” he said.
That statement shifted the conversation from budgets and development statistics to the vulnerability of citizens moving through the state.
Every journey on a dangerous road carries a risk that is often invisible until tragedy strikes. A pothole, a damaged section, poor visibility or inadequate emergency response can turn an ordinary journey into a family tragedy.
Dufagha therefore asked questions about the condition of Bayelsa’s roads, the supervision of construction projects, certification, maintenance and emergency medical services.
“Whenever somebody dies on a dangerous road, we must ask whether that death could have been prevented. What is the condition of our roads? Who supervises their construction? Who certifies them? Who maintains them? What emergency medical system do we have for accident victims? How long does it take an injured person to reach a properly equipped hospital?” he queried.
Behind those questions are families that must live with consequences long after political speeches have ended.
“Isaac Ombe’s death should not simply become another story that disappears from the newspapers after three days. His death should provoke questions. His death should provoke actions,” Dufagha stated.
The cancer centre that Bayelsans still want answers about
Another issue that dominated the address was healthcare, particularly the long-discussed cancer treatment facility associated with the late mother of former Governor Seriake Dickson. Dufagha recalled the public attention that surrounded the proposed project and references to funds reportedly mobilised for it.
Then came the question he wanted the government and other relevant stakeholders to answer: “Where is the cancer centre?”
The question is significant because cancer treatment can be expensive, complex, and time-sensitive. For many families, the absence of specialised treatment close to home means travelling outside the state, sometimes at enormous financial and emotional cost.
Dufagha demanded clarity on the status of the project, the funds reportedly associated with it, expenditure, and the assets connected to the initiative.
“Where is the facility? Where is the equipment? Where is the specialised cancer treatment? Where is the account of the money?” he asked.
“If the project is alive, show us. If it is completed, take us there. If it is abandoned, tell us why. If billions were spent, publish the expenditure. The people have a right to know,” he demanded.
Those are questions that go beyond political affiliation. They touch on transparency, public trust, and the right of citizens to understand what happened to projects established in their names.
A resource-rich state still searching for transformation
Dufagha also challenged Bayelsa’s development priorities. As an oil-producing state, Bayelsa receives revenue from the federation and other public sources. But the question, he argued, is what ordinary citizens can point to as evidence that the resources are changing their lives.
“Where are the industries? Where are the jobs? Where are the functional health institutions? Where is the agricultural transformation?” he asked.
He also challenged the scale of investment in young people, economic diversification, and human capital development.
“We cannot continue to receive billions, and present a few roads and buildings as though we have transformed the state. Bayelsa deserves more than that,” he declared.
His criticism speaks to a broader challenge facing resource-rich communities: development cannot be measured only by the number of projects commissioned. Citizens also want to know whether those projects create jobs, improve health outcomes, strengthen education, increase household incomes, and make everyday life safer.
Healthcare beyond the capital
For Dufagha, the health sector provides, perhaps, the clearest measure of whether the government is working for the people.
“When I fall sick, where can I go? Can I get emergency treatment? Can I get specialised treatment? Can I get cancer treatment? Can I get adequate diagnostic services? Can I get surgery? Can I get medicine? Can I trust the system with my life?” he asked.
These are deeply personal questions. For a mother whose child suddenly falls ill, the quality of a hospital is not an abstract policy issue. For an accident victim, an ambulance and emergency unit can mean the difference between survival and death. For a cancer patient, access to diagnosis and treatment can determine whether a disease is caught early enough.
Dufagha argued that Bayelsa should not have to depend heavily on other states or foreign countries for medical services that a modern oil-producing state should increasingly be able to provide.
“If Bayelsans must continue travelling to Port Harcourt (Rivers State), Lagos, Abuja, India or elsewhere for treatments that a modern state should provide, then something is fundamentally wrong. Oil-producing Bayelsa should not be medically dependent on other states,” he said.
The questions will remain
At the heart of Dufagha’s press conference was a message that the government cannot silence questions simply because they are uncomfortable.
His speech was not merely an indictment of one administration. It was a demand for a culture in which public officials are expected to explain decisions, account for resources, and demonstrate measurable results.
The challenge now is whether the questions raised will lead to answers. Bayelsans want to know what happened to the projects that were announced, what is being done about dangerous roads, how healthcare can be strengthened, where employment opportunities will come from, and how the state’s oil wealth can translate into a better quality of life. They also want to know whether criticism can be treated as part of democracy rather than automatically dismissed as hostility.
“Do not answer journalists with insults. Do not call us opposition. Do not say we are enemies of the government. Answer the questions,” Dufagha demanded.
That may ultimately be the most important demand from the press conference. Because behind every question about a road is a commuter trying to get home safely. Behind every question about a hospital is a patient hoping to survive. Behind every question about jobs is a young person trying to build a future. And behind every question about public money is a citizen asking whether the government truly works for the people.
For Dufagha, those questions are not going away. And perhaps they should not.
In a democracy, citizens do not owe government silence. Government owes citizens answers.