When Pride Met Humility at the National Assembly: The Day "Oshobaba" Got a Dose of Humble Pie

 When Pride Met Humility at the National Assembly: The Day "Oshobaba" Got a Dose of Humble Pie

By Egbema Egberi Media special correspondent 

It was a regular day at the National Assembly Complex in Abuja—or so we thought. The sun was out, the air was tense with the scent of legislative ego, and the birds of democracy were chirping faintly in the background. Then entered His Excellency, Grand Commander of Swagger, Senator Adams "Oshobaba" Oshiomhole, with the kind of bounce that could crack marble tiles.

You could feel the pride before you saw it. His boys—more like presidential ushers—moved with the urgency of men escorting the president of the universe. They were clearing the way as if the Red Sea had legislative duties to attend to. Meanwhile, Oshobaba himself walked like a man whose agbada carried the weight of national importance, with citizens chanting, "Oshobaba! Oshobaba!" as if Davido had just dropped a hit single.

But as fate would have it, while this mobile pride parade was in full swing, there stood another senator—humble, grounded, and shockingly unknown to 90% of Nigerians. Let’s call him Senator Anonymous from the North. He wasn’t grandstanding, wasn’t flanked by six bodyguards or clearing road like a bulldozer. No, he was there on the roadside, casually chatting with commoners like me, cracking small jokes and sharing sachet water like a neighborhood uncle at a naming ceremony.

And then, the clash of pride and humility occurred.

One of Oshobaba’s boys, caught in the adrenaline of the crowd, bumped—not greeted, not brushed—but pushed the humble senator. Ewo! Dem push wrong senator oh. Before you could say "Order! Order!", Senator Anonymous’ boys reacted with the speed and force of Avengers summoned to Aso Rock.

Within seconds, Oshobaba's convoy was halted like a Danfo at LASTMA checkpoint. His boys were yanked from their seats, their designer suits rumpled like laundry on harmattan morning. A few even received “legislative massages” to their ribs and egos. For a brief, glorious moment, pride was deflated like a poorly sewn campaign poster.

And guess what? Our Oshobaba—the Lion of Edo, the bulldozer of unions—was seen pleading. Yes, pleading, like a student who forgot his ID card during exam. His voice, normally laced with fire and brimstone, now sounded like, “Abeg make una no vex... we no know say na una senator... abeg...”

In the end, peace returned, pride bowed, and humility had the last laugh.

Moral of the story? If you’re going to parade pride at the National Assembly, make sure you don’t push humility out of the way—especially when humility has bouncers.