by Olaitan Babatunde
In the footage circulating ahead of Saturday’s Osun governorship election, Senator Francis Fadahunsi, representing Osun East, is seen addressing supporters in Ilesa and making a statement about “killing” members of the Accord Party. The footage has since triggered outrage, political condemnation and calls for investigation. Fadahunsi has now offered a different interpretation, saying he meant that APC supporters should defeat Accord “with votes”, not violence. He also says the video was edited to distort his meaning.
But there is a problem with that explanation that deserves more than partisan arguments on social media. Political language is not judged only by what the speaker later says he intended. It is also judged by what an ordinary listener could reasonably understand from the words actually spoken. According to Premium Times’ report, the video shows Fadahunsi telling supporters that if they saw Accord members between then and election day, “it is killing.” The report says the crowd responded with cheers. That context makes the controversy considerably more serious.
This was not a private conversation between friends. It was a political gathering, during an election campaign, in a state where tensions are already high. The audience was made up of political supporters. The election was only days away. In such an environment, words that invoke killing cannot simply be dismissed as colourful campaign language. And there is a particularly uncomfortable question here: what does a voter hear when a powerful politician uses the language of killing against a rival political group?
The answer will not be the same for everyone.
An experienced politician may understand “kill them with votes” as political metaphor. A young party supporter who has already witnessed violence may hear something completely different. A woman preparing to travel to her polling unit may wonder whether the political rivalry has become dangerous. An elderly voter may decide that whatever candidate he supports is not worth risking his life. That is how political intimidation works. It does not always require someone to arrive at your house with a weapon.
Sometimes the threat is simply repeated loudly enough that you begin to believe something bad could happen. The controversy is also unfolding against a background of genuine security concerns in Osun. Premium Times reported that three people were killed in a shooting in the Imo area of Ilesa shortly before the Fadahunsi controversy. The police, however, said the incident was a cult related clash involving suspected members of the Aiye and Eiye groups, while community sources reportedly linked it to clashes between political supporters. That difference is important because it demonstrates precisely why journalists must resist the temptation to automatically label every act of violence as political. The facts must be established.
Yet the existence of competing explanations does not make the political atmosphere less dangerous. The police have now summoned Fadahunsi over the controversial statement. The command confirmed that he was invited by the Commissioner of Police responsible for the election. That is the appropriate direction for the matter. If the statement was genuinely misunderstood, an investigation should establish that. If the video was deceptively edited, investigators should establish how and by whom. If the full context demonstrates that the statement amounted to an incitement to violence, then the law should take its course.
What should not happen is for political parties to conduct their own parallel courts on Facebook and X. The APC should not automatically dismiss the controversy because Fadahunsi is one of its own. Accord should not automatically treat the video as conclusive proof of a planned campaign of violence. Supporters of neither party should become investigators, judges and executioners from the comfort of their phones.
The police have the authority to investigate. The courts have the authority to determine criminal liability. Citizens have the right to vote. That last point is the one that risks getting lost.
Nigeria’s electoral laws are designed around a basic democratic principle: citizens should be able to choose their representatives freely. If a voter supports Accord, APC, ADC or any other registered political party, that choice should not expose the person to intimidation or violence. A politician can tell supporters to defeat an opponent. He can tell them to campaign harder, win more votes and dominate the ballot box. There is nothing undemocratic about political competition.
But once the language of political competition begins to sound like a threat against human beings, the boundary becomes dangerously thin.
Fadahunsi’s clarification therefore does not end the story. It creates another question. Why use the word “kill” at all in an election that is already surrounded by allegations of violence? There are millions of words available to a politician. “Defeat” is one. “Outvote” is another. “Reject” works perfectly well. “Send them home politically” would probably have survived the campaign trail without producing a national controversy.
Yet “kill” was the word heard in the footage.
That is precisely why the incident deserves serious scrutiny rather than partisan entertainment. An election is not a football match where supporters can exchange insults and go home. Political words have consequences because politicians possess influence, followers and access to institutions that ordinary citizens do not. The most dangerous outcome would be for Nigerians to become so accustomed to violent political language that it stops shocking them.
Today it is “kill them.” Tomorrow it may be “deal with them.” Eventually someone may act on the language while everybody else argues about whether the original speaker meant it literally. By then, the clarification will be too late. Osun voters do not need politicians who promise to destroy their opponents. They need politicians who can persuade them to vote for their ideas. The strongest political “kill” should happen inside the ballot box, where a citizen rejects a candidate with one thumbprint and walks away alive.
That is what an election is supposed to look like.
