By Jide Ololajulo
As Ondo State marks fifty years of existence, the moment invites more than celebration. It calls for sober reflection on the pathways that have shaped the politics of the state, the choices made in past years, and the options that lie ahead. This is particularly important given the state’s persistent inability, over the last four decades, to realize its full developmental potential.
One of the enduring features of leadership selection in the state has been the logic of zoning the governorship among the three senatorial districts. Although informal and intended as a mechanism for inclusion and balance, zoning has over time hardened into an unquestioned formula.
Even when the 2029 governorship election is still some years away, the “lo kan” (turn) chorus is already gathering steam. After decades of zoning politics, a critical question demands an honest answer. Has Ondo lo kan, Akoko lo kan, Owo lo kan, Ikale or Ilaje lo kan tangibly benefited the people of the said zones? Experience suggests otherwise.
The election of previous governors based on “lo kan” logic has hardly translated into lop-sided development, improved welfare, or sustained advantage for people of the governors’ districts. Roads, schools, healthcare, jobs, and security when provided have not followed zonal lines.
Where progress had occurred, it has depended less on where a governor comes from and more on how visionary and accountable that governor is. The truth is that zoning may have created symbolic capital for senatorial zones, but it has never translated to substance for them.
Persisting with a parochial mode of leadership selection, therefore, risks mistaking symbolism for substance, which has not really helped the state. So far, all the senatorial zones have had their turns. We have seen the leaders produced by “lo kan” process and assessed what they delivered or are delivering. To insist on zoning without interrogating outcomes is tantamount to repeating a habit rather than making a choice.
This piece is not dismissive of inclusion or fairness. It is a passionate call for merit to be elevated to the front of our political imagination. Merit does not repudiate geography. Rather it transcends it. A merit-based approach asks harder and more consequential questions: Who has the competence to manage the state’s economy? Who understands the state’s developmental challenges? Who has a record of administrative capacity?
Perhaps we ought to know that we lower the bar of leadership selection when we insist on clannish categories. In contrast, a politics of merit expands the field, raises expectations, and aligns leadership selection with the everyday realities that citizens face. Merit speaks to education that works, healthcare that is accessible, infrastructure that lasts, an economy that creates opportunities for all, and leadership with human face.
Letting merit take its turn in Ondo 2029 governorship election is a democratic experiment we must undertake. It is an invitation to judge aspirants not by where they come from, but by what they can offer. In Oyo State, Ibadan has produced all the governors since 1999, save Late Alao Akala who was from Ogbomosho. The next chapter of Ondo State would be written by competence and character, and tested by public scrutiny.
If zoning has had its turn between 1999 and 2024, then perhaps it is time to let competence have its day and see how the state fares. In the buildup to 2029, if there must be any “lo kan” politics in the state, let it be for merit!
*Jide Ololajulo, PhD writes from Abuja
Email: babjid74@yahoo.com


