Features
Fubara's vow to restore demolished Rivers assembly complex by year-end: A costly band-aid on executive recklessness
Written By: Editor
24 Nov 2025 06:01 PM
Port Harcourt, Rivers – In a move that blends optimism with lingering controversy, Governor Siminalayi Fubara inspected the ongoing reconstruction of the Rivers State House of Assembly (RSHA) Complex on Monday, pledging its full readiness for use by the end of December.
The governor, addressing journalists at the site, emphasized the state's commitment to completing the project in time to host the presentation of the 2026 Appropriation Bill within the restored chambers, signaling a return to normalcy after nearly two years of upheaval.
"The work is advancing rapidly, and we are determined to deliver this facility before the close of the year," Fubara stated, highlighting the two-storey structure's progress and its role in strengthening democratic institutions.
Yet, beneath the veneer of progress lies a stark reminder of the very crisis that precipitated this multimillion-naira endeavor. Fubara's own administration's decision to raze the original complex in a fit of political pique.
The demolition, ordered in December 2023 amid a fierce power struggle between the governor and pro-Wike lawmakers in the assembly, stands as one of the most egregious acts of executive overreach in recent Nigerian political history. What began as an impeachment plot against Fubara fueled by his fallout with political godfather Nyesom Wike, now Minister of the Federal Capital Territory escalated into a bulldozer-led assault on the seat of legislative power.
Excavators descended on the complex, reducing the iconic auditorium and surrounding structures to rubble in a matter of days, ostensibly to make way for "renovations."
Critics, including Wike himself, decried it as a vengeful power play, with the former governor quipping in March 2025 that Fubara "demolished the assembly complex" and thus had no business showing up uninvited to re-present the state budget.
This act of destruction not only symbolized the breakdown of governance in Rivers State but inflicted tangible harm on its people. For over 18 months, lawmakers have been relegated to makeshift quarters, including hotel conference rooms and temporary offices, leading to protracted delays in legislative business.
From budget approvals to oversight functions. The ripple effects have been felt across the oil-rich state's economy, where stalled policies on infrastructure and security exacerbated unemployment and public discontent. Small wonder that the assembly's operations ground to a near-halt, turning what should have been a beacon of checks and balances into a ghost of political vendetta.
Fast-forward to June 2024, and the bill for this folly came due, as Fubara's government greenlit a whopping N19.6 billion contract for reconstruction, a sum that could have funded critical interventions in healthcare, education, or flood-prone communities ravaged by climate change.
Taxpayers, already burdened by rising living costs, are left footing the tab for what many view as a self-inflicted wound.
"It's like burning down your house in a domestic spat and then hiring the most expensive contractor to rebuild it while the family sleeps on the street," remarked Dr. Ebiere Sagama, a Port Harcourt-based political analyst, echoing widespread sentiments.
Earlier promises, including a September 2025 target under emergency rule, slipped past without delivery, leaving observers to question if December's deadline is more political theater than feasible timeline. Wike's camp, never one to mince words, has already labeled the reconstruction a "white elephant project," accusing Fubara of using it to burnish his image ahead of potential 2027 reelection bids.
Rivers State, with its vast resources and volatile politics, deserves better than reactive governance that prioritizes demolition over dialogue. Fubara's vow may restore bricks and mortar, but mending the fractures in trust and institutions will require far more than a ribbon-cutting ceremony.
As the year ticks down, the real test isn't whether the complex rises anew it's whether its resurrection prevents future governors from wielding state power like a wrecking ball.
The governor, addressing journalists at the site, emphasized the state's commitment to completing the project in time to host the presentation of the 2026 Appropriation Bill within the restored chambers, signaling a return to normalcy after nearly two years of upheaval.
"The work is advancing rapidly, and we are determined to deliver this facility before the close of the year," Fubara stated, highlighting the two-storey structure's progress and its role in strengthening democratic institutions.
Yet, beneath the veneer of progress lies a stark reminder of the very crisis that precipitated this multimillion-naira endeavor. Fubara's own administration's decision to raze the original complex in a fit of political pique.
The demolition, ordered in December 2023 amid a fierce power struggle between the governor and pro-Wike lawmakers in the assembly, stands as one of the most egregious acts of executive overreach in recent Nigerian political history. What began as an impeachment plot against Fubara fueled by his fallout with political godfather Nyesom Wike, now Minister of the Federal Capital Territory escalated into a bulldozer-led assault on the seat of legislative power.
Excavators descended on the complex, reducing the iconic auditorium and surrounding structures to rubble in a matter of days, ostensibly to make way for "renovations."
Critics, including Wike himself, decried it as a vengeful power play, with the former governor quipping in March 2025 that Fubara "demolished the assembly complex" and thus had no business showing up uninvited to re-present the state budget.
This act of destruction not only symbolized the breakdown of governance in Rivers State but inflicted tangible harm on its people. For over 18 months, lawmakers have been relegated to makeshift quarters, including hotel conference rooms and temporary offices, leading to protracted delays in legislative business.
From budget approvals to oversight functions. The ripple effects have been felt across the oil-rich state's economy, where stalled policies on infrastructure and security exacerbated unemployment and public discontent. Small wonder that the assembly's operations ground to a near-halt, turning what should have been a beacon of checks and balances into a ghost of political vendetta.
Fast-forward to June 2024, and the bill for this folly came due, as Fubara's government greenlit a whopping N19.6 billion contract for reconstruction, a sum that could have funded critical interventions in healthcare, education, or flood-prone communities ravaged by climate change.
Taxpayers, already burdened by rising living costs, are left footing the tab for what many view as a self-inflicted wound.
"It's like burning down your house in a domestic spat and then hiring the most expensive contractor to rebuild it while the family sleeps on the street," remarked Dr. Ebiere Sagama, a Port Harcourt-based political analyst, echoing widespread sentiments.
Earlier promises, including a September 2025 target under emergency rule, slipped past without delivery, leaving observers to question if December's deadline is more political theater than feasible timeline. Wike's camp, never one to mince words, has already labeled the reconstruction a "white elephant project," accusing Fubara of using it to burnish his image ahead of potential 2027 reelection bids.
Rivers State, with its vast resources and volatile politics, deserves better than reactive governance that prioritizes demolition over dialogue. Fubara's vow may restore bricks and mortar, but mending the fractures in trust and institutions will require far more than a ribbon-cutting ceremony.
As the year ticks down, the real test isn't whether the complex rises anew it's whether its resurrection prevents future governors from wielding state power like a wrecking ball.
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