Faaja, Ajọṣe, and the Imperative of Conflict Transformation in Oyo APC: History, Politics, and the Search for Enduring Unity || By Timilehin Kolade
By Timilehin Kolade
Politics is often described as the struggle for power. Yet, history teaches that politics, at its noblest, is the art of managing differences in pursuit of a common good. Every political community—whether a nation, an empire, or a political party—is confronted with a defining question: will competition strengthen the institution or destroy it? The answer has shaped the destinies of civilizations, governments, and political movements throughout history.
The contemporary experience of the All Progressives Congress (APC) in Oyo State invites a reflection on two profound Yoruba political philosophies that have long influenced interpersonal and political relations: Faaja and Ajọṣe.
Within the lexicon of Oyo politics, Faaja represents the destructive disposition that says, “If I cannot have it, you will not have it either.” It is the politics of bitterness, where personal ambition supersedes institutional survival. It celebrates the frustration of another person’s aspiration even when such frustration weakens the very political platform upon which everyone depends.
Its opposite is Ajọṣe—the philosophy of cooperation, collective responsibility, shared sacrifice, and common purpose. Ajọṣe does not abolish competition; it civilises it. It recognises that disagreements are inevitable in every vibrant political organisation but insists that such disagreements should never become instruments of self-destruction. In Yoruba political thought, victory is meaningful only when the political family emerges stronger after the contest than it was before.
This distinction has become increasingly relevant in contemporary Nigerian politics.
Political competition is healthy. Democracy flourishes when competent men and women present different visions of leadership. Political parties should encourage debate, ambition, and contestation because these are signs of institutional vitality. However, when competition degenerates into permanent hostility, democracy begins to consume itself. Political actors become more committed to defeating one another than advancing the collective aspirations of the people they seek to govern.
The Yoruba worldview has always rejected such destructive tendencies. Our forebears understood that no meaningful achievement is realised in isolation. The timeless proverb, “Igi kan kò dá igbó ṣe”—one tree does not make a forest—captures this philosophy. Likewise, “Ọwọ́ kan kò gbé ẹrù d’órí” reminds us that one hand cannot lift a load onto the head. These are not merely cultural sayings; they are enduring principles of political organisation. They teach that sustainable leadership is impossible without cooperation.
History repeatedly vindicates this wisdom.
Ancient Athens and Sparta exhausted themselves through the Peloponnesian War, weakening the Greek world and paving the way for external domination. Many African kingdoms similarly declined not simply because of foreign aggression but because internal rivalries fractured their cohesion. History consistently demonstrates that institutions rarely collapse because of the strength of their opponents alone. More often, they weaken from within.
Nigeria’s political evolution offers equally compelling lessons. The collapse of the First Republic was accelerated by political intolerance, regional distrust, and an inability among leaders to manage competition constructively. Personal and regional rivalries gradually overshadowed national purpose, creating conditions that ultimately undermined democratic governance.
The Nigerian Civil War also underscores the limitations of victory achieved without comprehensive reconciliation. Although the war ended in 1970, many of the underlying grievances continued to shape national discourse. The policy of Reconstruction, Rehabilitation, and Reconciliation represented an important attempt at healing, but history has shown that reconciliation cannot be sustained merely through official declarations. Genuine peace requires rebuilding trust, addressing grievances, and creating institutions that inspire confidence among former rivals.
This is the central insight of conflict transformation.
Unlike conflict management, which seeks to contain disputes, or conflict resolution, which focuses on settling disagreements, conflict transformation seeks something deeper. It transforms relationships, attitudes, and institutions so that former competitors become partners in building a common future. It asks not simply, “How do we end this conflict?” but “How do we ensure that today’s disagreement becomes tomorrow’s foundation for cooperation?”
This insight is particularly relevant to political parties.
Every successful political organisation experiences internal disagreements. Leadership contests, ideological differences, and personal ambitions are inevitable in democratic institutions. The objective should never be to eliminate competition but to ensure that competition strengthens rather than weakens the organisation.
Unfortunately, many parties mistake temporary silence for genuine peace. They assume that because disagreements have disappeared from public view, reconciliation has been achieved. History warns against such assumptions. Suppressed grievances rarely disappear; they simply await another opportunity to resurface.
Against this historical and theoretical backdrop, the emergence of Senator as the APC’s governorship candidate presents both an opportunity and a profound test of leadership. The contest has produced a candidate, but it has not automatically produced cohesion. The greater challenge now is transforming post-primary competition into a united political movement capable of inspiring confidence across Oyo State.
The APC is blessed with an abundance of accomplished leaders. Aspirants who participated in the governorship race brought with them years of political experience, loyal supporters, grassroots structures, and invaluable electoral capital. Their aspirations enriched the democratic process within the party. The conclusion of the primary should therefore not signify the exclusion of those who did not emerge victorious; rather, it should inaugurate a new phase of inclusive leadership in which every tendency sees itself as an indispensable stakeholder in the party’s future.
This places a historic responsibility upon Senator Alli.
Leadership begins where victory ends. The authority conferred by delegates is significant, but political legitimacy is ultimately strengthened by magnanimity, consultation, and inclusion. The goodwill of the Presidency and the support of the party’s national leadership are valuable political assets. Yet history consistently demonstrates that electoral success cannot rest on elite endorsement alone. Elections are won in polling units, wards, and communities by committed party members who believe they have a stake in the collective project.
Consequently, Senator Alli’s most important assignment begins after his emergence. He must become not merely the APC’s candidate but the candidate of every tendency within the party. He must reach out to fellow aspirants, respected elders, youth groups, women leaders, grassroots mobilisers, and supporters whose preferred choices did not prevail. Every handshake, every consultation, every sincere conversation should communicate one unmistakable message: there are no permanent victors or permanent losers within the APC—only partners committed to a shared future.
This is why cosmetic peacebuilding would be a costly mistake.
Cosmetic peacebuilding is the politics of appearances. It is characterised by carefully staged meetings, group photographs, public endorsements, press statements declaring unity, and symbolic reconciliatory gestures that leave the underlying grievances untouched. It values optics above outcomes and symbolism above substance. While such exercises may temporarily calm public anxiety, they seldom restore broken relationships.
Peace and conflict studies caution against this approach because it merely suppresses conflict instead of transforming it. Unresolved grievances have a remarkable capacity to re-emerge at the most critical political moments. They often manifest as voter apathy, weak mobilisation, passive resistance, anti-party activities, or quiet indifference during electioneering. Political organisations frequently discover too late that unity proclaimed before cameras is not necessarily unity practised in communities.
The APC must therefore pursue genuine conflict transformation.
Conflict transformation requires honest conversations, fairness, political inclusion, continuous engagement, and deliberate efforts to rebuild trust among stakeholders. Former aspirants should not merely be invited to reconciliation meetings; they should be integrated into the campaign architecture and the broader political vision of the party. Their supporters must recognise that the end of the primary has not diminished their relevance. A victorious candidate who governs only with those who supported him risks shrinking the very coalition required for electoral success.
Politics should not merely produce winners; it should produce stronger institutions. The maturity of a political party is measured not by the intensity of its primary elections but by the quality of its reconciliation after those contests. Elections determine who leads, but reconciliation determines whether leadership succeeds.
History has consistently affirmed that political organisations built on inclusion endure longer than those sustained by exclusion. Great leaders understand that reconciliation is not an act of weakness but an expression of confidence. Magnanimity strengthens authority because it transforms former rivals into trusted partners.
The Yoruba remind us that “Igi kan kò dá igbó ṣe.” One tree does not make a forest. No political party is sustained by one leader, one tendency, or one electoral victory. Its enduring strength lies in the willingness of its members to subordinate personal disappointment to collective progress. That is the enduring wisdom of Ajọṣe. It is also the essence of genuine conflict transformation.
History has already rendered its judgment. Political parties built on Faaja eventually consume themselves from within, but those sustained by Ajọṣe cultivate resilience, inspire confidence, and endure. The future of the Oyo APC will therefore be determined not merely by the emergence of Senator Sharafadeen Alli as its governorship candidate, but by the party’s collective commitment to justice, inclusion, magnanimity, and unity. If that commitment is sustained, the APC will not simply contest the next election; it will present itself as a united political movement prepared to earn the confidence of the people of Oyo State.
The challenge before the APC is therefore larger than winning the next election. It is about building an institution where competition produces excellence rather than enmity, where leadership inspires confidence rather than suspicion, and where every stakeholder sees another’s success not as a personal loss but as a collective gain. In the final analysis, elections are transient, but institutions endure. The true measure of political leadership is not simply the ability to win power but the wisdom to unite people in the service of a higher purpose. That is the enduring lesson of history. That is the timeless wisdom of Ajọṣe. And that is the surest pathway to a stronger APC and a more prosperous Oyo State.