In a dramatic demonstration of civic frustration, Hakuzion Omokafe Balogun, a resident of Ibilo in Edo State, has embarked on a solo trek from Auchi to the Government House in Benin City, wielding only a placard that reads: “Governor Monday Okpebholo, help us fix the road from Auchi to Ibilo. We beg you.”
The journey—some 80 kilometres over broken tarmac and lethal potholes—is intended as a symbolic sacrifice for his children’s safety, a stark indictment of the Tinubu administration’s apparent neglect of rural infrastructure in Akoko‑Edo.
Balogun insists that walking alone, rather than travelling by vehicle with a crowd, precludes any accusation of a political stunt or financial ploy, underscoring the depth of local despair.
A Road to Ruin: Human Toll of Neglect
The Auchi‑Ibilo Road, which should take a mere 10–15 minutes by car, now stretches to over an hour of nerve‑shredding travel, forcing motorists into dangerous detours through neighbouring villages to evade impassable stretches.
Such decay has exacted a tragic human cost: over 21,500 Nigerians perished in road accidents between 2021 and early 2024, with 6,205 deaths recorded in 2021 alone and 6,456 in 2022 ﹘ a staggering average of 17 fatalities daily.
In the wider WHO African Region, road traffic deaths rose by 17% between 2010 and 2021, accounting for nearly one‑fifth of global traffic fatalities despite possessing just 3% of the world’s vehicles).
The Auchi‑Ibilo corridor lies at the heart of this national crisis, its deterioration a microcosm of Nigeria’s broader road safety emergency.
Token Funding, Monumental Expectations
Despite the 2025 Edo State budget pledging ₦162 billion for road development, the Auchi‑IkpeshI‑Ibillo Road itself received a meagre ₦10 million allocation—barely enough to resurface a single kilometre of highway ﹘ a paltry token in a budget of ₦450.7 billion in total capital expenditure.
Even the broader Edo North zone saw only ₦9.5 billion earmarked for all roads and bridges, an amount that vanishes against the enormity of repairs needed.
Critics argue that this disparity reveals either gross mismanagement or a fundamental disconnect between government pronouncements and local priorities, leaving communities like Akoko‑Edo stranded between political rhetoric and reality.
Historical Context: A Pattern of Abandonment
This latest protest is not unprecedented. In 2018, youth groups in Bauchi State staged a similar march over the Bauchi‑Jos Road, while in 2021, grassroots activists trekked from Oyo to Ibadan, highlighting the chronic decay of inter‑city links.
Yet, Edo State has endured a uniquely severe decline: under the immediate past administration, over 15 major highways fell into disrepair, prompting frequent kidnappings, vehicle breakdowns, and market disruptions.
The current governor’s “Edo Rising” vision, outlined in his inaugural 2025 budget speech, promised to reverse decades of neglect, but local voices like Balogun’s suggest those pledges have yet to translate into tangible improvements.
A Conservative Critique: Accountability and Efficiency
From a fiscally conservative standpoint, the Åkerlofian incentive problem looms large: when public funds are allocated without stringent oversight, projects stagnate, and contractors pocket payments while communities suffer.
The Federal Road Safety Corps (FRSC), established in 1988 to curb carnage, has repeatedly blamed poor road conditions for the bulk of Nigeria’s 6,000–7,000 annual road deaths, yet its annual budget has lagged behind Washington’s ₦100 billion allocation for road maintenance ﹘ a sum that, despite Presidential top‑ups, still fails to address rural linkages.
Taxpayers deserve clear audits, performance‑based contracts, and sunlight on how every naira is spent, rather than symbolic balloon‑flights or grand ribbon‑cuttings.
Balogun’s Trek: A Father’s Plea or Political Theatre?
Balogun insists his trek is neither theatrical nor political. “First of all, it is not that I cannot take a vehicle, get a group of people… but doing that may look political,” he told our reporter, emphasising his desire for authenticity and sacrifice.
With sore feet, intermittent rain and only a backpack of essentials, he walks to “register a statement” in the hearts of Edo citizens and state officials.
Whether he reaches the Government House in Benin by Monday, 28 July 2025, remains uncertain, but his journey has already spotlighted decades of inaction, forcing the governor’s office to respond—or risk deeper reputational damage.
What Next: Governor Okpebholo’s Test
Governor Monday Okpebholo now faces a critical test of his administration’s commitment to practical governance.
Will he dispatch engineers and equipment to Auchi, order an immediate road safety audit, or simply wait for Balogun’s feet to bleed and hopes to fade?
Comparative data from the Lagos‑Calabar Coastal Highway initiative—budgeted at $13 billion and projected for 2031 completion—demonstrates that, with political will and transparent contracting, Nigeria can deliver transformative projects.
Edo’s rural constituents demand nothing less.
A Nation’s Mirror
Hakuzion Balogun’s solitary trek is more than a father’s plea—it is a mirror reflecting Nigeria’s chronic failure to maintain its lifelines.
As road fatalities continue to mount—17 every day on average—and budgets balloon without result, citizens lose faith in public institutions.
In the conservative tradition of demanding accountability, limited government waste, and empowered local communities, this protest must catalyse real action: comprehensive repairs, robust oversight, and lasting safety improvements.
Only then can Edo’s neglected roads cease to be a deathtrap and become the arteries of prosperity and security that this nation so desperately needs.
