“Make Sure You Die”: What Akpabio’s Suicide Remark Says About Who Leads Us

When Leadership Forgets Humanity

Leadership should be a responsibility, not a licence to humiliate people. Those entrusted with public office should understand that their words carry weight, especially in a country where millions of citizens struggle with unemployment, poverty, insecurity and the daily pressure of survival.

That is why a remark such as “Make sure you die,” attributed to Senate President Godswill Akpabio in the controversy surrounding suicide, deserves serious public scrutiny. When a statement touches on suicide, the issue goes beyond political banter. It raises questions about empathy, mental health awareness and the attitude of those who make decisions on behalf of millions of Nigerians.

Nigeria already has enough problems to fill several government press conferences. We have economic hardship, struggling hospitals, expensive food and young people desperately searching for opportunities. Apparently, we must also find time to explain to some of our leaders that human suffering is not a comedy show.

Of course, public officials can make mistakes, and a controversial statement should be assessed within its full context. However, the higher the office, the greater the responsibility to speak carefully. The Senate President is not an ordinary commentator arguing in a neighbourhood meeting. His words carry institutional weight and can influence how the public discusses sensitive issues.

And if our leaders require a reminder that human life deserves respect, perhaps the problem is not the microphone. Perhaps it is what happens before they speak into it.

The Danger of Treating Suicide as a Joke

Suicide is a deeply sensitive subject. People who experience suicidal thoughts may be dealing with depression, overwhelming stress, trauma, financial distress or other serious challenges. Their experiences differ, and no single explanation captures every situation.

For that reason, public conversations about suicide require compassion, accurate information and responsible language. Mockery, insults and dismissive remarks can deepen the stigma that prevents people from seeking help.

In Nigeria, where mental health discussions still face considerable cultural and social barriers, careless public statements can make an already difficult situation worse. Someone experiencing emotional distress may already fear being labelled weak, ungrateful or spiritually deficient. Hearing influential people speak dismissively about suicide may reinforce those fears.

This does not mean every controversial political statement should be interpreted in the worst possible way. Context matters, and citizens deserve accurate reporting rather than manufactured outrage. Nevertheless, context should help explain a statement, not automatically excuse its impact.

The fundamental question is simple: when public officials discuss people in extreme distress, do their words encourage understanding or make suffering easier to ridicule?

A country cannot claim to value human life while treating conversations about suicide as opportunities for political entertainment.

What Akpabio’s Remark Reveals About Leadership

The controversy surrounding Akpabio’s remark invites Nigerians to examine a broader question: what qualities do we expect from the people who lead us?

First, leadership requires empathy. A leader does not need to experience every hardship personally before recognising another person’s pain. Empathy means understanding that behind every statistic is a human being, and behind every public controversy may be someone struggling to survive.

Unfortunately, Nigerian politics often rewards confidence more visibly than compassion. Politicians can dominate debates, deliver dramatic speeches and exchange sharp insults while the public waits for meaningful solutions. Sometimes, the performance of power seems more important than the responsibility that comes with it.

Second, leadership requires restraint. Words spoken from positions of authority can influence public attitudes. A careless comment about suicide can travel far beyond the room where it was made. It can shape headlines, trigger public arguments and influence how vulnerable people believe society views them.

Third, leadership requires accountability. When a public figure makes a statement that raises legitimate concerns, citizens should be able to ask questions without being dismissed as political enemies. Responsible leaders should clarify their intentions, acknowledge legitimate concerns and correct harmful impressions where necessary.

After all, public office is not a lifetime exemption from criticism. It is an invitation to greater scrutiny.

And here is the sarcastic part: perhaps we should introduce a new qualification for public office in Nigeria. Before anyone becomes a senator, minister or governor, they must pass a simple test: demonstrate that they understand the difference between governing human beings and managing a collection of statistics. Judging by some public performances, that examination might produce a rather interesting set of results.

Our Leaders and the Theatre of Political Insensitivity

Nigerian politics has developed a familiar theatre. Politicians make bold declarations, opponents respond with outrage, supporters defend their preferred candidates, and social media becomes a battlefield. By the following week, another controversy arrives to occupy the public’s attention.

Meanwhile, the ordinary citizen continues paying for food, transportation, electricity and healthcare.

This cycle creates a dangerous distraction. Public debates become centred on personalities rather than the responsibilities attached to their offices. Citizens argue about who insulted whom while questions about public services, legislative priorities and social protection receive less attention.

The problem is not that politicians should never joke or engage in spirited exchanges. Humour has a place in public life. The problem begins when the suffering of vulnerable people becomes material for careless remarks.

Imagine a Nigerian struggling to pay rent, provide food for a family and find stable employment. Imagine that person also battling emotional distress. What message should public leadership communicate to someone in that position? That their suffering deserves attention, or that they should become another punchline in the national conversation?

Sarcasm is tempting because the situation sometimes feels absurd. Our leaders can spend hours debating political interests, yet discussions about the emotional wellbeing of citizens may struggle to receive the same seriousness. Perhaps one day, we will establish a national committee to investigate why compassion has become such a scarce public resource. Given our enthusiasm for committees, that might be the one project everyone can agree to fund.

But beneath the humour lies a serious concern: political insensitivity can weaken public trust. Citizens need to believe that those representing them recognise their dignity, even when they disagree with their choices or struggle to understand their circumstances.