By ESEME EYIBOH, mnipr

There are moments in a nation’s life when institutions are reminded—quietly but unmistakably—that time does not negotiate with comfort. Nigeria’s Senate, returning from the conviviality of Christmas recess and New Year reflection to the discipline of plenary, has arrived at such a moment. The period of acclimatization has passed. The era of testing intentions is over. What remains is a phase in which time asserts itself, when the calendar ceases to be a backdrop and becomes an active force in governance.

When the President of the Senate, Godswill Obot Akpabio, rose to welcome colleagues back to the chamber in early 2026, he spoke with an ease that respected ceremony while remaining alert to consequence. The tone was cordial but unsentimental; reflective without wandering. Beneath the courtesy was a clear intimation that the Tenth Senate had crossed from the comfort of beginnings into the gravity of its defining phase.

He began where seriousness often takes root—not with policy, but with people. The recess, he reminded senators, was not an escape from accountability but an extension of it: time spent among constituents, re-engaging voices that do not echo within the chamber, absorbing frustrations that do not arrive neatly packaged as memoranda, and reconnecting with the human weight behind legislative abstractions. In doing so, Akpabio quietly reaffirmed representation as a lived obligation rather than a procedural formality.

The Senate, however, resumed its work under the shadow of loss. The death of Senator Godiya Akwashiki during the recess lent the chamber a gravity that could not be ignored. Akpabio’s tribute was spare, almost austere, and for that reason it carried weight. He spoke of diligence, humility, and responsibility—not as ornament, but as the unobtrusive virtues that prevent institutions from emptying themselves of meaning. The moment of silence that followed served as a reminder that democracy rests not only on arithmetic and procedure, but on the moral character of those entrusted to serve.

The address then widened its lens to the nation beyond the chamber. Nigeria, Akpabio observed, did not pause while the Senate recessed. Economic pressures persisted. Security challenges endured. Social demands intensified. Yet threaded through this catalogue of strain was a firm insistence on resilience. Nigerians, he argued, have continued to endure and adapt, expressing themselves not only through protest or complaint, but through work, enterprise, and a stubborn conviction that tomorrow need not be a repetition of today.

This framing mattered. It acknowledged hardship without normalizing it, and resilience without romanticizing suffering. More importantly, it returned responsibility to leadership. Public expectations, Akpabio cautioned, have not diminished with time; they have sharpened.

Security, inevitably, commanded attention. The Senate President welcomed ongoing military cooperation between Nigeria and the United States as part of a broader effort to confront terrorism and safeguard stability. Yet strategy did not eclipse humanity. His condolences to families bereaved by insecurity were measured but sincere, underscoring a truth often obscured by briefings and statistics: security is not an abstraction, but the difference between return and absence, between continuity and grief.

Equally sobering was the warning that as many as 35 million Nigerians may face hunger in the coming year. This was not treated as a distant projection to be acknowledged and deferred, but as an imperative demanding legislative urgency, rigorous oversight, and collaboration. Food security, in this context, is not charity; it is statecraft.

As the political season approaches with its familiar excesses, Akpabio’s appeal for civility and restraint was timely. Democracy, he implied, is not weakened by competition but by recklessness; not threatened by ambition but by the abandonment of responsibility. National unity, he warned, must never become collateral damage in the contest for power.

The address also made deliberate space for Nigerians whose lives remain suspended in captivity within their own country. Akpabio urged continued remembrance and prayer, resisting the political impulse to move on too quickly. Progress that ignores unresolved pain, he suggested, is progress in name only.

Threaded through the address was an endorsement of the Renewed Hope Programme of the Tinubu administration—not as a panacea, but as a collective undertaking requiring patience, discipline, and cooperation. Hope, in this telling, is not sentiment; it is work.

Then came the central fact. With less than one year and five months remaining, the Tenth Senate has entered its final stretch. Akpabio stated this plainly, without theatrics. The final stretch, he argued, is where participation yields to performance—where urgency must be embraced without panic, reform pursued without recklessness, and productivity demanded without compromising standards.

What followed was a concise legislative philosophy. The months ahead must be reform-driven. Laws passed now must strengthen institutions, secure lives and property, unlock growth, and restore confidence in the Nigerian state. There was a pointed warning against legislative clutter and symbolic excess. History, Akpabio reminded his colleagues, is unimpressed by volume; it is persuaded by value.

He described the task ahead as institutional housekeeping: clearing bottlenecks, completing what was begun, and leaving behind laws that function rather than frustrate. The imagery was modest, but the implication was serious. Governance, at its best, is stewardship rather than spectacle.

The vision outlined was ambitious yet restrained: a Nigeria more governable than it was met; more just than it was found; more hopeful than it was entrusted to this generation of lawmakers. Institutions stronger than individuals. Laws that serve rather than burden. It was nation-building language—and an invitation to judgment.

Practicalities were not ignored. The budget, Akpabio noted, requires rigorous scrutiny, responsible passage, and faithful implementation. Oversight should correct rather than merely criticize. Collaboration with the Executive remains essential, grounded in constitutional responsibility rather than convenience.

Perhaps the most demanding reminder was the simplest. Senators, he said, are the ears, the eyes, and the legislative voice of Nigerians. It was not grandiose. It was exacting.

As the address concluded, the themes of time and memory returned. The clock is moving. The nation is watching. History is recording. This, Akpabio insisted, is not a moment for anxiety but for purpose. When the Tenth Senate reaches the end of its tenure, let it be remembered not as a body that slowed near the finish, but one that accelerated.

In many respects, the address captured the tone Akpabio has sought to establish since assuming the Senate presidency: stability over spectacle, substance over noise, legacy over applause. Whether the Senate finishes strong will depend not on rhetoric, but on deeds. As a declaration of intent, however, this was a serious one.

The final stretch has begun! Behold the hour cometh! The work remains unfinished. The trust has been acknowledged; it now awaits to be honoured. In the end, nations remember less what was promised at the threshold, and more what was delivered before the door finally closed.

•Rt Hon Eseme Eyiboh, mnipr, is Special Adviser on Media and Publicity and Official Spokesperson to the President of the Senate.