Nyesom Wike is a name that has shaped much of Nigeria’s political landscape in recent years. He played a crucial role in the rise of President Bola Tinubu, and for a long time, he has dominated the political scene in Rivers State. He has single-handedly ousted nearly all significant figures in the state, turning himself into a powerful force. Whether battling his own party, the PDP, or fighting his successor into submission, Wike has always been at the center of conflict. But the pressing question now is: what will become of him?

For some, Wike is a symbol of boldness and capability. For others, he represents chaos and excess. As a neutral observer, however, his political career offers a compelling study in power dynamics.

Wike was pivotal in President Tinubu’s emergence, and for years, he has ruled over Rivers like a political sovereign. His aggressive tactics — fighting against his party, dismantling political opposition, and asserting dominance over his successor — have kept him firmly at the top. Yet, despite his apparent power, one can’t help but wonder if Wike truly enjoys peace of mind. His life seems like an endless series of battles. From Rivers to Ibadan, Abuja to Imo, he is constantly on the move, often singing “agreement is agreement,” but forgetting that politics is essentially about negotiation and compromise.

There’s no doubt that Wike is a sharp strategist, often outsmarting his adversaries in every room. He understands the game and often creates countermoves to stay ahead. His control over Governor Fubara was initially strong, with pressure and inducement keeping him in check. But when Fubara joined the APC, the power dynamics shifted. Wike’s approach, which had been so effective in the past, no longer had the same impact. Politics punishes those who believe in permanent control. Once Fubara escaped Wike’s grip, Wike’s strategies began to lose their potency, and the battlefield changed.

Now, we are witnessing a new political clash. Wike is increasingly at odds with the leadership of the APC, especially with the party’s National Secretary, a man not unfamiliar with political warfare. When the APC National Secretary publicly called for Wike to resign as a minister in Tinubu’s government, it signaled a deeper issue: a contest for influence. This is about control — who gets to call the shots, who is allowed to wield power, and the anxiety within a coalition built more on convenience than shared values.

Wike represents the dilemma of power without full institutional backing. While he may wield significant influence, he is not fully integrated into the political structure of the ruling party. He has proven invaluable to Tinubu’s success, but his political style constantly reminds those in power that he is not one of them. There is a fundamental difference in any political organization between being an ally and being a true stakeholder. Allies help you win; stakeholders define the direction of the government after victory.

Wike has always positioned himself as both an ally and a stakeholder, creating an environment where his loyalty is indispensable, but his control is undeniable. He has established himself as a figure of territorial command, controlling Rivers, punishing disloyalty, and rewarding submission. This strategy works when you fully control the structure, but when you don’t, it becomes a liability. The APC leadership cannot tolerate an external force that undermines its internal cohesion. When a party feels that its own leadership is being bypassed, it will prioritize institutional survival over individual loyalty.

Wike’s situation now exemplifies the risk of wielding power without a firm foundation. Informal influence can sometimes outweigh formal power, but it is fragile, depending on the tolerance of those in formal positions of power. Once the ruling party begins to feel that Wike’s methods are creating factions, undermining loyalty, or even embarrassing party officials, they will act to neutralize his influence.

So, what will become of Wike? It’s unlikely his downfall will come from a single, decisive blow. Strongmen often fade slowly from relevance, their influence gradually eroded. His political life could end with quiet isolation, where he remains in office but becomes sidelined in terms of real influence. His access and political value could diminish as the presidency and the party no longer rely on his battles. Alternatively, he could be forced into full submission to the ruling party structure, sacrificing his independence to stay relevant.

It’s also possible that Wike could adapt. He is no political novice, and his instinct for survival has helped him rise. But such adaptation would require a dramatic shift in his approach. He would need to evolve from ruling by fear to managing coalitions, from territorial warfare to compromise. If he can make that shift, he might still survive. But time is running out.