Golden jubilees of a state like Oyo are meant to unite, to provoke reflection, and to remind a people that despite differences, they share a common journey. Sadly, Oyo State’s 50th anniversary celebration appears to be doing the exact opposite. Instead of serving as a rallying point for collective pride, it has exposed a familiar and troubling pattern: exclusion dressed up as celebration.
From available indications, the anniversary has been curated in a way that centres power, attention and resources around a narrow axis, while other zones, interests and stakeholders in the state are pushed to the margins. This is not merely an administrative oversight; it is a political and moral failure. A state that prides itself on history, civilisation and diversity cannot afford to commemorate its golden age by sidelining significant segments of its own people.
Oyo State is not Ibadan alone. It is not one senatorial district, one political tendency, or one social class. It is Oke-Ogun with its vast agricultural belt and long history of neglect. It is Ogbomoso with its academic and commercial contributions. It is Oyo town, Ibarapa, and other communities whose sweat and loyalty have sustained the state across decades. A 50th anniversary that does not visibly and meaningfully include these zones is not a state celebration; it is a selective jamboree.
Equally worrying is the political monochrome of the anniversary. Milestones such as this should rise above partisan comfort zones. Instead, the celebration seems to reinforce the dominance of certain political interests while muting others such as past leaders, opposition voices, technocrats, traditional institutions, private sector players, and civil society actors who have all shaped Oyo’s journey in one way or another. History does not belong to incumbents alone, and anniversaries should not be reduced to platforms for political branding.
The economic exclusion is just as glaring. One would expect a golden jubilee to stimulate inclusive economic activity across the state in the areas of tourism, local enterprise, culture, crafts, agriculture, and creative industries spread across zones. Yet, the structure and geography of the celebration suggest a concentration that benefits a few locations and actors, leaving others as distant spectators to a party funded by collective resources.
Symbolism matters in governance. Who is invited, who speaks, where events are held, and whose stories are told all send powerful signals. At 50, Oyo State had the opportunity to tell a rich, plural story of resilience, disagreement, sacrifice and shared destiny. Instead, the narrative appears trimmed to fit convenience and control. This is what makes the moment particularly painful: anniversaries are not just about the past; they set the tone for the future. A non-inclusive celebration quietly announces a non-inclusive vision. It tells excluded zones and interests that their relevance is seasonal, their contributions optional, and their presence negotiable.
Oyo State has a prideful anthem today because a former First Lady, Dr Mrs Florence Ajimobi, had foresight and was innovative to ensure she had the anthem composed for the state. We recite the anthem with glee at every state function now. Doesn’t she deserve recognition on this milestone?
There is still time to correct course. True celebration is expansive, not defensive. It listens as much as it speaks. It travels, it remembers, it honours broadly. Oyo at 50 deserves town-hall-style engagements across zones, cultural showcases that rotate locations, recognition of unsung contributors from all walks of life, and a deliberate effort to heal old political and social fractures rather than deepen them.
A golden jubilee should leave citizens feeling seen, counted and proud. Anything less is not just a missed opportunity, it is a wrong way to celebrate a milestone that belongs to all.
