He understands that the sabotage was aimed not only at elections but at the soul of his larger project. He insists that politics must not hold governance hostage, that elections may come and go but schools, hospitals, and jobs must remain. He frames his struggle not against individuals but against a culture of waste and cynicism. For this, the gladiators resist him fiercely because his discipline is the mirror in which their indulgence looks ugly. His insistence on accountability exposes their impunity; his focus on development mocks their diversions. They do not oppose him because they doubt his vision but because they fear its success will bury their legacy. Still, the cost of distraction is heavy. Elections twisted into spectacles erode faith in democracy.
Propaganda corrodes confidence, leaving even genuine progress doubted. Rivalries consume time that should heal wounds of poverty and insecurity. In a state as delicate as Zamfara, distractions are not games—they are added wounds.
Fortunately, Dauda sees distractions as stones on a path. They may slow a man’s pace, but they cannot stop his journey. He likens governance to farming: weeds will always compete with crops, yet the diligent farmer knows how to eliminate weeds. He keeps his hands steady, his eyes fixed on the larger project he envisions. History, Dauda knows, remembers not who shouted loudest in the political square but who built most faithfully. The gladiators’ echoes will fade, but the schools, roads, and peace initiatives done by Gamjin Gusau will remain. Like the Gusau River, Dauda flows on. And so he walks forward, carrying Zamfara’s hope. The gladiators stalk and jeer, but he is driven not by their noise but by the silent prayers of mothers, the weary eyes of farmers, the dreams of children. For them, he endures the distractions, knowing that leadership is not about the noise of today but the verdict of tomorrow. Dauda Lawal will succeed insha Allah.