Those who spent years relentlessly criticizing Senator SERIAKE HENRY DICKSON during his eight-year tenure as Governor of Bayelsa State (2012–2020) often presented themselves as the moral conscience of the state. They accused him of everything: underperformance, nepotism, poor infrastructure delivery, high debt profile, over-bloated civil service, and even personal extravagance. Many of these critics swore that virtually anyone else picked from the streets of Yenagoa would have done far better with the same resources.
Yet, time has proved to be the most impartial judge.
Since Dickson left office in February 2020, Bayelsa has had a new governor from the same political party (PDP), operating under significantly better financial conditions: the removal of fuel subsidy (which increased FAAC allocations), higher oil prices for much of the period, 13% oil derivation arrears paid to the state, and no major global pandemic disrupting governance. In short, the successor inherited a cleaner slate and more money than Dickson ever had, especially in his second term when oil prices collapsed and COVID-19 struck.
The result? Many objective observers now concede that several projects and policies Dickson initiated or completed are still the most visible legacies in the state years later:
The Bayelsa International Airport (which critics mocked as a “white elephant” while it was under construction) is today the pride of the state and the only functional airport in the entire South-South built by a state government in recent times.
The three senatorial roads (Yenagoa-Oporoma, Sagbama-Ekeremor, Nembe-Brass) that were flagged off and substantially executed under Dickson remain the boldest road infrastructure push in the history of the state.
The diagnostic centre, drug mart, and upgrades to the Niger Delta University Teaching Hospital are still referenced as high points in health infrastructure.
The civil service reforms (though painful and unpopular at the time) cleaned up a payroll that was riddled with ghost workers and unsustainable wage bills.
Meanwhile, some of the loudest critics who finally got power—or got close to it—have either:
Gone silent when confronted with the same challenges they once dismissed as “excuses.”
Performed dismally in the positions they eventually occupied (commissioners, local government chairmen, advisers, etc.).
Become embroiled in scandals far worse than anything they accused Dickson of.
Quietly admitted in private that governance is far more complex than press statements and Facebook posts.
It is now a common saying in Bayelsa political circles: “Many of those who insulted Dickson every day are the same people begging to be appointed into boards or given contracts today, because they have seen that running a state with eight local governments, difficult terrain, and militant agitation is not child’s play.”
Perfection is not expected of any leader, but consistency and sincerity are. Those who turned criticism of Dickson into a daily profession owed the people the same energy of scrutiny for subsequent administrations. The fact that many of them have either mellowed, switched sides for patronage, or simply vanished from public discourse speaks volumes.
Moral of the story: It is easy to throw stones from the outside. When you finally enter the room you were criticizing, the same stones often hit you first. Dickson was far from flawless, but many of his harshest critics have since proven—by their silence, hypocrisy, or outright failure in office—that they were never the better alternatives they claimed to be. In many cases, they have performed worse, or would have, if given half the chance.
Hon. Obubo koripamo Davies
Founder RAINBOW NATION
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