
By Christian ABURIME
Dr. Anselm C. Onuorah’s new book, ‘The Audacity to Transform’, arrives at a pivotal moment in contemporary political discourse in Nigeria, promising neither hagiography nor hatchet job, but something far more insightful: a rigorous, front-row assessment of governance in action.
Subtitled “A Front-row Testimony on the Ongoing Development in Anambra by Gov. Chukwuma Charles Soludo’s Administration,” the work positions itself as both participant observation and analytical treatise.
The audacity of the book’s title echoes former American President Barack Obama’s similar phrasing in his bestseller “The Audacity of Hope”, evoking the hope that transformative change requires not just competence but courage, the willingness to challenge entrenched interests, to reimagine possibilities, and to persist despite obstacles. Whether Governor Soludo’s administration embodies this audacity, and whether it has translated boldness into tangible improvements in the lives of ordinary Anambra residents, are questions that Dr. Onuorah’s book seeks to answer.
As a central proposition, the book posits that Governor Soludo’s administration represents a transformative approach to state governance that rests on an examination of several policy pillars: infrastructure development, healthcare reform, educational advancement, security initiatives, social welfare programmes, and what Onuorah terms “the total optimization of the state software ecosystem.”
This last phrase merits attention, for it suggests an understanding of governance that transcends only the physical. The reference to local government and community reforms as part of this “software ecosystem” indicates an awareness that sustainable transformation requires not just roads and hospitals, but reconfigured social architecture, the often-invisible systems of values, capacities, and institutional relationships that determine whether concrete achievements endure or crumble.
What distinguishes Onuorah’s approach, at least in its stated ambition, is the explicit rejection of “simplistic narratives of success or failure.” This epistemological humility is refreshing in a political context often characterised by polarised extremes: the uncritical praise of political supporters or the blanket dismissal of opposition voices By promising to analyse “both the achievements and the shortcomings encountered,” the author shows an understanding that governance in complex, resource-constrained environments rarely produces unambiguous outcomes. The question, of course, is whether the book delivers on this promise or whether proximity to power inevitably tints perception.
The analytical framework outlined in the book synopsis is commendably explicit. By assessing policies against the governor’s manifesto, governance indicators like transparency and accountability, economic metrics, social indicators, and security outcomes, Onuorah establishes multiple accountability touchstones. This multidimensional approach acknowledges what too many political analyses often ignore: that governance can not be evaluated through a single lens. An administration might excel in infrastructure while struggling with security or advance healthcare while facing challenges in fiscal transparency. The complexity of governance demands complex evaluation.
Particularly intriguing is the book’s stated focus on “value reorientation” and “human capacity development” as mechanisms for bridging socioeconomic divides. These phrases could easily dissolve into platitudes, but if substantively explored, they touch on fundamental questions about the nature of development itself. Is poverty primarily a resource problem or a capability problem? Can government policy genuinely reshape social values, or does it merely respond to them? How does an administration balance immediate material needs with longer-term investments in human potential? These are not academic questions; they determine whether development initiatives create dependency or agency, whether they entrench existing power structures or genuinely redistribute opportunity.
The invocation of Chinua Achebe’s famous diagnosis, that “the problem of Nigeria is simply a problem of wrong leadership”, positions the Soludo administration as a potential counterexample, a demonstration that effective leadership can indeed catalyse transformation. This framing is both ambitious and provocative. Achebe’s critique was fundamentally about character and vision, about leaders who serve themselves rather than their people, who lack the moral imagination to envision a better society and the discipline to realise it. By suggesting that Governor Soludo’s “determined leadership” offers a remedy to this chronic failure, Onuorah places significant weight on the governor’s shoulders as a leader to emulate by others.
While acknowledging “external forces and constraints that invariably shape governance,” the emphasis on leadership as the primary variable risks underestimating the structural impediments to transformation in Nigeria’s federal system. State governors operate within constitutional, fiscal, and political constraints that often limit their autonomy. Revenue allocation formulas, federal control of security architecture, the influence of national political parties, ethnic and communal dynamics, and the legacy of institutional decay all circumscribe what even the most capable and well-intentioned leader can achieve.
Also, the book’s contextualisation within “the socio-political landscape of Anambra and the broader Nigerian context” is essential but complex. Anambra occupies a distinctive position in Nigeria’s southeast: economically vibrant, with a substantial diaspora community that remits significant resources, a strong commercial tradition, and relatively high educational attainment. These advantages create opportunities but also challenges: high expectations, complex stakeholder dynamics, and the perennial question of whether entrepreneurial energy can be channelled towards collective development or whether it remains atomised in individual wealth accumulation?. How the Soludo administration navigates this particular social ecology, whether it mobilises Anambra’s considerable human and financial capital for public good or struggles against centrifugal forces, will determine the transferability of any lessons to other Nigerian states with different endowments and challenges.
The author’s stated aim to “stimulate further discussions on the challenges of leadership and policy implementation in a dynamic and complex environment” suggests that he understands his work as contributing to a larger conversation rather than offering conclusive verdicts. This is appropriate. Governance is not a destination but an ongoing negotiation between aspiration and constraint, between what is desirable and what is possible. The most valuable political analyses are those that illuminate this negotiation, that show how decisions are made under uncertainty, how trade-offs are managed, and how initial visions are adapted when they collide with reality.
In the final analysis, if “The Audacity to Transform” succeeds in its stated ambitions, it will offer something rare in Nigerian political literature: a granular, evidence-based examination of state governance that neither devolves into partisan advocacy nor retreats into cynical dismissal.
It will provide a case study for testing whether technocratic competence such as possessed by Prof. Chukwuma Charles Soludo, who all honesty has performed credibly well, when combined with political will and favourable conditions, can indeed produce measurable improvements in citizens’ lives; or whether the structural impediments to development in Nigeria remain too formidable for even capable leadership to overcome. Most importantly, it will contribute to the essential but underdeveloped practice of holding African leaders accountable not through rhetorical denunciation but through careful, criteria-based evaluation of their actual performance.
This book will be formally launched tomorrow, October 10, 2025, at the International Convention Centre, Awka, Anambra State