I initially thought that public resistance to the nomination of the former INEC Chairman, Prof. Mahmood Yakubu, was the loudest storm of the season, until I witnessed the tidal wave that greeted the nomination of Reno Omokri. It unfolded almost like a political drama, beginning with a short but explosive remark from a netizen, Dr. Mohammed, who wrote that the nomination that “pains” him most was Reno’s thereby describing him as a “deep-skinned hypocrite.” Whether or not that was the first shot fired, it was certainly the moment I became aware of the outrage melting across platforms like wildfire. Soon after, I stumbled on a protest letter addressed to the Senate: a document that both condemned Reno and attempted to canonize its author as a patriot defending Nigeria’s global reputation.
The letter, written by Denge Joseph Onoh, the former lawmaker and Southeast spokesman to President Bola Tinubu was a sweeping indictment. Titled “Strong Protest Against the Confirmation of Bernadette Reno Omokri as Ambassador-Designate of the Federal Republic of Nigeria”, the letter accused Omokri of everything from undermining Nigeria’s international standing to launching a “vicious and internationally publicized campaign” against President Tinubu. Onoh cited the familiar allegations: Reno’s past descriptions of Tinubu as a “drug lord,” his claims of possessing foreign documents linking the president to narcotics, his role in protest movements like #HarassBuhariOutOfLondon, and his involvement in the controversy surrounding the so-called “Mike Arnold” documents. To Onoh, appointing Reno was nothing short of diplomatic self-sabotage, a decision capable of corroding the nation’s moral fibre.
Other critics echoed the sentiment. Political groups like the DDF and OYC called for Reno’s immediate removal from the list, arguing that a man of such “provocative rhetoric” should never represent a multi-ethnic nation abroad. Public voices like Charly Boy and Aisha Yesufu insisted the role of an ambassador should be reserved for figures capable of radiating unity, not stoking conflict. Media commentaries warned that Tinubu’s government risked validating the very accusations Reno once hurled at him. Across social spaces, users dug up clips of Reno proclaiming that he would “never work with Tinubu”, waving them as proof of duplicity.
The story only grew stranger when an internal crisis erupted in the Senate. According to reports, the Senate WhatsApp group which is normally a quiet corridor for official communication was thrown into chaos over disagreements about Omokri. Arguments intensified, accusations flew, and the group was abruptly locked by Senator Osita Ngwu, allegedly to stop further confrontation. His action provoked outrage among colleagues, leading Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan to confront him publicly and demand the restoration of deleted comments. By the time the dust settled, a full-blown factional conflict had emerged, fueled by the question: can a man who once called the president a “drug baron” credibly represent Nigeria?
Yet, while all this noise took centre stage, something else remained largely unexplored: the deeper, more uncomfortable truth about human nature, politics, and the moral evolution of individuals. Many of the criticisms levelled against Reno were anchored on a single word—hypocrisy. But the overuse of this term often reflects a misunderstanding of human psychology. As the social psychologist Jonathan Haidt notes, people are “intuitive creatures, not rational ones,” driven more by emotional impulses than cold logic. We change, we reassess, we reconcile. Sometimes loudly, sometimes awkwardly.
In real life, lovers who once despised each other end up married. Friends who swore never to speak again reunite with deeper affection. Two bitter ex-wives discover in time that misunderstanding, pride, or misjudgment played a bigger role than malice. Politics is not exempt from this rhythm of human contradictions. Allegiance, aversion, admiration tend to shift as perceptions shift. To condemn someone for changing their mind is to deny the dynamic, evolving nature of human judgment itself.
And, ironically, those who wield the charge of hypocrisy like a moral whip often carry their own contradictions in silence. I just reminded Dr. Mohammed of the same citizens who fiercely defended the Muslim-Muslim ticket as though no criticism existed under the sun, only to later swing to extreme opposition after perceived political disappointments. If that is not a portrait of selective morality, what is?
Politics, whether we like it or not, is not sustained by permanent enemies but by elastic alliances. Scholars like Robert Axelrod, in his studies on cooperation, argue that long-term systems survive not through hostility but through reciprocity and reconciliation. President Tinubu seems to understand this well. When Olisa Metuh publicly praised him for being the only person who reached out during his illness, it reflected something many Nigerians often overlook: politicians evolve, just as their relationships evolve. Tinubu’s willingness to embrace a former critic like Reno, and Reno’s willingness to appreciate that gesture, speaks less to scandal and more to the possibility of political maturity. In diplomacy, reconciliation is not weakness, it is strategy.
Another argument is that Reno’s online conduct makes him unfit for diplomatic service. This is a valid concern, but not an absolute conclusion. Digital communication today is a battleground of narratives, often dominated by groupthink and polarisation. Reno’s blunt interventions, however uncomfortable have occasionally disrupted harmful stereotypes and exposed blind spots in public reasoning. In a society where political tribes treat their own assumptions as sacred truths, such counter-perspectives, even when abrasive, serve as reminders that no group has a monopoly on wisdom. As the philosopher John Stuart Mill wrote, “He who knows only his own side of the case knows little of that.”
To dismiss Reno entirely because he unsettles emotions is to ignore the very structure of democratic discourse, which depends on dissent as much as agreement.
Furthermore, the claim that his posture disqualifies him from diplomatic duty ignores the successes of other outspoken political actors who later thrived as diplomats. Winston Churchill, before becoming one of the world’s most celebrated statesmen, was considered brash, unpredictable, and excessively confrontational. Diplomacy has evolved. Public diplomacy now relies as much on digital influence, communication skill, and diaspora engagement as on stoic conservatism. Reno’s global reach, media literacy, and persuasive capacity are not trivial assets, but modern currency.
His résumé supports this. Born in Warri on January 22, 1974, Reno Omokri served as Special Assistant on New Media to President Goodluck Jonathan, managed international communications, wrote books on governance and ethics, hosted television programs, and cultivated global networks across politics, religion, and civil society. Whether one loves or loathes him, his capacity for shaping discourse is undeniable. In an era where nations compete fiercely in the marketplace of global narratives, such visibility and communication skill hold strategic value.
His supporters argue that he can excel in public diplomacy, diaspora mobilisation, faith-based engagement, and narrative management, the areas where traditional diplomats are often outpaced by digital actors. They believe his outspokenness is not a flaw but a tool, especially if moderated by the discipline of office. And as behavioural theorists often note, context reshapes conduct; roles transform people.
This reflection is not a defence of Reno Omokri’s nomination, nor is it a dismissal of the legitimate fears raised by critics. It is simply an invitation to look beyond the one-dimensional portrait being circulated. Human character is layered. Political evolution is complex. And, as history repeatedly shows, the story of every public figure is larger than their loudest controversies.
Perhaps the real tragedy of this debate is not Reno himself, but the national tendency to see only one side of every story. Like all of us, Reno Omokri stands at the intersection of flaws and strengths, misjudgments and contributions, conflicts and reconciliations. And in the theatre of Nigerian politics, where enemies become allies overnight and loyalties shift like seasons his journey is neither the strangest nor the most scandalous.
But it is, without doubt, one of the most revealing.
Bagudu can be reached at bagudumohammed15197@gmail.com or on 0703 494 3575.
