Roads, Promises and South-South: Has Umahi Failed Tinubu?

For a government that has made infrastructure one of the defining pillars of President Bola Tinubu’s Renewed Hope Agenda, the condition of some of the most important highways in South-South geo-political zone presents an uncomfortable political and administrative question: has the Minister of Works, David Umahi, failed to deliver the road transformation expected of him in the region? Iyobosa Uwugiaren writes.

A baby cried through the night as exhausted passengers waited helplessly on a failed section of the Benin-Warri Highway. Pregnant women sat in vehicles that could not move. Families travelling from Benin City to Asaba—for what should have been an ordinary journey—found themselves trapped for hours and, in some cases, days, as mud, potholes, broken pavement and stranded heavy-duty trucks turned the highway into a nightmare.

For passengers, there was no political theory in that moment. No argument about whether “Edo is shining” or not. No argument about contracts, budgets or procurement could explain why a journey between major cities in the South-South had become a test of endurance.

There was only the road—and the inability of the President Bola Tinubu-led government to make it passable.

The ordeal of these passengers in recent days provides a powerful human face to a widening infrastructure crisis across some of the most important highways linking Edo, Delta and neighbouring states. The Benin-Warri Road, Benin-Asaba Road, Benin-Auchi Road, Agbor-Urhonigbe-Abraka Road, and Benin-Agbor Bypass have become symbols of a problem that is increasingly difficult for the federal government to explain away.

At the centre of the controversy is the Minister of Works, David Umahi, who is said to have inherited a road network badly damaged by years of underinvestment. But more than three years into the Tinubu administration, the question confronting the minister is no longer simply whether he inherited a difficult portfolio. It is whether Umahi’s response has been adequate and whether the visible condition of strategic highways, especially in the South-South, represents a failure of delivery that ultimately reflects on President Tinubu. The answer, increasingly, appears difficult to avoid.

The stories coming from the Benin-Warri corridor are particularly disturbing because they demonstrate that road failure is not an abstract infrastructure statistic.

When passengers are trapped for days, the consequences can include missed medical appointments, food and water shortages, lost business, vehicle breakdowns and severe psychological distress.

For pregnant women, babies, elderly passengers and people travelling for medical emergencies, a gridlocked and impassable highway can become a matter of personal safety.

Witnesses have described the Mosogar-Oghara section of the Benin-Warri Highway as being in an extremely poor state, with motorists experiencing prolonged delays and vehicles becoming trapped in failed portions of the road. Delta State Governor, Hon. Sheriff Oborevwori was said to have been compelled to approve emergency repairs on the section in July after the crisis worsened.

Development experts said intervention may have provided temporary relief, but it raises an uncomfortable question for the federal government: why should a strategic federal highway deteriorate so badly that a state government has to step in with emergency measures?

The question is especially relevant because the road is not an obscure rural route. The Benin-Warri Highway is a major economic artery linking Edo and Delta and carrying commercial traffic across the South-South.

It therefore suggests that a government that wants to lower the cost of doing business cannot afford to allow one of its major transport corridors to become a parking lot.

There is a tendency among government information officers to describe bad roads as an inconvenience. That description is no longer sufficient. A family trapped overnight on a highway is not merely experiencing inconvenience. A pregnant woman unable to reach her destination is not merely delayed. A baby spending hours inside a stationary vehicle in the middle of a road crisis is not a statistic. These are failures with human consequences.

The horrific accounts of passengers spending days on failed sections should therefore change the way the road crisis is discussed. It should no longer be treated simply as a dispute between government officials and contractors. It is a public welfare issue. It has also exposed the gap between Abuja and the experience of ordinary citizens.

Go to Abuja, and road projects are discussed in kilometres, contract sums, certificates and completion percentages. On the road, citizens measure government performance differently: How long did it take me to get home? Did my vehicle break down? Did my pregnant wife reach the hospital? That is the real report card.

To be fair, some public commentators said it would be wrong to suggest that Umahi has ignored the South-South completely. According to them, the federal government has commenced or supported major reconstruction projects in the region. They point to the 125-kilometre Benin-Asaba Expressway, which was formally flagged off for reconstruction in March, 2025. The Works Ministry has also repeatedly inspected projects, summoned contractors and threatened sanctions where work has been considered unsatisfactory.

The minister has also argued on several occasions that some projects are complicated by funding arrangements, concession agreements, inherited contractual obligations and technical challenges.

Those explanations may have merit. But they become less convincing when road users continue to suffer for prolonged periods without seeing a decisive improvement.

President Tinubu and his minister cannot be judged only by the number of projects they inherited or launched. They must ultimately be judged by whether citizens can use those roads safely and efficiently. The Benin-Asaba Highway illustrates this contradiction. On paper, it is a road under reconstruction. In reality, motorists continue to encounter difficult stretches, construction-related congestion and flooding. And this creates a dangerous communication gap for the Tinubu administration.

Government officials can legitimately say: “The road is being reconstructed.” The motorist can respond: “But I am still trapped on it.”

To be sure, both statements can be true. Yet only one describes the immediate experience of the citizen. The problem is that infrastructure projects have political value only when they produce tangible improvement. A construction site cannot permanently substitute for a functioning highway.

The Benin-Auchi Road tells a similar story. The federal government has recognised the importance of the route and has previously directed contractors to accelerate work. Umahi has even threatened contract revocation on some problematic projects. But warnings are not roads. Contractors can be summoned. Deadlines can be announced. Inspections can be conducted. Photographs can be taken. But at the end of the process, motorists still need a road they can drive on. That is the point at which President Tinubu and his minister’s performance must ultimately be measured.

The Benin-Agbor Bypass has added another layer to the controversy. Recent protests by residents and motorists over the state of the bypass demonstrate that public frustration is becoming more organised. People who might previously have complained individually are now demanding visible government intervention. This is politically important.

A pothole can be ignored. A complaint can be dismissed. But a crowd of motorists and residents protesting the condition of a major highway is much harder to ignore. It suggests that the road has become a symbol of a wider feeling: that the South-South is not receiving the urgency that its economic importance deserves.

For many analysts, the strongest argument against Umahi is not that he has done nothing. It is that what has been done has not yet translated into sufficient relief for road users on several critical South-South corridors.

This is where Umahi’s problem becomes President Tinubu’s problem. The President campaigned on renewed hope and has repeatedly emphasised infrastructure development as a pathway to economic growth.

But if passengers are spending days stranded on federal highways, the public will inevitably ask what happened to that promise.

The political responsibility ultimately rests with the administration as a whole. But Umahi occupies the front line because he is the minister responsible for federal roads.

And the recent intervention by Senator Adams Oshiomhole makes the matter even more politically sensitive. Oshiomhole, the Deputy Director-General (Mobilization) of Tinubu Presidential Campaign Organisation, a prominent member of the ruling All Progressives Congress and former governor of Edo State, has publicly raised concerns about the condition of major roads in the state and questioned the priorities surrounding federal road projects.

His criticism matters because it cannot easily be dismissed as opposition propaganda. It comes from within the political establishment supporting Tinubu.

The South-South’s highways are therefore becoming a test of the Tinubu administration’s capacity to convert promises into results. The issue is not whether Umahi has inherited difficult roads. The issue is whether the government has responded with sufficient urgency.

Indeed, a pregnant woman stranded on a highway does not have the luxury of waiting for a five-year infrastructure plan. A baby trapped in a stationary vehicle does not understand contractual disputes. A truck driver losing days on a failed road cannot recover the cost simply because government says reconstruction is underway. These people experience government through the road.

That is why the recent horrible reports of passengers spending days on failed sections should serve as a wake-up call. President Tinubu must move beyond announcements and demonstrate measurable results. Emergency repairs must be deployed where roads become impassable.

Construction must be accelerated. Contractors must be held to enforceable standards. Temporary traffic arrangements must protect motorists while major reconstruction continues. And the Ministry of Works must communicate honestly about timelines and obstacles.

Otherwise, the danger is that the story of Nigeria’s infrastructure renewal will increasingly be contradicted by the experience of Nigerians stranded on its highways.

For Umahi, the question is no longer simply whether projects exist on government spreadsheets. It is whether people can get home.

For President Tinubu, the question is even bigger. If passengers—including babies and pregnant women—can spend days trapped on major federal highways in the South-South, can the government credibly say that its promise of Renewed Hope has reached the roads?

Until those highways become reliably passable, the answer from the stranded passengers may be more powerful than any government statement.