‘Like my father, our leaders must be accountable’

On February 13, it would be five decades since the fourth Head of State, General Muhammed, and a Nigerian military leader, known for his dynamic reforms and fight against corruption, was assassinated. As part of activities in his remembrance, his first daughter, Dr. Aisha Muhammed Oyebode, speaks on her father’s impacts and legacies in an interview by an Assistant Editor, EMMANUEL BADEJO. Excerpts

As the daughter of General Murtala Ramat Muhammed and the CEO of the Murtala Muhammed Foundation, what does the 50th anniversary of his passing mean to you personally?

For me, the 50th anniversary of my father’s passing is both deeply personal and profoundly public. Personally, it is a moment of quiet reflection — of remembering him first as a father whose life ended too soon, and whose absence shaped my childhood and my understanding of responsibility. There is still a private grief in that loss, even fifty years on.

But it is also a moment of national reckoning. My father’s life and leadership belong not only to our family, but to Nigeria and to Africa. His time in office was brief, yet it left an enduring imprint because he governed with clarity, urgency, and a deep sense of public duty. This anniversary offers an opportunity to pause, not out of nostalgia, but to ask what his example still asks of us today — about integrity, courage, and service.

As CEO of the Murtala Muhammed Foundation, I see this milestone not simply as a commemoration of the past, but as a bridge to the future. It is a chance to engage a new generation in a conversation about leadership, national purpose, and what it means to serve with principle in difficult times. For me, that is where the meaning of this anniversary truly lies.

For younger Nigerians who did not witness General Murtala Muhammed’s era, how would you briefly describe the essence of his leadership, and why do you believe it remains relevant five decades later?

For younger Nigerians, I would describe my father’s leadership as leadership you could see and feel in everyday life. Things changed quickly and noticeably. Public officials were held to account. Decisions were taken and followed through. Nigeria spoke with confidence on the African stage and was taken seriously. Even if people disagreed with him, they knew where he stood — and they knew that leadership carried consequences. He believed that leadership meant showing up, acting, and accepting responsibility. He did not govern from a distance or hide behind protocol. He moved without excess, spoke plainly, and acted decisively because he believed the country could not afford drift. Time mattered, and delay had costs.

That is why his leadership still matters 50 years later. Many young people today feel leadership is unfamiliar because it often feels remote — visible on screens but not present in their lives. My father’s era reminds us that leadership can be credible; and, real. For young Nigerians, the relevance is simple: leadership should be something you can recognise in action — in fairness, accountability, and follow-through. It should be close enough to affect your daily life, and serious enough to earn your trust. That is the standard his leadership set, and it is a standard worth reclaiming.

In an age of volatile geopolitics, how do you think Africa would have fared with the likes of your late father at the helm of affairs with regard to protecting African sovereignty?

I believe Africa would have approached today’s volatile geopolitical landscape with greater confidence and cohesion if leaders like General Murtala Muhammed were at the helm. What defined his approach was a clear understanding of sovereignty — not as rhetoric, but as the ability to make choices and stand by them. He believed Africa had to speak for itself, align its economic interests with its political values, and resist being treated as a passive arena for external competition. That clarity mattered then, and it matters even more now.

In his time, Nigeria was prepared to use its diplomatic weight and economic leverage in defence of African causes, whether on decolonisation, apartheid, or continental solidarity. Those positions were not cost-free, but they were grounded in principle and backed by action. Africa was not asking for permission to be taken seriously — it was asserting its place. In today’s context of shifting alliances, resource competition, and global uncertainty, that kind of leadership would have emphasised African agency. It would have prioritised cooperation over fragmentation, long-term sovereignty over short-term advantage, and collective bargaining over isolated deals. For younger Africans especially, the lesson is that sovereignty is not abstract. It is protected through leaders who are willing to take clear positions, accept consequences, and insist that Africa’s interests are not negotiable. That is the standard General Muhammed represented — and it remains deeply relevant.

Nigeria has a predominantly young population. How is the Murtala Muhammed Foundation working to connect your father’s legacy with the aspirations and realities of today’s youth?

Nigeria’s youthfulness is not just a demographic fact; it is a responsibility. At the Murtala Muhammed Foundation, our work is very deliberately focused on ensuring that General Murtala Muhammed’s legacy is not frozen in history, but translated into values and opportunities that young people can engage with meaningfully today. We do this in three main ways:

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First: through education and access. Our education initiatives — including scholarships, safe school programmes, and digital learning platforms — are designed to remove the barriers that prevent young people, especially girls and those in fragile communities, from realising their potential. For my father, discipline and opportunity went hand in hand. We reflect that by investing in young people’s capacity, not just their credentials.

Second: through leadership and civic engagement. Programmes such as the Women Power Lunch, WIDEAA, and our policy and leadership forums create spaces where young Nigerians can engage with ideas of service, integrity, and responsibility — not as abstract concepts, but as lived practices. We encourage young people to see leadership not as something distant or elite, but as something they can step into, wherever they are.

Third: through advocacy, storytelling and remembrance that speaks forward. As we mark fifty years since General Muhammed’s passing, our exhibitions, lectures, and dialogues are intentionally framed around questions young people are asking today: about governance, accountability, African agency, and national purpose. The aim is not to ask young Nigerians to imitate the past, but to understand the standards it set — and to decide how they will raise them in their own time.

Ultimately, the Foundation’s role is to act as a bridge — connecting the clarity and courage that defined General Muhammed’s leadership with the energy, creativity, and urgency of Nigeria’s young population. Legacy only matters if it equips the next generation to lead better than the last.

Do you believe Nigeria needs a cultural reset around public service and governance, and can legacy-driven initiatives like this 50th remembrance anniversary contribute meaningfully to such a shift?

Yes, I do believe Nigeria needs a cultural reset around public service and governance — but not one rooted in nostalgia or personality, and certainly not one that imagines a single leader can solve structural problems. What we need is a reset around standards. Public service has to be understood again as a responsibility, not an entitlement; as stewardship, not access. Over time, that understanding has weakened, and when it does, institutions lose credibility and citizens lose trust. Rebuilding that trust requires more than policy reforms — it requires a shared cultural shift in how we think about service, accountability, and leadership.

Legacy-driven initiatives like this 50th remembrance can contribute meaningfully if they are used in the right way. The goal is not to canonise individuals, but to surface the values their leadership embodied and ask whether we still recognise them today. In my father’s case, those values include clarity, discipline, courage, and a willingness to act in the public interest, even when it was uncomfortable. By creating spaces for dialogue, reflection, and learning — especially with young people — remembrance becomes a tool for renewal. It allows us to examine where we are, where we have drifted, and what standards we might choose to reclaim.

In what ways have your father’s values and leadership principles shaped your approach to leadership?

My father’s values have shaped my approach to leadership in ways that are more practical than symbolic. From him, I learned that leadership begins with clarity — being clear about what you stand for and allowing that clarity to guide decisions, especially when choices are difficult. Ambiguity can feel safer in the short term, but it weakens trust over time.

I also learned the importance of accountability. He believed that public responsibility must be visible, and that leaders should be prepared to own both their decisions and their consequences. That lesson has stayed with me across different spaces — whether in philanthropy, business, or policy work — reminding me that credibility is built through consistency, not explanation.

Another principle I absorbed is urgency with purpose. He acted decisively because he understood that delay often deepens problems. In my own leadership, this has translated into a bias for action, while remaining thoughtful about impact. It has taught me that progress rarely comes from waiting for perfect conditions.

Finally, he believed deeply in service beyond self. Leadership, in his view, was not about personal comfort or recognition, but about responsibility to others — to the country, to the community, and to future generations. That perspective continues to ground my work. It reminds me that leadership is not measured by position or visibility, but by whether one’s actions genuinely serve the public good. Those principles have shaped not just how I lead, but why I lead — with intention, seriousness, and a constant awareness that trust is something that must be earned and protected.