There is a counsel Chief Terkula Suswam, Zege Iwanger I Tiv (Great Illumination of the Tiv) and an authority on Diplomatic History, once gave the Tiv: celebrate whenever one of their own achieves something remarkable or acquires something valuable. By celebrating such accomplishments, he argued, the community would attract blessings and create opportunities for more of its sons and daughters to be celebrated.
It is a counsel worth revisiting, particularly at a time when society appears increasingly uncomfortable with people whose achievements do not fit conventional expectations.
Today, people are often judged not by their track records but by their backgrounds, academic qualifications, social standing, public visibility and even whether others like their faces. Those who cannot explain another person’s success are quick to attribute it to rituals, questionable connections or some mysterious advantage.
The irony is that many who dismiss others for lacking academic qualifications are not professors themselves. When it comes to business, networking, strategic thinking and the ability to reach people who matter, they often have little to show.
There is also the mentality that anything not initiated by oneself, a friend or someone from whom one stands to benefit must be wrong. This attitude has become a stumbling block even in governance, where some officials would rather allow an opportunity to waste away than allow another person to take the credit.
It is the same mentality that makes people who have never attempted anything believe that everyone else is simply seated. Someone who cannot make money imagines that everyone who has money must have acquired it through rituals or shady dealings. It is like raising chickens and inventing the doctrine that women must not eat eggs, apparently to protect one’s own supply.
This is the background against which the political relevance of Ternenge Moses, popularly dismissed as the “mechanic from Ishangev-Ya”, should be understood.
That a man from a relatively unknown background, whose occupation is popularly associated with changing engine oil in vehicles, has emerged as one of Fr. Hyacinth Alia’s most consequential political strategists is apparently difficult for some people to comprehend.
But rather than ask why Moses, the more useful question should be: What does he bring to the table, and why has he earned the confidence of those who matter?
Surprisingly, no one seems to care where he changes engine oil. That may not be the point but I should think what matters is how a man with such an unassuming public profile has managed to establish relationships, build access and position himself to intervene when critical decisions are being made.
Moses’ critics may question his command of English, academic pedigree or social background. But political influence is not an English proficiency examination. Neither is it a competition for the most impressive certificate or the loudest public profile.
The important thing is whether a person can reach the right people, communicate the right message, build the necessary relationships and deliver when the situation demands it.
Available indications suggest that few Tiv political actors enjoy the kind of access attributed to Moses. This is not necessarily a function of the offices he occupies or the titles attached to his name. Rather, it points to a different kind of political capital: Relationships, trust, strategic timing and the ability to get things moving.
And he is beginning to demonstrate why that matters.
The Tinubu/Alia Campaign Council is a major political statement. Its emergence and structure present a significant opportunity to reorganise political forces in Benue ahead of the 2027 elections. It is also a test of whether the Governor’s political machinery can bring together interests that have, until recently, appeared irreconcilable.
The presidential campaign directive requiring federal appointees and national officers of the All Progressives Congress (APC) to return to their respective states and mobilise support for President Bola Tinubu (PBAT) makes the arrangement even more significant.
The President does not have to travel to every state before his campaign can gather momentum. The responsibility lies with the people on the ground, particularly those occupying strategic positions in government and the party. They are expected to deploy their influence, networks and political resources to secure support for the President.
This is where the Tinubu/Alia arrangement becomes particularly interesting.
The Ubokotis and Pelengis are, by this structure, effectively yoked together. Those who have been insisting that there should be no ticket for Fr. Alia now face a political reality: The campaign structure requires them to work together in pursuit of a common electoral objective.
Would they stay away from campaigning for PBAT because of their reservations about Fr. Alia? Would they openly undermine a structure that brings the President’s re-election project and the Governor’s second-term ambition together?
Either choice comes with political consequences.
For some of the Ubokotis, the situation is even more delicate, considering that their political fortunes are hanging in the balance because of ongoing court cases. Would they consider the implications of alienating the Governor and seek accommodation within the emerging arrangement, or dismiss the entire exercise as inconsequential?
These are the political calculations that make the campaign council more than an ordinary inauguration. They require tact, negotiation, bridge-building and an understanding of the interests at play.
Perhaps this is where Moses’ value becomes most apparent.
He is not a politician who must be seen everywhere or heard commenting on every issue. He is rarely at the centre of public political arguments, particularly outside his Kwande home. He is not always in Benue, and his interventions are not necessarily on matters at the periphery.
His approach appears to be one of strategic engagement rather than constant visibility. He may be absent from the daily political noise, but that does not mean he is absent when consequential decisions are being taken.
Political relevance is not measured by how frequently one’s name appears in the newspapers or how many people gather around one’s convoy. Sometimes, the person who matters most is the one who can make a phone call, secure an audience, reconcile competing interests or offer a solution when others have exhausted their options.
To have earned Fr. Alia’s confidence, coming from a relatively unknown background and without the conventional trappings of political importance, makes Moses a subject worth studying.
The primitive assumption that the son of a nobody cannot sit at the table with kings should have been discarded long ago. Background should not be a prison, and an ordinary occupation should not become a ceiling on ambition or achievement.
There is a lesson here for Benue’s political establishment. Rather than dismissing people because they do not fit the conventional description of political heavyweights, the state should learn to identify, encourage and deploy people with useful connections, strategic capacity and the ability to solve problems.
The ongoing campaigns will test the value of such people. Campaigns are not won by the number of titles on a list or the length of an inauguration speech. They are won through mobilisation, persuasion, negotiation, grassroots organisation and the ability to bring seemingly opposing interests under one political roof.
Moses Ternenge may not be the most visible figure in Benue politics. He may not have the conventional pedigree that impresses the political establishment. But his growing relevance raises a fundamental question: What is the value of public prominence if it cannot translate into access, influence and results when they matter most?
For now, he has tacitly brought the Ubokotis and Pelengis into a common political arrangement. Whether this translates into genuine cooperation, effective mobilisation and electoral gains remains to be seen.
The campaigns are underway. The political equations are changing, and the Tinubu/Alia Campaign Council provides an early opportunity to test the strength of the new arrangement.
The answer may not be found in the arguments of those who dismiss Moses as a nobody. It may be found in the political outcomes of the assignment he has helped shape.
For a man who is hardly seen, the moment to demonstrate why he matters may have arrived.
All eyes are therefore on IB Square, venue of the inauguration of the Tinubu/Alia Campaign Council.
