Oseloka Obi: The Lion’s Offspring and Straw Metaphor

In the rough-and-tumble of politics, insults are often hurled like stones in a marketplace quarrel. Political mudslinging is as old as politics itself. From ancient Greece to contemporary Nigeria, rivals have always weaponized ridicule and personal attacks to weaken their opponents. What is new, however in contemporary times, is the weaponization of social media as a battlefield, where trolls, faceless and emboldened by anonymity of digital affordances, launch their arrows without thought or pricks of conscience. But even more intriguing, pernicious, and indeed perplexing in this undeclared asymmetrical warfare is that sometimes, the arrows are not targeted directly at the principal actors themselves. They are hurled instead at the innocent – the tiger’s cub – simply for the ‘crime’ of sharing the bloodline of a political icon. We have seen this in history. Abraham Lincoln was once derided not only for his looks but his children were mocked in newspapers; Barack Obama’s daughters were not spared the vicious gaze of political trolls; and here in Nigeria, the children of some politically-exposed persons sometimes find themselves dragged into a battle they never signed up for. In such cases, the innocence of a child becomes collateral damage in the ceaseless war of political vendettas.

Burrowing through the marrows of history, we recall specific instances of mockery of politicians and whose family members were not spared the vicious gaze and hostile notice of political trolls. In the run-up to the 1860 election and during his presidency, newspapers and cartoons routinely taunted Lincoln as ‘ugly,’ ‘a long-armed Ape,’ and worse. Atlas Obscura documents multiple 19th century papers using exactly those slurs alongside caricatures that exaggerated his physique. Lincoln’s sons, especially Tad, were frequent subjects of public commentary because of their unruly antics in the White House just as the President himself was attacked in the press for indulging them. The White House Historical Association recounts how newspapers lampooned Lincoln for allowing his boys to run about the Executive Mansion and interrupt official business.

In the case of barrack Obama, his daughters were targeted by political trolls, sometimes ironically by a political aide. In 2014, Elizabeth Lauten, communications director to a Republican congressman, posted a Facebook screed scolding Sasha and Malia Obama’s attire and demeanour at a White House turkey-pardon, setting off a chain of bipartisan backlash and her final resignation. Coverage from CBS News, the Los Angeles Times, The New Yorker, and The Guardian record the episode and resignation. Obama daughters drew racist online attacks and fabricated narratives. When Malia Obama announced that she would attend Harvard (2016), racist commentaries suffused online blogs and platforms. AOL News, for instance, reported on slurs that moderators removed. PolitiFact has continually debunked viral hoaxes about Obama daughters, for instance, a false claim 2018 claim that Malia was ‘suspended from Harvard,’ and a 2025 viral post alleging a $2.2 million payment.

Narrowing down homewards to the broader Nigerian context of toxic online politics, research and monitoring groups have documented how information and smear campaigns - often directed at families and associates – are now routine in West African political discourse, including Nigeria. Former Vice President Atiku Abubakar’s son Covid-19 case illustrates how political figures’ children are dragged into battles they knew nothing about. After VP Abubakar disclosed his son’s positive COVID test, social media swirled with false claims and accusatory narratives. Premium Times published the campaign’s clarification, ‘dispelling false narrative’ about his son’s movements. Also, Daily Trust ran a fact-check on rumours about which son attended a rally; while African Arguments described how fake photos and videos were weaponized against Atiku’s son as part of polarized online politics. The CIGI analysis of disinformation’s democratic harms in West Africa and FACTCheckHub’s reporting on coordinated smear tactics during the Nigerian news cycles are quite useful in establishing the climate in which politicians and their close ones are dragged into partisan crossfire. 

These instances speak to historical continuity, digital amplification, and Nigerian specificity, which show how politicians’ children can become vectors for political mudsling and disinformation, and how often they inherit the cruelty directed at their parents. This is precisely the situation confronting Oseloka Obi, son of Peter Obi, who has recently been subjected to an avalanche of online trolling for no other reason than being the son of a politician, whose very name tends to unsettle the foundations of Nigeria’s entrenched political order. This pattern is not political banter; it is cyberbullying masquerading as political critique. It reveals a moral vacuum where the sanctity of family life is ignored, and the children of public figures become collateral damage in the mud fight for power.

However, what matters most to us in this piece, which is quite striking and deeply instructive, is how Oseloka responded with the sleek calmness of a cat and graceful poise of a lion. Like father, like son; his reaction mirrored the very qualities for which his father, Peter Obi, has become known – calmness, restraint, and measured grace. The elder Obi has, over time, endured invective hurled at him with an almost monastic composure, never once descending into the gutter with his opponents. His son, rather than lash out in anger, chose the same path of dignity. This response is not weakness; it is strength. It reveals a philosophical orientation, a way of saying: “I will not let your insult define me.” In an era when infernal outrage fuels the algorithms of social media, measured silence and calm rebuttals are radical acts of self-possession.

Winston Churchill once said, “Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.” This humorous yet profound statement provides an apt metaphor for the exchange between online trolls and Oseloka, which the latter dismissed as a ‘fiction spun from pictures’. As Churchill’s metaphor reminds us, the choice is always ours: to look up with humility, to look down with wisdom, or to roll like the pig in the mud with reckless abandon. 

Oseloka avoided the last option in preference to the first alternative – to look up to his father. Dogs are known for their loyalty, respect, and deference to authority. They recognize hierarchy and exhibit an admirable sense of devotion to their owners, from whom they derive inspiration. In the world of politics and public service, deference is an essential virtue—one that allows for the maintenance of civility even in the face of provocation. Cats are notorious for their detachment. They neither grovel nor seek approval; instead, they observe from a position of calculated superiority. Pigs, unlike dogs and cats, recognize no hierarchy; they drag everyone into the mud, treating all as equals—not in the noble sense of egalitarianism, but in the basest form of confrontation.

If there was ever a moment that called for the cat’s feline wisdom—measured detachment and a strategic response—this was it. Oseloka, the lion’s cub, had the advantage of his pedigree that invested him with the aloof wisdom of the cat, which could have predisposed him to stay above the online fray. He could have chosen to rise above the provocation, dismissing such silly cyberbullying with the quiet confidence of one too mature to descend into a verbal slugfest. This disposition aligns with the old wise saying - “Never wrestle with a pig; you both get dirty, and the pig enjoys it.,” which found expression in his prefatory remarks. “I have refrained from engaging with the vitriol, scorn, and suspicion directed at me online because I was not raised to trade in lies or to indulge in false narratives. I did not do so as a child, and I will not begin now as grown man…”

However, when the ‘persistent curiosity and, at times, malicious obsession’ with him became increasingly unbearable, Oseloka decided to step out of his cocoon of cat’s wise aloofness and address those bunch of online gossips and their tissue of falsehoods. Who knows? In a society where rumours harden into ‘truth’ by mere repetition, failing to issue a rebuttal in the face of unceasing blistering accusations could be misconstrued as admission of guilt. Yet, his response was not a defensive tirade but a subtle reminder that mudslinging soils the thrower more than the target. The Greek philosopher Epictetus once observed that “it is not what happens to you, but how you react that matters.” In responding to those baseless accusations, he carefully weighed Churchill’s options and chose to ‘look up with humility, look down with wisdom’ and clearly avoided the filthy pig’s option of ‘rolling in the mud’ with his traducers. By so doing, he succeeded in underpinning in vivid terms more about the ‘pettiness of those spreading such false narratives than they do about him and his father,’ leaving them floundering in their own ‘flawed and childish calculations’. In this way, he achieved a Socratic reversal, which is, turning insult into indictment, exposing the moral poverty of his detractors without descending into their arena of filth. What might have been a spectacle of anger instead became a master-class in grace under fire.

From the foregoing, it is clear that the trolling has been purely designed for maximum traction, one that preyed upon the anxieties of a fragile electorate still reeling from contested elections, economic hardships, and widening distrust in leadership. The false narratives gained currency not because they had substance, but because in Nigeria’s charged political climate, a whisper against an opponent often spreads faster than a declaration of truth, a sad pointer to the ugly fact that political hostility hardly reckons with boundaries; instead, it is prone to bleeding so seamlessly into the private lives of family members. Oseloka Obi has given Nigerians a rare and profound glimpse into this reality. In a statement that is at once dignified and disarming, he laid bare the struggles of being the target of online trolls, who fabricate narratives around his personal life, weaponizing ordinary photographs and his career in the arts against both him and his father.

Of late, his father has become the political punch bag of almost every Dick and harry within the political echo chambers of the ruling elite. He embodies a kind of politics that unsettles the status quo - frugality in a land of profligacy, accountability in a system lubricated by impunity, and hope where despair has become a way of life. Little wonder, then that what has emerged in Nigeria’s recent political lexicon is what can only be described as Obi-phobia—an irrational fear and loathing of Peter Obi by the political establishment and their hangers-on. To his opponents, Obi is not just a man but a phenomenon, a threat to their entrenched privileges, a constant reminder that politics can, in fact, be decent, issue-driven, and people-centered. 

Ever since the 2023 elections, Peter Obi has been vilified for daring to upend the usual two-party monopoly. His insistence on issues such as prudent management of resources, cutting down the cost of governance, and fighting corruption is deeply unsettling to a class of politicians accustomed to running Nigeria like a personal fiefdom. Obi’s brand of politics, centered on integrity and accountability, poses a mortal threat to the gravy train. Hence, every opportunity is seized to discredit him and, by extension, anyone associated with him. When his political opponents could not fault his record in public office, they resorted to innuendos, half-truths, and outright lies. And when the man cannot be broken, attention often shifts to those closest to him—his family.

This explains Oseloka’s current experience in the pressure-pot of political trolls. For these online hobgoblins, the logic is simple - if they cannot dent the father, perhaps they can unsettle the son. Yet, in his calm and measured response, Oseloka demonstrated that he is every bit his father’s son. “The truth,” Oseloka observed, “is simple: Peter Obi’s son appears in photos with his friends and colleagues, nothing more. If people wish to invent otherwise, I hope they sleep soundly knowing they are spreading lies…” Oseloka’s response reveals something deeper; it is a rare kind of maturity that belies his years and an ability to maintain composure in the face of provocation. Rather than engaging in a verbal fisticuffs, he responded with quiet dignity. In an age where social media amplifies outrage and rewards aggression, his restraint is nothing short of remarkable. The lesson here is unmistakable—the fruit does not fall far from the tree. Here lies the essence of the politics of grace; that is, a politics not rooted in shouting matches, name-calling, or reckless mudslinging, but one that rises above the fray with composure and dignity.

The Igbo have a saying that captures this perfectly: Ihe agụ mụrụ anaghị ata akwụkwọ—the offspring of a lion does not eat straw. It means that the child of courage and dignity inherits those same qualities. Just as Peter Obi has consistently responded to insults with calmness, reason, and facts, so too has his son chosen the path of grace. For every insult hurled, Obi’s calm response has only endeared him to millions who yearn for a different kind of politics. It is not about them as individuals; it is about what they represent—a politics of change in a system allergic to accountability. And that is why the attacks, however malicious, ultimately fail always. This trait is not weakness; it is strength. For in refusing to roll in the mud with those who seek to soil his name, Oseloka has denied the trolls their victory. He has affirmed that he comes from a lineage that values character above crassness, composure above chaos.

Oseloka’s calm response also speaks to a generational shift. Nigeria’s Gen Z is often caricatured as unruly or disconnected; yet, here we see an example of a young man embodying composure and grace. It suggests that the values Peter Obi has modeled—discipline, restraint, dignity—are not lost on the younger generation. They are watching, learning, and, as Oseloka has shown, embodying these values in their own way. This is perhaps the greatest rebuke to the trolls: that their attempts to tarnish only produce the opposite effect, strengthening the very qualities they sought to undermine.

To troll the tiger’s cub is to forget the pedigree of the king of the jungle. Oseloka, like his father, will not eat straw. He has shown that the child of a lion will never graze where goats graze, nor dine on husks when he has inherited the grace and strength of his lineage. His response is not merely personal; it is symbolic. It is a reminder that Nigeria’s politics, though drenched in mud, still offers space for dignity, restraint, and grace. And in that space, the Obis stand tall, refusing to be diminished by the pettiness of their detractors.

In the final analysis, what Oseloka has taught us is that politics need not always descend into the gutter. That one can, even in the face of provocation, choose restraint over rancour, dignity over disgrace. It is a lesson his father has long embodied, and one that he has now demonstrated in his own way. For indeed, the offspring of a lion does not eat straw. Oseloka has spoken. He has shown that even in the face of lies, one can still stand tall with truth, dignity, and restraint. His trolls sought scandal; he offered substance. They aimed to wound; he chose to heal. And in that choice, he has taught Nigeria an invaluable lesson – that the measure of a man or a nation is not how low it can stoop, but how high it can rise. And in that posture, the son of the lion reaffirms the enduring lesson his father embodies – that integrity and restraint will always outlast the frenzy of slander; a warning that lies, no matter how loud, cannot drown the quiet roar of truth.

In the end, the wisdom of the ancients reminds us that silence is not always golden, for silence in the face of falsehood can be mistaken for complicity or admission of guilt. Oseloka’s decision to speak was not an act of self-defence but of clarity. He turned the spotlight away from himself and back onto those who wallow in the mire of pettiness and little-mindedness, exposing the emptiness of their ingrained malice. It was a Socratic reversal – the accused becomes the accuser, not through venom, but through the elegance of grace. And so in politics of grace, Oseloka has shown that true strength lies not in roaring back at detractors, but in dignifying the truth with composure. The lion may be assailed by jackals, but he does not need to stoop to their level to prove his nobility. Like his father before him, Oseloka embodies the lineage of courage and honour. He is the offspring of a lion, and such offspring do not eat straw.