Promise Maker, Breaker and Keeper:

 

The Tragedy of Forgotten Covenants and Delayed Consequences

“If I don't give you constant electricity for four years, don't vote for me when I come back for second term.”

“If I don't keep the promise and I come back for second term, don't vote for me.”

“A promise made will be a promise kept.”

During the 2022 campaign season, Bola Ahmed Tinubu reportedly made statements along those lines regarding electricity supply in Nigeria. The word “reportedly” is deliberately chosen because in today’s political climate, Artificial Intelligence has increasingly become the convenient scapegoat whenever public figures make controversial statements and their propagandists or image-makers attempt damage control. Once embarrassing comments resurface, the familiar refrain quickly emerges: “The video was manipulated,” “the audio was AI-generated,” or “the document was fabricated.” Ironically, many of those denials often confront clear video evidence captured by experienced journalists and widely circulated across public platforms.

These statements became part of Tinubu’s notable campaign rhetoric before and after the 2023 presidential election. They were used to reassure Nigerians that his administration would fulfill its promises on the economy, infrastructure, security, and particularly the persistent electricity crisis that has burdened citizens and businesses for decades.

Now that President Tinubu has effectively commenced the journey toward a possible second-term campaign, observers await what new political explanations may emerge. Perhaps, on another appearance at Chatham House in London, accompanied by figures such as Daniel Bwala, Nigerians may hear refined interpretations of those earlier declarations.

At the heart of the matter, however, remains the original democratic principle embedded in those campaign statements: Nigerians should ultimately judge leadership not by slogans, propaganda, emotional speeches, or political poetry, but by measurable performance — especially in critical sectors such as electricity supply, economic stability, security, and the general welfare of the people.

From Failed Judges to Failed Kings

Before Saul emerged as king in Israel, the nation had become deeply frustrated with the failures surrounding the era of the judges. Although many judges were raised by God, several administrations ended in disappointment, compromise, corruption, abuse of authority, and moral decline. In particular, the sons of Prophet Samuel became symbols of judicial corruption, bribery, and perversion of justice. Public confidence in spiritual and national leadership weakened drastically.

The people became tired of disappointment. They desired change at all costs.

In that atmosphere of frustration and national exhaustion, Saul emerged as the popular alternative. He was handsome, charismatic, energetic, and appeared capable of restoring national pride and stability. The people overwhelmingly endorsed him because they had become weary of the failures before him.

Ironically, the man chosen as the solution eventually became a greater national tragedy than the system the people once rejected.

The same painful cycle repeatedly appears in many nations, including Nigeria. Governments emerge promising rescue from previous administrations accused of incompetence, corruption, economic hardship, insecurity, or misgovernance. Citizens invest hope in a new leader believing the incoming government cannot possibly perform worse than its predecessors.

Yet history often delivers cruel surprises.

Today, many Nigerians who enthusiastically supported or defended Bola Ahmed Tinubu on the grounds that previous administrations had failed now openly express disappointment, believing that conditions have become even harsher than before. Fairly or unfairly, rightly or wrongly, the painful public perception in many quarters is that the cure has become more troubling than the disease it promised to heal.

This was also the tragedy of Saul.

Israel demanded a king because they were tired of flawed judges. But the king they celebrated eventually brought national instability, spiritual decline, bloodshed, broken covenants, and generational consequences upon the nation.

One of the greatest dangers in politics and governance is when people become so desperate for change that they mistake anger for wisdom and emotional exhaustion for discernment. In such moments, nations often elect personalities instead of principles, slogans instead of substance, and propaganda instead of proven character.

The lesson is sobering:

A leader may rise on the failures of others yet eventually become remembered as a worse disappointment than those he replaced.

And when that happens, national frustration deepens because hope itself begins to die.

Saul and the Broken Covenant

The Bible presents a frightening example of the danger of broken promises in 2 Samuel 21. The story traces back over four centuries earlier when the children of Israel entered Canaan under Joshua. The Gibeonites, fearing destruction, deceptively secured a covenant of protection from Israel. Though Joshua later discovered the deception, the leaders of Israel refused to violate the oath because it had been sworn before God. A promise had been made, and covenant integrity demanded that it be honoured despite the embarrassment.

For generations, that covenant remained untouched. Kings rose and fell. Prophets appeared and disappeared. Battles were fought. Yet the covenant stood silently before heaven.

Then came King Saul.

Driven perhaps by misguided nationalism, political zeal, ethnic hatred, or a desperate desire to appear patriotic before the people, Saul violated the ancient covenant and massacred the Gibeonites. He ignored the sacredness of a sworn promise. He behaved like many leaders who assume power grants immunity from moral obligations and historical accountability.

Yet heaven kept records.

Saul died without publicly accounting for the violation. Time passed. David became king. Israel appeared to move on. But divine justice had not forgotten.

Then suddenly, during the reign of King David, a severe famine struck Israel for three consecutive years. The land groaned under divine displeasure. Crops failed. Hunger spread. Economic hardship visited the nation. It was not immediately obvious why calamity had arrived because the sin responsible belonged to a previous administration and a dead king.

When David sought the face of God, the answer came:

“It is because of Saul and his bloodstained house; it is because he put the Gibeonites to death.”

What a terrifying revelation.

A broken covenant from decades earlier had become a national crisis. The consequences of violated promises extended beyond Saul himself. His descendants suffered for it. The entire nation suffered for it. Innocent citizens experienced famine because leadership had treated covenant lightly.

The lesson is both spiritual and political.

Promises are not mere campaign decorations. Covenants are not disposable tools for capturing applause. Words spoken publicly carry moral weight before both man and God. Leaders may forget their promises after elections, but the people remember, history remembers, and heaven remembers.

Many nations today suffer not merely from lack of resources but from accumulated consequences of broken national covenants — promises abandoned, constitutions manipulated, public trust betrayed, and citizens repeatedly deceived by recycled rhetoric.

A leader may successfully silence critics, control propaganda machinery, intimidate opposition, and even rewrite narratives, but consequences possess remarkable patience. They can wait years, decades, or generations before appearing at the national doorstep.

Saul probably never imagined that his actions against the Gibeonites would one day produce famine in Israel long after his death. Likewise, many modern leaders behave as though campaign promises evaporate immediately after inauguration ceremonies. But history repeatedly proves otherwise: broken promises eventually mature into national burdens.

The tragedy is not merely that promises are broken. The deeper tragedy is when leaders normalize deception and citizens gradually become conditioned to expect betrayal as standard political culture.

Nigeria, like many nations, stands continually at the crossroads between covenant keeping and covenant breaking. The future of any nation depends not only on economic policies or political alliances but also on the moral credibility of its leadership.

For when promises lose meaning, trust dies.
When trust dies, hope weakens.
When hope weakens, frustration matures into anger.
And when anger replaces hope, nations begin to decay from within.

Yet Scripture also reveals that judgment is not God’s final desire. Even when mercy is available through repentance, the social and national consequences of leadership dishonesty may linger across generations. Nevertheless, repentance, truth, justice, and covenant restoration remain the pathway to healing.

When David finally confronted the hidden national sin instead of ignoring it, the process of restoration began. This remains a lesson for modern nations and leaders: crises cannot permanently be solved through propaganda, blame-shifting, image laundering, or political manipulation. Genuine healing begins when truth is acknowledged, wrongs are confronted, promises are honoured, and justice is pursued.

Nations recover when leaders rediscover integrity.
People heal when truth replaces deception.
Trust returns when promises regain sacred meaning.
And hope rises again when governance becomes service rather than personal entitlement.

The story of Saul and the Gibeonites therefore stands as a timeless warning to leaders everywhere:

God may forgive individuals upon genuine repentance, yet the social and national consequences of leadership dishonesty can leave generational scars upon a people.

A promise made should indeed be a promise kept. Otherwise, yesterday’s political slogans may become tomorrow’s national famine.