Yesterday at the NAF Conference Centre in Abuja, Nigeria bore witness to more than just a book launch, it experienced the unveiling of a life lived with remarkable consistency, stubborn conviction, and unapologetic truth. Being True to Myself, the much-anticipated autobiography of Alhaji Sule Lamido, CON, was launched to a hall brimming with dignitaries – high and not-so-high, yet mighty in their own rights.
It was an assembly of Nigeria’s past and present – former ministers, governors, legislators, and everyday citizens who have followed the journey of a man who has never claimed perfection but has always demanded authenticity. You could feel the weight of history in the room, and the tension of a nation still searching for men – and women – who dare to be true to themselves.
I bought my copy of the book at the venue. I have only just begun reading it, but already the tone of the man comes through: witty, bold, occasionally abrasive, but unmistakably sincere. This is no sanitised political memoir. It reads, so far, like a truth-telling expedition by a man who, for decades, has refused to put on airs or bend to the wind of political convenience.
Sule Lamido is many things – founding member of the PDP, former Minister of Foreign Affairs, two-term Governor of Jigawa State, veteran of the Aminu Kano ideological school – but above all, he is his own man. He has remained so, often at great personal cost. The title of the book, Being True to Myself, is more than literary flair, it is the principle by which Lamido has lived his political and personal life.
In Plato’s Republic, Socrates insists that the highest form of justice is “to be one’s self and not another’s.” That, in essence, is Lamido’s enduring message. He has chosen to be himself – often loud, occasionally controversial, but never borrowed or beholden.
In an era where party loyalty is shallow and political ideology is flexible to the point of vanishing, Sule Lamido has held the line. He is among the last original apostles of the PDP still standing, and still believing. While many have jumped ship, defected, and returned in transactional cycles, Lamido stayed put. Not because the party was always right, but because he believed in the ideas that gave birth to it. He fought within the house when needed, challenged decisions, called out betrayals, but he did not flee. That kind of ideological fidelity is rare. In today’s politics, it’s almost extinct.
Being True to Myself is, therefore, not just a title, it is a defiance. It is a call to values, to memory, to principle.
You may disagree with Lamido on many things, as I sometimes do. But you cannot ignore the clarity of his voice. Nor can you overlook the historical consistency that defines his political trajectory. From his early activism in the PRP to his ministerial service, and through his tenure as governor, Lamido has kept faith with the idea that politics must serve the people, not enslave them.
As I flipped through the opening chapters, I was reminded of Friedrich Nietzsche’s claim that, “The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe.” Lamido’s life is a testament to that struggle. He has resisted the pull of tribal allegiance, refused to conform to the tides of power, and maintained an independent voice in the noisy theatre of Nigerian politics. That resistance has cost him politically, but it has also earned him something far greater: integrity.
At the launch, the speakers spoke glowingly. Some focused on Lamido’s achievements in Jigawa – his investments in infrastructure, education, and public services. Others focused on his ideological clarity, his commitment to the masses, and his unwavering belief in the PDP project. But for me, what stood out most was the unspoken message of the event itself: Nigeria is still hungry for authenticity.
The dignitaries in the room represented the old guard and a few from the new. Many have had their chapters in our national story; some are writing theirs now. But Lamido’s chapter, even as he begins to reflect and document, still feels unfinished. His voice remains sharp. His criticisms sting. His ideals haven’t softened. In an age of political shapeshifters, Lamido still moves with purpose – still true to himself.
And this is why students of politics, leadership, and governance must read this book. Being True to Myself is not just a political memoir, it is a strategic case study in conviction-led leadership. For students eager to understand the complexities of political navigation, ideological consistency, and the hard choices leaders face, this book is a living classroom.
Lamido’s life challenges the modern assumption that leadership is about survival above all else. Instead, his story presents an alternative: that leadership is about meaning, belief, and standing for something, even when it is not popular, or politically expedient.
As Aristotle once wrote, “Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom.” That is what Being True to Myself ultimately offers, not just a record of political history, but an intimate portrait of a man who, for better or worse, has refused to betray his understanding of himself.
No doubt, as I continue reading, I expect to find flaws, contradictions, even moments of failure. But in truth, that will only make the story more compelling. Because to be truly oneself, one must embrace not only one’s victories but also one’s scars. And Sule Lamido has worn both in public.
This is a book to be read not only for what it says, but for what it stands for. It stands for the rare act of remembering one’s roots, honouring one’s beliefs, and resisting the urge to become someone else for applause or convenience.
In Being True to Myself, Sule Lamido is inviting us – not just to know him – but to ask of ourselves: what does it mean to be truly, unapologetically, and consistently ourselves?
That is a question our politics must learn to ask again. And this book is a good place to start.
