We Get Only ₦4 Million Despite ₦600 Million Allocation: Ondo LG Bosses Accuse Aiyedatiwa of Diverting Funds in Defiance of Supreme Court Ruling
At the Owo Local Government Secretariat, the books do not tell the same story as the roads outside. On paper, Owo received ₦644 million in June from the Federation Account Allocation Committee (FAAC). In reality, the chairman insists that his council could barely spend more than ₦4 million on actual governance.
That contrast—billions declared in Abuja, a few millions available in Akure—is the heart of a crisis shaking Ondo State’s grassroots governance.
Across the 18 local government areas of Ondo, chairmen whisper of empty coffers, halted projects, and restive communities. They allege that despite the Supreme Court’s landmark July 2024 ruling granting financial autonomy to local governments, Governor Lucky Aiyedatiwa’s administration continues to hold their funds hostage through the state–local government joint account system.
“We are crippled,” one chairman told Roving Reporters under condition of anonymity. “How do you explain that Abuja says we got ₦600 million, but in reality, I can’t even fix a culvert without begging the state ministry?”
For these council bosses, the struggle is no longer just about money—it is about democracy itself.
The numbers are staggering. In the last FAAC meeting, according to BudgIT’s publicly available tracker, Ondo’s local governments collectively received billions:
- Owo: ₦644 million
- Akoko South: ₦590 million
- Ondo East: ₦405 million
But after statutory deductions and what chairmen describe as “mysterious directives from the state,” the councils ended up with only ₦4 million apiece.
“That ₦4 million cannot even buy diesel for graders, let alone build schools,” another chairman said. “It is a wicked joke, and it is killing grassroots governance.”
The frustration runs deep. Six months after they were elected, many of the chairmen confess that they cannot point to a single meaningful project commissioned under their watch. Instead, they operate as glorified administrators—processing salaries for a handful of staff while communities expect roads, healthcare centres, and boreholes that never materialise.
“We cannot even grade rural roads, yet Abuja records billions under our name,” a third chairman lamented. “The people think we are thieves, but the truth is, the money never reaches us.”
Some have even hinted that the systematic strangulation of local government finances may be a political strategy ahead of the 2025 Ondo governorship election, ensuring that chairmen remain weak, indebted, and loyal to the governor’s camp.
If the chairmen’s allegations paint a picture of deliberate strangulation, the state government insists that the reality is more complicated. Ondo’s Commissioner for Local Government and Chieftaincy Affairs, Amidu Takuro, has repeatedly argued that the perception of funds “disappearing” is misleading. According to him, the deductions are not arbitrary but necessary to sustain essential services that cut across the councils.
In an interview monitored on state radio, Takuro explained that a large share of the local governments’ allocation is spent on the salaries of primary school teachers, local government staff, and pensioners. He stressed that the state government merely coordinates the disbursement to prevent arrears and ensure uniformity. “Without these deductions, councils would be in perpetual crisis over unpaid wages,” he said. “Teachers in Akoko cannot be left unpaid while those in Okitipupa receive full salaries. That is why the system is harmonised.”
Beyond wages, Takuro cited funding for the Amotekun Corps, the regional security outfit that has become central to Ondo’s fight against kidnapping and banditry. He maintained that without pooling resources, the corps would collapse, leaving local communities vulnerable. The commissioner also listed healthcare interventions, local roads jointly maintained with the state, and obligations to the State Universal Basic Education Board (SUBEB) as reasons for the deductions.
He denied that the councils receive as little as ₦4 million each, describing such claims as “deliberate exaggerations meant to score political points.” He challenged the chairmen to produce evidence of their actual receipts and insisted that transparency exists in the system. “The joint account is constitutional. It was not created by Governor Aiyedatiwa but has been in existence since the return of democracy in 1999. What we are doing is consistent with the law and with practice across other states,” he added.
Still, his defence has not calmed tempers. Civil servants within the local government system quietly admit that while deductions for salaries are legitimate, other subtractions are less clear. For instance, a recurring line item marked “administrative charges” swallows hundreds of millions without detailed breakdowns. Critics argue that such ambiguities fuel suspicion of diversion.
A senior local government treasurer, speaking anonymously, explained the dilemma: “Yes, teachers’ salaries must be paid. But why should that consume more than half of the allocation when Abuja already makes provisions for education separately? And why must councils pay for projects we never see on ground? The state government hides under salary deductions to drain the accounts.”
The gap between the government’s defence and the chairmen’s reality underscores a deeper structural issue: the joint account system itself. As long as states retain custody of allocations, local councils will struggle to assert autonomy, no matter what the figures on paper say.
The dispute in Ondo cannot be separated from the landmark judgment delivered by the Supreme Court of Nigeria on July 11, 2024. In a case filed by the Federal Government against the 36 states, the apex court ruled that it was unconstitutional for governors to withhold or tamper with funds meant for local governments. The judgment, delivered by Justice Emmanuel Agim, was hailed as a turning point for grassroots democracy.
The court’s reasoning was anchored on Section 7 of the 1999 Constitution, which guarantees the existence of democratically elected local government councils. By implication, any system that strips those councils of financial independence undermines their ability to function as the third tier of government. Justice Agim declared that the practice of governors diverting funds through joint accounts amounted to a “brazen violation of the Constitution.”
The judgment had three critical pronouncements. First, that all funds allocated to local governments from the Federation Account must be paid directly into their accounts, not into state-controlled joint accounts. Second, that the use of caretaker committees in place of elected chairmen was illegal. Third, that the federal government, through the Central Bank of Nigeria, was empowered to bypass state governments and credit local councils directly if governors refused to comply.
Legal observers described the ruling as the most significant boost to local government autonomy in decades. It was expected that once the judgment was delivered, governors would no longer have leeway to intercept or withhold allocations. Yet, more than a year later, compliance remains patchy at best. Governors across party lines have found ways to delay or dilute its implementation, citing administrative bottlenecks and wage obligations.
Ondo is no exception. Despite the judgment, allocations are still routed through the joint account managed in Akure. Critics argue that this defies not only the spirit but also the letter of the ruling. Constitutional lawyer Jiti Ogunye said in a recent forum: “A Supreme Court judgment is not advice. It is binding. When a governor insists on retaining control of local government funds after this judgment, he is committing open contempt of court.”
The federal government, for its part, has so far avoided direct confrontation. While President Bola Tinubu initially hailed the ruling as a “victory for grassroots democracy,” his administration has stopped short of ordering the CBN to implement direct payments nationwide. Insiders in Abuja suggest that Tinubu is reluctant to provoke a backlash from governors, many of whom are powerful allies in his political coalition.
This ambivalence has emboldened governors like Aiyedatiwa to continue with the old system, even as council bosses complain of empty accounts. The contradiction is stark: the nation’s highest court has spoken, but at the grassroots, nothing has changed.
For Ondo’s local government chairmen, this gap between law and practice is the heart of their frustration. “What is the meaning of democracy if even the Supreme Court cannot save us?” one chairman asked bitterly. “We swore oaths to serve our people, but the money to serve them is hijacked before it reaches us. If the governor can ignore the Supreme Court, then who are we to turn to?”