When Promises Go Dark

In December 2025, hope flickered across Yenagoa.

Residents had been assured by Douye Diri, Governor of Bayelsa State, that steady electricity would finally become a reality. A 60 Megawatt gas turbine had been procured, he said. By Christmas, Yenagoa would no longer live in darkness.

But December came and so did the darkness.

Even during the festive season, when light is more than electricity and becomes symbolism; joy, safety, warmth, most parts of Yenagoa remained trapped in shadows. Streets were quiet, homes relied on generators, and celebrations were muted by the familiar hum of frustration.

What should have been a season of gratitude instead reopened an old wound: disappointment in leadership.

Living on Promises, Powering Life with Hope

For residents of Yenagoa, epileptic power supply is not an inconvenience, it is a way of life. It dictates productivity, sleep, safety, and income. Tailors pause work mid-stitch. Students read with phone torchlights. Small business owners spend more on fuel than profit. Hospitals and pharmacies live in constant anxiety. Darkness here is not poetic; it is exhausting.

Electricity is not a luxury in Yenagoa, it is survival.

So when assurances are given publicly, especially with timelines attached, they become emotional contracts with the people. The promise of stable power wasn’t just about wires and turbines; it was about dignity. It was about being seen.

“They’re Still Working on It”

The Government now say the gas turbine and its connections are still being worked on and is 90 percent complete. Technically, that may be true. But emotionally, the damage is already done.

Because for the average resident, this explanation sounds painfully familiar.

“We are still working on it” has become the most overused sentence in governance, one that rarely comes with transparency, timelines, or accountability. The problem is not delay alone; it is silence, vagueness, and the absence of honest communication.

People can endure hardship but not uncertainty.

A City Tired, But Not Broken

Despite the disappointment, Yenagoa is not defeated.

This is a city of resilient people, traders who open shop despite losses, youths who dream beyond circumstances, families who laugh even when candles replace bulbs. The frustration runs deep, but so does the hope. And that hope is precisely why the disappointment hurts.

Residents are not asking for miracles. They are asking for truth.

If the turbine is delayed, say why.

If timelines have shifted, explain how.

If challenges exist, involve the people in the reality.

Respect restores trust faster than empty reassurance.

Leadership Must Learn to Feel the Darkness

Electricity is political, but it is also deeply human. Leaders must understand that every broken promise compounds the weight already sitting on the shoulders of ordinary people.

Yenagoa does not need perfection.

It needs sincerity.

It needs consistency.

It needs leadership that understands that development delayed is hope deferred.

Until steady power becomes reality, the people will keep enduring. But endurance should not be mistaken for satisfaction.

The lights may be off but the eyes of the people are wide open.

And they are still waiting.