By Israel Adebiyi
Every time a president presents an ambassadorial list, the country leans in, for curiosity, for scandal, sometimes for hope. The recent roll-call sent to the Senate has been no exception. Names that spark applause, names that stir suspicion, and names that prompt the familiar sigh: “Here we go again.” Such lists become a litmus test of national seriousness. They tell the world, and they tell Nigerians, what kind of country we intend to be in the global theatre: a nation that sends its best foot forward, or a nation that sends its baggage in diplomatic clothing.
Diplomacy is not decorative. It is an instrument of national security, economic interest, cultural projection and reputation management. Bad ambassadors do more than embarrass the presidency; they cost the country in missed investments, frayed bilateral relations and muddied narratives. Good ambassadors, conversely, open doors, smooth tensions, win trade, attract investment, and tell compelling stories about our capacities and ambitions.
So when an ambassadorial list lands on our table, the right question is not “Who is on the list?” alone. The critical questions are: who should be on such a list? What combinations of competence, integrity, and representational balance should guide the choices? And, crucially, how do we ensure those posted abroad actually defend Nigeria’s interest instead of their personal agendas?
The new ambassadorial list show less of a strategic foreign-policy vision and more of a familiar pattern that rewards loyalty over competence. The inclusion of figures whose public reputations are tied to controversy has raised understandable doubts about whether the administration truly values global perception. When a list meant to showcase Nigeria’s best instead stirs public anxiety, it becomes difficult to argue that the country is positioning itself for credibility, respect and effective representation. Diplomacy relies heavily on trust, and that trust weakens when nominees carry political or ethical baggage that foreign partners can easily research.
The backlash to some of the names was not rooted in partisanship but in genuine concern for Nigeria’s diplomatic standing. Critics questioned why individuals associated with disputed elections, polarising rhetoric or underwhelming public-service records should be handed the responsibility of speaking for a nation of over 200 million people. Observers warned that sending such figures abroad signals either a lack of seriousness or a deliberate choice to prioritise political settlement over national interest. That perception alone can cost the country leverage in negotiations, investor confidence and the goodwill needed to rebuild strained diplomatic ties.
More troubling is the message it sends to the professional foreign-service community. When seasoned diplomats watch career-path expectations overridden by political convenience, morale drops and institutional memory erodes. Nigeria cannot afford a diplomatic corps built on compensation rather than competence. At a time when global politics is increasingly competitive, the country needs envoys who can earn trust, attract investment, manage crises and negotiate with tact. This moment called for a list that inspires confidence. Instead, it has deepened public debate about whether Nigeria’s diplomacy is being shaped by merit or by politics.
Ambassadorial lists in Nigeria, like in many other democracies, are made up of four broad categories: career diplomats, seasoned technocrats and professionals, retired politicians and loyalists, and symbolic appointments (celebrities, party financiers and friends). Each category has virtues and perils.
Career diplomats bring institutional memory, protocol knowledge, and the technical skills of foreign service. They know the language of treaties, consular services, and quiet negotiations. They are, by training, the dependable chassis of any diplomatic corps. The risk: without periodic infusion of outside ideas and private sector sensibilities, a foreign service can calcify and fall behind contemporary diplomatic practice, especially in economic diplomacy where creative dealmaking matters.
Technocrats and professionals, captains of industry, academics, legal minds, and ex-ministers, bring networks, sector expertise and credibility. A trade minister posted as ambassador to a major economic partner can powerfully pursue investment and market access. The risk here is transactional temptation; technocrats who lack diplomatic finesse or political nous may struggle with protocol, and without a firm mandate they may prioritize old business networks over national strategy.
Retired politicians and party loyalists often deserve scrutiny. There is a logic to rewarding service, and some ex-politicians are deeply capable and widely respected abroad. However, appointment as ambassador must not be a retirement gift for political patronage. When embassies become sinecures for cronies, the result is diplomatic drift. Public money funds luxury without measurable returns; consular services suffer because senior personnel are absent from day-to-day management.
Finally, symbolic figures, celebrities or financiers, can draw visibility and soft power. A respected global name can raise a country’s cultural profile. The danger is reduction: when celebrity replaces capacity, embassies become publicity desks with little policy clout. Worse, when ambassadors are insulated from oversight and used as channels for private enrichment, the country pays an avoidable price.
If we agree that ambassadors must be guardians of the national interest, what then should we expect? Here is a checklist, a standard against which any appointment ought to be judged.
First, professional competence. Ambassadors must understand diplomacy in both its ceremonial and substantive dimensions. They must know how to protect citizens abroad, support economic diplomacy, engage in political reporting, and escalate issues when national security is threatened. Fluency in relevant languages and familiarity with the host country’s politics and culture are non-negotiable pluses.
Second, ethical probity. The temptation to use an embassy as a branch office for private business must be eliminated. Ambassadors must be above reproach, with transparent financial affairs and no conflicts that could compromise national interest.
Third, network and credibility. The best ambassadors are connectors. They bring relationships with business leaders, investors, think tanks, and political actors who matter in the host country. Their networks are the leverage points that turn goodwill into trade deals and visa facilitation into investment pipelines.
Fourth, strategic patience and judgment. Diplomacy is often long, painstaking, and unspectacular. The ability to read when to negotiate quietly and when to make a public stand is an art. Ambassadors who substitute bombast for strategy do more harm than good.
Fifth, results orientation. An embassy’s performance must be measurable: consular case resolution, visa timelines, trade balances, investment wins, cultural partnerships, and political risk mitigation. Appointments should be paired with clear performance indicators and accountability mechanisms.
Finally, representational balance. Nigeria’s ambassadorial choices should reflect federal character, gender balance, ethnic inclusivity, and regional representation matter not because of quotas alone, but because diverse representation helps Nigeria speak credibly on issues that affect different Nigerians.
Too often, ambassadorial lists have prioritized reward over remit. Political survival sometimes trumps national interest. The result is predictable: delayed engagement, missed bilateral opportunities, and reputational slippage. Consider the cost when an ambassadorial appointment requires the foreign ministry to spend weeks briefing a newcomer who lacks the requisite background. Consider the consular embarrassment when an embassy’s leadership focuses on private ventures instead of protecting citizens during crisis.
There are also examples where postings have been politically consequential in troubling ways. When embassies become parochial fiefdoms, they can be misused for interference in domestic politics of the host country or in domestic party calculations back home. Worse still, when appointments reward those tainted by allegations of corruption or gross mismanagement, the nation’s moral authority erodes.
The Senate’s constitutional duty to screen ambassadorial nominees is more than ceremonial theatre; it is an opportunity to convert appointments from patronage to policy. Senators must treat screening as a guardianship function, interrogating the competence, motives, and integrity of nominees rather than rubber-stamping lists in the service of expediency.
What, concretely, should senators demand? They should require evidence of relevant experience, clear declarations of assets, and public records of past conduct. They should ask nominees to present a two-year plan for their proposed posting: what trade targets will be pursued, what consular reforms will be implemented, how the diaspora will be engaged, and what metrics will measure success. If nominees cannot demonstrate a credible plan, they should not be confirmed.
Beyond parliamentary scrutiny, the executive must elevate the selection process. A presidential office that aspires to global respect should expect its envoy corps to be professionalized and competitive. That means proactive talent development: a foreign service reinvigorated with training for economic diplomacy, secondments to private sector trade desks, language immersion, and performance-based promotions.
It also means developing a strategic posting policy. High stakes postings -Washington, London, Beijing, Brussels, Abuja’s neighboring capitals – should be reserved for proven hands: experienced career diplomats or technocrats with a track record in economic statecraft. Political appointees, where used, must bring comparative advantage and not just party loyalty.
Finally, transparency in selection – publishing criteria, inviting public input from diaspora communities and professional associations – will inoculate the process against cronyism.
Nigeria’s ambassadors must also be diaspora champions. Our citizens abroad, entrepreneurs, professionals, students, are powerful engines for foreign direct investment, remittances, and soft power. Ambassadors who work closely with diaspora networks can unlock enormous value for development. Yet too many missions treat the diaspora as a footnote. A reimagined ambassadorial approach recognizes that consular outreach, diaspora engagement, and cultural diplomacy are central to national interest.
Ambassadorial lists that remain male-dominated or gerontocratic miss a strategic opportunity. Women diplomats and younger professionals bring different lenses: diplomacy that is often better at coalition building, social diplomacy, and narrative framing. Nigeria must prioritize gender balance and youth representation, not as tokenism, but as an infusion of agility and relevance.
Ambassadors are storytellers; their narratives shape investment flows and diplomatic goodwill. But their stories must be backed by tangible performance, protective consular services, booming trade figures, new cultural exchanges, and conflict mitigation.
If we are serious about being a nation that commands respect, we must stop treating our ambassadorial benches as retirement lounges and start treating them as instruments of statecraft. The best foot forward is not a slogan; it is a strategy. It demands competence, probity, and public purpose. It insists on accountability, on measurable results, and on the humility to put national interest above private comfort.
When the world looks at our ambassadorial list, let it do more than judge individual names. Let it read, instead, a coherent national project: one that says Nigeria will no longer outsource its dignity; that it will stand at the table with competence; that it will send envoys who negotiate trade, protect citizens, and tell the true, proud story of our country.
If we get this wrong, the cost will be paid in eroded investments, diplomatic friction and a shrinking reputation. If we get it right, the rewards will ripple across the economy, in jobs, markets and respect. The choice is ours. The world is watching.
