“This Was Not an Endorsement”: Tunde Onakoya Breaks Silence Over Meeting with President Tinubu

 

Tunde Onakoya, celebrated chess master and the visionary behind Chess in Slums Africa, has responded to mounting criticism over his recent visit to President Bola Ahmed Tinubu. The 29-year-old, who recently earned global recognition for breaking the Guinness World Record for the longest chess marathon in Times Square, New York, clarified that his meeting with the Nigerian leader was purely symbolic and should not be misconstrued as a political alignment.

The meeting, which took place in Lagos and featured prominently circulated photos of Onakoya with President Tinubu, sparked immediate backlash online. Many Nigerians, particularly on social media, expressed disappointment, questioning why a youth advocate known for championing the cause of slum children would be seen aligning with a government they accuse of exacerbating economic hardship.

Critics argued that the optics of the visit were at odds with Onakoya’s values and grassroots mission, especially given Nigeria’s ongoing cost-of-living crisis and growing disillusionment among the country’s youth. The disapproval was swift, loud, and unrelenting.

On Wednesday, Onakoya took to his X (formerly Twitter) account to deliver a heartfelt, unfiltered response. In a post that doubled as a statement of purpose and a personal reckoning, he expressed disappointment at the judgment he had received and sought to explain the intention behind the visit.

“This was never a political move. To be honoured and received by the President and the highest office in my own country for this reason is not a crime,” he wrote. “It is not even a national honour, by the way.”

He continued, “I understand the weight that such a meeting carries in the eyes of the public, and I hear the criticisms. But it’s important for people to understand the difference between being acknowledged by leadership and endorsing leadership.”

Onakoya, who has built a career transforming lives through chess, especially among children in underserved communities, reiterated that he has never harbored any political ambitions. His work, he said, requires a level of neutrality that he is unwilling to compromise.

“I have no interest in partisan politics because of the sensitivity of the work that I do,” he stated unequivocally. “If that ever changes, then I would resign my role as CEO of Chess in Slums Africa.”

Known for his humility, discipline, and deep commitment to children’s education and empowerment, Onakoya’s rise to prominence has been anything but ordinary. From teaching chess under bridges and in community centers to sharing the stage with global leaders, he has consistently used his platform to advocate for those society often overlooks.

The 64-hour chess marathon in Times Square, which catapulted him into the global spotlight yet again, was not just a record-breaking event. It was a fundraising initiative aimed at supporting education for African children from disadvantaged backgrounds. His mission has remained constant: to use chess as a tool for social change, inspiration, and upward mobility.

Even as criticism over the visit persists, some voices have come to his defense. Supporters argue that as a private citizen, Onakoya has every right to meet with national leaders and that refusing such recognition might even risk sidelining the very cause he champions. Others have pointed out that engagement with political figures does not automatically equate to endorsement, especially in a country where state-level recognition can amplify social projects.

Still, Onakoya appears keenly aware of the public's sensitivity, especially during a time when economic inequality continues to widen. Yet, he insists his conscience remains clear.

“I live for the audience of one, and that is enough,” he wrote, concluding a statement that was as much an affirmation of his values as it was a defense of his actions.

As the dust settles around the controversy, the debate surrounding public figures and their relationship with power continues to provoke wider questions in Nigeria: Can one accept recognition from a political leader without being seen as endorsing their politics? And where should the line be drawn between engagement and complicity?

For Tunde Onakoya, the answer lies not in optics, but in impact.