The pioneer members of Host Community Development Trust (HCDT) boards across Nigeria stand at a crossroads that few citizens ever reach. Whether they acknowledge it or not, their decisions today will permanently shape how the Petroleum Industry Act (PIA) is interpreted, implemented, trusted, or rejected by host communities for decades to come. History is already recording their actions. Silence, complacency, compromise, or courage — all are being documented in the lived experience of the communities they were appointed to serve.
There is no neutrality in this moment. Every procurement choice, every contract awarded, every governance decision, every disclosure made or withheld is setting precedent. The systems being normalized now will become the template that future boards inherit. If transparency, community participation, financial discipline, and ethical leadership are established early, the PIA will mature into a powerful tool for local development. If secrecy, patronage, political capture, and elite extraction take root instead, the PIA will become just another broken promise in the long history of Niger Delta disappointment.
Pioneer boards do not merely manage projects; they define institutional culture.
This responsibility carries a hard truth many may prefer to ignore: pioneer board members are temporary stewards, not permanent power holders. The PIA is unambiguous. Board tenure is capped at two terms. After that, you are gone — permanently. No extensions. No recycling. No quiet return through the back door. The communities will move forward without you. What will remain is your legacy: the systems you built or destroyed, the trust you earned or squandered, the standards you defended or compromised.
Positions will vanish. Decisions will endure.
It is therefore reckless for any board member to treat this appointment as an opportunity for personal accumulation, political settlement, or social status. The PIA did not create HCDTs to empower a new elite class. It created them to correct historic injustices, stabilize host communities, reduce conflict, and ensure that oil wealth produces visible development outcomes. Any deviation from this mandate is not merely poor leadership — it is betrayal of public trust.
Communities are watching more closely than many board members realize. Civil society groups are building datasets. Journalists are paying attention. Youth groups are learning procurement rules. Digital transparency platforms are emerging. The era when public institutions could operate in darkness is collapsing rapidly. Documents leak. Contracts surface. Bank trails speak. Reputations follow.
Those who plant bad seeds today will harvest accountability tomorrow.
It is also important to recognize that the PIA itself is still in its formative years. Courts will rely on early practices to interpret gray areas. Regulators will normalize whatever behavior pioneer boards establish. Future trustees will copy what they inherit. In effect, pioneer boards are writing the unwritten rules of the system. This makes ethical discipline not optional but foundational.
If procurement is manipulated today, corruption becomes institutional tomorrow.
If community consultation is bypassed today, exclusion becomes policy tomorrow.
If transparency is avoided today, secrecy becomes culture tomorrow.
There will be no opportunity to rewrite these foundations once they harden.
Board members must also understand that public respect is not automatic; it is earned through visible integrity. Host communities have suffered decades of broken development promises, abandoned projects, polluted land, and elite capture. Suspicion is rational. Trust must be demonstrated consistently through open reporting, inclusive engagement, audited financial discipline, and measurable development outcomes.
The public does not care about excuses, internal politics, or bureaucratic delays. Communities judge results. Water that flows. Roads that last. Schools that function. Skills that produce jobs. Systems that treat people fairly. Anything less will be interpreted correctly as failure.
Power must therefore be exercised with restraint, humility, and accountability. The temptation to dominate decision-making, marginalize dissenting voices, or personalize authority must be resisted. HCDTs are collective institutions, not private estates. Trustees are custodians, not owners.
This is also a moral test. Many pioneer board members are respected elders, professionals, and community leaders whose names already carry weight. This chapter will either elevate those reputations into enduring public honor or permanently stain them. History rarely remembers titles; it remembers conduct.
The truth is simple and unavoidable: whether you like it or not, your actions will define how the PIA succeeds or fails at the grassroots. You cannot escape this responsibility. You cannot outsource it. You cannot postpone it.
Two terms pass quickly. The applause fades. But the institutional footprint remains.
Pioneer board members must therefore act with urgency, discipline, and conscience. Build systems stronger than personalities. Document everything. Publish transparently. Engage communities honestly. Reject political interference. Enforce procurement rigor. Protect the trust’s independence. Leave behind institutions that can outlive individual ambition.
The PIA has offered host communities a rare opportunity to reset their development trajectory. Do not be remembered as the generation that squandered it.
History is already watching.
