Atiku And The Electoral Mountain: Time To Disembark, Sir -By Isaac Asabor

In politics, as in life, knowing when to step forward is a skill, but knowing when to step aside is wisdom. For former Vice President Atiku Abubakar, it is time for the latter. The man has climbed Nigeria’s electoral mountain for far too long. He has fought gallantly, invested heavily, endured betrayals, made alliances, and rebranded himself more times than most politicians in modern Nigerian history. But the time has come for the Waziri of Adamawa to disembark. If not for the sake of political dignity, then for the future of the very democracy he claims to defend.

Atiku’s political career is the stuff of a Nigerian epic. His first presidential attempt was as far back as 1993 under the Social Democratic Party (SDP), where he lost the primary to M.K.O. Abiola. Many forget this, but Atiku was once considered a “third force” candidate, a symbol of hope for the emerging class of technocrats and pro-democracy advocates. Fast forward over 30 years, and he is now a fixture in every major election cycle, almost like a recurring decimal in Nigeria’s political equation.

Since returning to democracy in 1999, Atiku has either contested or expressed interest in every presidential election. In 2007, he ran under the banner of the Action Congress (AC), after falling out with President Obasanjo in a bitter political divorce. In 2011, he returned to the PDP and lost the primary to Goodluck Jonathan. In 2015, he aligned with the newly formed APC, only to fall short again. He returned to the PDP in 2019, clinched the ticket, and ran against Buhari. He lost. Again, in 2023, he emerged as PDP’s flagbearer, going toe-to-toe with Bola Tinubu and Peter Obi in what was arguably Nigeria’s most polarizing election in recent history. Once more, defeat.

At this point, any reasonable observer must ask: when is enough, enough? There is nothing inherently wrong with ambition. In fact, ambition is often the engine that drives transformational leadership. But when ambition becomes obsession, when it deafens a leader to reality, and when it clogs the pipeline for younger, innovative minds, it ceases to be admirable, it becomes dangerous. And that is where Atiku’s current trajectory is headed.

Let us break it down: Atiku has now contested the presidency six times, either at the primaries or in the general elections. Six times. That is more than any other major political actor in Nigeria’s history. Even the late Obafemi Awolowo, revered for his intellectual contributions and fierce nationalism, did not run this many times. Atiku’s persistence, admirable as it may seem, is now bordering on political gluttony.

Nigeria has changed. The electorate has changed. The voting bloc is now younger, more digitally savvy, more idealistic, and more desperate for change than ever before. In 2023, the explosion of the Peter Obi “Obidient” movement demonstrated that the youth are no longer interested in the same recycled faces and worn-out rhetoric. They want leaders who reflect their aspirations, not reminders of a past they are trying to escape.

And here lies the real problem with Atiku’s continued candidacy: he has become the face of the old order. An order associated with elite power-broking, intra-party wheeling and dealing, and a kind of transactional politics that the masses are no longer willing to stomach. Despite running with youthful running mates and speaking the language of reform, Atiku cannot shake off the baggage of the past. Whether it is the ghost of privatization deals during his VP tenure, or the perception of elite entitlement, Atiku’s brand has lost its magic.

His inability to win over his home region is another red flag. In 2023, Atiku lost Adamawa State, his supposed political fortress, to the APC. That was no small matter. It revealed the erosion of his grassroots influence and the growing disillusionment even among those who once saw him as the North’s most formidable political export.

Then there is the matter of consistency, or rather, the lack of it. Atiku has changed political parties more times than most people have changed their phone numbers. From PDP to AC, then back to PDP, then to APC, and then back to PDP again. This political nomadism, while perhaps strategic in the short term, has cost him credibility in the long run. Voters now see him as a man more interested in finding a winning vehicle than standing for a clear set of values.

But let us play devil’s advocate for a moment. What if Atiku wins the 2027 ticket again? What if his massive financial war chest once more secures the loyalty of party delegates? What if his old allies rally around him again? Even then, what would be the point? Can a man who has lost six times and failed to unite his base suddenly become the candidate to unite a fractured, deeply polarized nation? Can he truly inspire the kind of hope needed to drag Nigeria out of the socioeconomic abyss it finds itself in?

There comes a time in every political career when the torch must be passed. That time came and went for Atiku after the 2019 elections. Many expected him to retire as a statesman, perhaps founding a leadership institute, writing a memoir, or mentoring the next generation of PDP candidates. Instead, he plunged right back into the 2023 race, ignoring the emerging realities and riding on the same old strategy. The result? Another bruising loss and a party left in confusion.

Nigerian politics desperately needs reinvention. And reinvention cannot happen when figures like Atiku continue to cast long shadows over younger aspirants. His insistence on staying in the race is not just a personal political tragedy, it is a generational blockade. Imagine what could happen if the likes of Atiku used their resources and influence to mentor young, vibrant leaders instead of crowding them out. Imagine a PDP where new voices are given prominence, not merely tolerated. That is the party that could genuinely challenge the APC and restore hope to Nigerians.

As we inch towards 2027, there will be calls for restructuring, coalition-building, and new political narratives. But none of those can take root if Nigeria remains trapped in the orbit of men who have overstayed their political relevance.

Atiku should take the honorable path. He should announce that he has quit presidential contest. He should focus on strengthening institutions, supporting internal party democracy, and lending his voice to national issues from a statesman’s perspective, not as a candidate. That would be the ultimate service to a country that gave him so much and asked for so little in return.

The electoral mountain is not a throne. It is a testing ground. Atiku has been tested. Repeatedly. And the people, time and again, have delivered their verdict. Sir, the mountain is not yours to conquer. It is time to disembark, with your dignity intact.

Let the younger ones climb now. Let the new voices echo. Let the winds of change finally breathe through Nigeria’s stifled political atmosphere. The future is knocking, and it is asking, not begging for space.