Consensus or Confusion? Can Oyo APC Survive 2027 Without Adelabu as Its Flagbearer? -By Oluwafemi Popoola

Something is cooking inside the Oyo APC kitchen and the aroma is already escaping through the windows. A political storm is brewing. As 2027 draws closer, the whispers are gradually turning into microphone announcements. From accusations of candidate imposition to strategic endorsements that look suspiciously like arranged marriages, many party members are beginning to wonder whether the governorship ticket will be won at the ballot or decided over plates of amala and closed-door meetings. Standing at the centre of this political storm is Adebayo Adelabu — banker, technocrat, politician, and now the man whose governorship ambition has once again positioned him as the main character in one of Oyo State’s most gripping political contests.

The recent protest staged by APC members in Ibadan over alleged plans to impose a consensus candidate exposed cracks many had long suspected existed within the party. The aggrieved members rejected any attempt to handpick a candidate behind closed doors, insisting instead on direct primaries as the only credible pathway capable of preserving fairness, transparency and internal democracy. Their anger was reportedly triggered by growing support within some party circles for Senator Sharafadeen Alli as a preferred consensus option for the governship race.

I honestly find the current situation both entertaining and mildly terrifying. It’s like watching a football club bench all its strikers before a cup final and then acting surprised when fans start panicking. A close friend called me shortly after reports flooded the media that Senator Sheradeen Alli had allegedly emerged as the consensus choice for the Oyo APC governorship ticket. “What kind of spell has been cast on Oyo APC?” he asked dramatically. “At this point, somebody should check whether the party secretariat was built on an ancient shrine.” He continued repeatedly, clearly stunned by the development.

I nearly choked laughing, but he was dead serious. To him, it was unbelievable that a party desperate to reclaim power in Oyo State could allegedly settle for a candidate many voters still struggle to connect with emotionally. According to him, Alli has spent nearly three years in the Senate without the kind of loud, visible achievements politicians usually paste on billboards every five minutes. “In this country,” my friend said, “even a borehole commissioning gets documentary coverage. So where exactly is the noise”?

What made the matter even more confusing for him was the fact that the APC would likely be facing the political structure of Governor Seyi Makinde, a man whose supporters defend him with the passion of football fans during a Champions League final. Whether people like to admit it or not, Makinde has built serious goodwill across Oyo State over the last seven years. Youths love him, civil servants praise him, pensioners mention his name like morning devotion, and some supporters practically talk about him as if he personally parted the Red Sea at Eleyele. “You want to challenge that kind of popularity,” my friend asked, “and your strategy is to present somebody Nigerians may mistake for a committee chairman at a PTA meeting?”

Funny? Absolutely. But beneath the sarcasm lies a genuine concern many party loyalists quietly share: is the APC truly preparing for battle, or are they rehearsing for another season of post-election press conferences explaining what went wrong?

But beyond the noise of endorsements, protests and party calculations comes a deeper story about identity, inheritance, resilience and the dangerous gamble the APC may be taking if it edges Adelabu out of the race before the people even get the chance to decide. What makes the situation even more significant is that Adelabu is not an ordinary political actor in Oyo State. His name carries unusual historical and emotional weight.

In Ibadan, names matter. Not all names. Some names merely exist on signboards. Others live inside people’s memories like folklore. “Adelabu” is one of those names. Long before Adebayo Adelabu became Minister of Power, before he became a governorship aspirant, before he wore agbada on campaign stages, the Adelabu name already echoed through the political soul of Ibadan because of his grandfather, the legendary Gbadamosi Adegoke Adelabu — Penkelemesi himself.

Even today, mention “Penkelemesi” in many parts of Ibadan and watch elderly men suddenly sit up with pride like they have just heard the name of an old warrior. The late Adegoke Adelabu was a phenomenon. He was also an astute politician and brilliant grassroots mobiliser. A charismatic populist. A self-made political giant whose rise from humble beginnings to national prominence became part of Yoruba political mythology. Decades after his death, people still talk about him in beer parlours, under mango trees and inside commercial buses as though he only died yesterday.

That inheritance is both a blessing and a burden for Adebayo Adelabu.

The blessing is obvious. The name opens doors emotionally. In many Ibadan homes, the Adelabu name still carries emotional equity. But the burden is heavier. When your grandfather is Penkelemesi, people do not merely expect competence from you. They expect political magic. They expect charisma. They expect endurance. They expect destiny itself to cooperate with you. And to be fair, Adelabu has spent years trying to prove he is more than just a beneficiary of a famous surname.

Unlike many Nigerian politicians whose résumés begin and end with “political strategist,” Adelabu actually built a serious corporate career before politics dragged him fully into its muddy battlefield. First class degree holder from Obafemi Awolowo University. Fellow of ICAN. Banking executive. Financial expert. Former top official at the Central Bank of Nigeria. Executive Director at First Bank of Nigeria. A man who sat in boardrooms before he stood on campaign podiums. Many ordinary people in Oyo still reference this when discussing him.

I remember hearing a commercial driver in Mokola say sometime ago, “At least this one understands figures. Maybe he won’t use calculator upside down.” Everybody inside the bus laughed. That is classic Ibadan humour. But beneath the joke was a serious point about competence.

And competence matters in Oyo right now.
The average resident of Ibadan is exhausted by politics that produces drama without development. Traders complain about economic hardship. Civil servants grumble about survival. Young people want jobs, roads, security and opportunities instead of endless political wrestling. So when many APC supporters look at Adelabu, they see someone who combines technocratic experience with political familiarity. To them, he looks like the APC’s strongest possible weapon against the ruling machinery of Makinde and the PDP/APM alliance in 2027. Which is why the current attempt to edge him out is creating tension inside the party.

The protest by APC members in Ibadan against the alleged imposition of a consensus candidate revealed something deeper — fear among grassroots members that powerful interests may already be trying to write the script before the primary election even begins. The rejection of consensus arrangements and the demand for direct primaries show that many party loyalists want an open contest, not a coronation ceremony.

And if we are being honest, that fear is understandable. Oyo APC has a long history of internal battles, wounded ambitions and political betrayals. The party has repeatedly entered elections divided against itself, almost like a football team where the defenders are secretly tackling their own striker. Every cycle produces factions. Every faction produces bitterness. Every bitterness eventually weakens the party at the polls. That is why the Adelabu situation feels dangerous

Politics, especially in South-West Nigeria, is emotional before it becomes mathematical. The late Chief Lamidi Adedibu understood that truth. So did Obafemi Awolowo. So did Bola Ahmed Tinubu. Before votes are counted, a politician must first occupy public imagination. Adelabu still does.

Because whether one likes him or not, he remains one of the few APC figures in Oyo capable of generating genuine public excitement beyond party structures. His official declaration on May 12, just few days, at the historic Obafemi Awolowo Stadium was evidence of that reality. Crowds flooded the venue. Chants echoed across the stadium. Market women danced. Youths waved banners. Artisans turned the event into a carnival.

One elderly man who attended the declaration told me something revealing. “You can abuse Adelabu online all you want,” he said, “but when he appears physically, people follow him naturally.” That sentence stayed with me. It explained the contradiction many analysts struggle to understand. How does a man associated with Nigeria’s troubled power sector still command such a massive following in Ibadan? The answer is simple: politics is rarely one-dimensional.

In Yoruba politics, emotional ownership is powerful currency. When people begin to see a politician as “our own,” logic sometimes steps aside for loyalty. Adelabu benefits from that sentiment, especially in Ibadan where his family roots run deep through Oke-Oluokun and Kudeti.

But the road ahead remains brutal. His opponents know this too. Inside the APC, the battle ahead is fierce. Sharafadeen Alli had earlier declared interest in the same governorship seat. And unlike ordinary aspirants, Alli’s ambition appears to carry the quiet but visible blessing of powerful political forces. Most significant is the perceived support of Olubadan of Ibadan, Oba Rashidi Ladoja, whose influence in Ibadan politics remains enormous despite his transition from partisan politics into royal leadership.

History matters in this contest. Sharafadeen Alli was not merely an associate of Ladoja. He was one of his closest loyalists during the turbulent years of political warfare against the Adedibu machine. When Ladoja faced impeachment and humiliation, Alli reportedly stood firmly beside him. In Yoruba political culture, loyalty during adversity is remembered longer than loyalty during victory. It is one reason many believe the Olubadan’s sympathy naturally tilts toward Alli. But politics is not built on sentiment alone.

If the APC eventually adopts direct primaries as expected, the arithmetic changes dramatically. Direct primaries reward popularity, structure, grassroots penetration and emotional connection with ordinary party members. This is where Adelabu’s camp believes it has an edge. And many members see Adelabu as the most marketable face against Makinde’s successor, in 2027.

Ironically, Adelabu, despite being perceived as one of the president’s loyal men, reports suggest Adelabu’s declaration was conspicuously avoided by several National Assembly members and influential APC state executives. That absence did not go unnoticed. In fact, it deepened suspicions that powerful forces close to the presidency may quietly be working against his ambition.

Politics can be brutally ironic. A man seen publicly as part of the federal establishment may privately be fighting for survival against the same establishment. And that seems to be Adelabu’s current reality. But perhaps this is also why many of his supporters appear emotionally invested in his struggle. They see a politician battling both opposition parties and internal enemies simultaneously.

But here is the truth the APC must confront: removing Adelabu from the ballot through internal manipulation may create consequences far bigger than one man’s disappointment. It could fracture the party.
Again.

Many of Adelabu’s supporters already believe he was unfairly treated in previous political battles. They still remember how he lost the APC governorship ticket in 2022 and defected to the Accord Party afterward. They remember the bitterness. They remember the division. And many fear history may be preparing another ugly sequel.

The APC cannot afford that mistake if it genuinely wants to reclaim Oyo in 2027.
Because politics is not only about satisfying powerful stakeholders. It is also about reading public mood correctly. And whether critics like it or not, Adelabu still commands significant emotional connection among ordinary people in Oyo.

I think many people underestimate this because Nigerian social media often creates false realities. Online criticism can be loud, savage and entertaining. But elections are won offline — in markets, mosques, churches, beer parlours, mechanic workshops and street corners where ordinary people discuss who they trust with power.

And in many of those conversations, Adelabu’s name still carries weight. Perhaps that is why this current political battle feels like the fiercest fight of his life. It is no longer merely about ambition. It is about legacy. About survival. About proving that the Adelabu political dynasty still possesses enough fire to shape Oyo’s future.

For Adebayo Adelabu, the battle ahead may determine whether he finally completes the political journey his grandfather never had the chance to finish before fate intervened in 1958.

And for the APC, the question is simple but dangerous: can the party truly afford to push one of its most recognisable political assets out of the game at the very moment it desperately needs unity to return to power in Oyo State? And whatever anyone thinks about Adebayo Adelabu, he cannot be politically ignored. In politics, sometimes survival itself is the first sign of strength.

Oluwafemi Popoola is a Nigerian journalist, media strategist, and columnist. He can be reached via bromeo2013@gmail.com