Africa
Serial Defeats, a Game Changer, and the Reality of the Change -By Bilyamin Abdulmumin
Buhari’s eight years in office were filled with frustration and unmet expectations. To say people were disappointed would be an understatement. But if you believe that Buhari lost an iota of his integrity or honesty, you can also believe that the ruling party doesn’t have a hand in the opposition crisis. In serious note, the reality lies somewhere in between these: only one honest man cannot bring the desired change among the pool of unlike minds, nor can he bring that using a weak and battered system. This reminds me of a test I took in my 100-level morality class back in 2007. Let me throw the question at you: How can one live in an immoral society?
Just reflecting on President Muhammadu Buhari’s later life with my entire life. By the time Buhari was at the helm of Nigerian affairs in the 1980s, I hadn’t even been born. When I finally arrived, he was already incarcerated and languishing in prison.
It was during that period—his time in prison and the years following it- that Buhari’s popularity soared. Ironically, IBB helped elevate Buhari’s public image. Everything Buhari was once accused of—authoritarianism, economic hardship, and rigid policies—arguably worsened under IBB. IMF loan and Structural Adjustment Programme (SAP), for example, are two policies kept lamenting by older figures. People began to look back on Buhari’s rule with nostalgia. Despite the hardship of his time, many remembered the discipline, the law, and the order under his rule.
Buhari’s return to public service came during General Abacha’s era, when he chaired the Petroleum Trust Fund (PTF). I remember when I suffered a knee dislocation in 2001 and being admitted to the National Orthopaedic Hospital in Kano. Something struck me: how everything seemed to carry the stamp of the PTF. From bedsheets to food trays, TV sets, fans, and even drug packets. I was so intrigued, I asked one of the nurses, “What is this PTF?”
Buhari’s most dramatic comeback came in 2002, when he made a foray into politics. That was the beginning of our generation’s unshakable love with the Buhari phenomenon. Older people told us stories about his military regime—some good, some bad. Yet, even the “bad” policies seem appealing to many of us youths: Tales of people being beaten for skipping queues or hoarding goods, or the aborted smuggling of Umar Dikko from the UK. The only policy I found sympathetic was the sudden currency change. The timeline was too short.
During the 2003 and 2015 elections, when Buhari contested the presidency three times without success, his strongest asset, he reckoned with was the poor people. The Nigerian system was riddled with loopholes and vulnerabilities, so expecting an election that would favor an opposition candidate is like expecting Kankwaso to join ADC. But then came two game-changing factors: the introduction of the card reader and PVC, and the formation of a mega opposition coalition. With that foundation in place, all Buhari needed was a solid political platform, which the APC provided. In 2015, all the stars aligned, and the rest is history.
Buhari’s eight years in office were filled with frustration and unmet expectations. To say people were disappointed would be an understatement. But if you believe that Buhari lost an iota of his integrity or honesty, you can also believe that the ruling party doesn’t have a hand in the opposition crisis. In serious note, the reality lies somewhere in between these: only one honest man cannot bring the desired change among the pool of unlike minds, nor can he bring that using a weak and battered system. This reminds me of a test I took in my 100-level morality class back in 2007. Let me throw the question at you: How can one live in an immoral society?
