Olu Allen
There is something about the unfolding political realignments ahead of 2027 that deserves more than applause, condemnation or the usual partisan arguments.
General T.Y. Danjuma, former Speaker Yakubu Dogara and other influential political figures from the North and Middle Belt are rallying behind President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s second-term ambition.
This is not an insignificant political development.
These are people with influence, political networks, institutional relevance and considerable followership.
But beyond the political symbolism of this endorsement lies a question I find difficult to ignore:
What exactly are we celebrating: the growing confidence of the political establishment, or the improving confidence of the people whose lives government is supposed to protect?
Let’s take a step back.
The middlebelt has a long memory.
The Middle Belt has endured some of Nigeria’s most painful security tragedies.
Communities have been attacked. Families displaced. Farmers driven away from their ancestral lands. Innocent people killed.
Plateau, Benue, Southern Kaduna and other affected communities have become familiar names in our national tragedy.
General T.Y. Danjuma himself was once among the most vocal Nigerians to raise the alarm about the failure of security institutions to protect vulnerable communities.
In March 2018, he made a remarkable intervention, accusing the military of failing to protect Nigerians and urging communities to defend themselves.
His words were extraordinary, coming from a retired General and former Minister of Defence.
He warned that people who depended entirely on the armed forces for protection could continue to die.
That was not a minor political statement. It reflected the gravity of the insecurity confronting the country.
Today, his endorsement of Tinubu’s re-election presents an interesting opportunity for public examination.
Danjuma’s stated reasons include the President’s appointments of Christians and the argument that the South should complete eight years in office after Buhari’s eight years in the North.
These are political arguments that deserve to be examined on their own merits.
But here is my question:
Has the security situation improved sufficiently to justify the confidence being expressed by these political leaders?
If so, where are the measurable improvements, particularly in communities that have suffered the most?
These are legitimate questions. They are not accusations of betrayal.
Dogar has also made a security argument.
Former Speaker Yakubu Dogara has credited the Tinubu administration with remarkable improvements in security across parts of the North-East and North-Central.
He specifically pointed to improvements along the Abuja-Kaduna highway and the broader security situation.
That claim deserves attention.
If insecurity has declined in certain areas, Nigerians should acknowledge genuine progress. Government achievements should not be rejected simply because of political differences.
But security cannot be assessed only through political statements.
How many communities can now sleep peacefully?
How many displaced families have safely returned home?
How many farmers can access their farmlands without fear?
How many attacks have been prevented?
How many perpetrators have been arrested and successfully prosecuted?
And what is happening in communities where attacks and displacement remain a reality?
A road becoming safer is important. But the security of a nation cannot be measured by one road alone.
Then there is Rev. Ezekiel Dachomo.
Consider the public position of Plateau-based cleric Rev. Ezekiel Dachomo, whose advocacy has been closely associated with communities affected by violence in Plateau State.
When reports emerged suggesting that he had prayed for Tinubu and Shettima to win in 2027, he publicly rejected that interpretation.
He clarified that his prayers were for Nigeria and its people, not an endorsement of the APC presidential ticket.
There is a distinction worth appreciating here.
One can pray for a President without endorsing his re-election.
One can recognise a government’s achievements while demanding more from it.
And one can insist that the first responsibility of government is the protection of human life, the restoration of displaced communities and justice for victims.
That is not necessarily partisan politics. It is a legitimate civic responsibility.
Here is where the contradiction deserves our attention.
For a political elite, continuity may mean stability, access, influence, appointments and the opportunity to consolidate political relationships.
For a displaced farmer in Plateau, continuity may mean another four years of uncertainty if security does not improve.
For a mother who has lost a child to violence, political endorsements may sound very distant from the justice she is waiting for.
For a family that cannot return to its ancestral home, the number of influential personalities supporting a presidential candidate does not answer the question of when they can safely go home.
And this is where Nigerian politics becomes particularly interesting.
Political elites can endorse a President. But can they automatically endorse on behalf of every citizen who has suffered under the same administration?
I am not suggesting that every person in the Middle Belt opposes Tinubu. Neither am I suggesting that every Christian or victim of insecurity shares Dachomo’s position.
That would be another form of political generalisation.
What I am questioning is the assumption that endorsements from influential personalities automatically translate into popular acceptance.
Nigeria has a long history of confusing elite consensus with public consent.
The two are not necessarily the same.
The real test ahead of 2027.
Perhaps the most important question is not how many governors, generals, former speakers, billionaires or political heavyweights can stand behind a presidential candidate.
It is whether ordinary Nigerians can independently examine the government’s record and conclude that another four years are deserved.
If security has improved, demonstrate it with verifiable evidence.
If communities are safer, let the people living there tell their stories.
If displaced families are returning home, show the numbers.
If the government has delivered on its promises, let the results speak.
And if serious gaps remain, political endorsements should not become a shield against legitimate criticism.
Because ultimately, political power is not an award handed out by the elite to one another.
It is a public trust.
The endorsements are coming. The political calculations are becoming clearer.
But what about the people who are still waiting for the most basic dividend of democracy: the right to live, work, farm and sleep in their homes without fear?
I leave you with this question:
Is Tinubu’s growing elite acceptance a reflection of improved governance, or are Nigeria’s political elite moving ahead of the people they claim to represent?
Allen writes on public affairs and advocates for good governance.
