Olu Allen
There is a quiet law in politics that many only understand when it is too late:
Power does not reward loyalty. It recalibrates it.
And when it is done, it often moves on without sentiment.
This reflection is not driven by emotion, but by pattern recognition of how political systems behave once the struggle for power ends.
The case of Nasir El-Rufai offers a useful lens through which to examine this reality.
El-Rufai was not a passive supporter in the build-up to the 2023 elections.
He was one of the most visible northern political figures backing Bola Tinubu’s candidacy at a time when the political climate in his region was deeply divided.
He publicly aligned himself with the campaign and took positions that placed him at odds with significant regional sentiment.
That history is widely acknowledged.
What has followed since then has, however, reopened an old question in Nigerian politics: what becomes of those who invest heavily in the making of power once power is consolidated?
In most political systems, campaign alliances are built under pressure and dissolved under victory. The logic of elections is inclusion; the logic of governance is consolidation. And between those two logics, many actors fall through the cracks.
This is not unique to any administration. It is a structural feature of politics where individuals matter more during contests than after them.
LAW 1: The throne does not always preserve the memory of the staircase.
Those who help elevate power often carry the reminder of dependency. Once stability sets in, that reminder becomes politically inconvenient.
LAW 2: Political gratitude is rarely personal; it is strategic.
What looks like appreciation during campaigns often transforms into restructuring, redistribution, or quiet realignment after victory.
LAW 3: Visibility during ascent can become vulnerability after arrival.
The more central a figure is in a struggle, the more exposed they may become once the struggle ends.
And here is where the lesson becomes larger than any one individual.
For many political actors, particularly in the North and across Nigeria’s shifting coalition landscape, the assumption is often that proximity to victory guarantees security after victory.
That assumption is historically weak.
Because Nigerian political history repeatedly shows that alignment with winning coalitions does not always translate into protection within them.
This is not a warning rooted in fear. It is a reminder rooted in precedent.
If a political actor as central and visible as El-Rufai can become part of this pattern of post-election recalibration, then it should prompt reflection, not just from observers, but from current and aspiring power brokers across all regions.
Especially those who are today making fresh political calculations ahead of future elections.
The question is not whether alliances will be formed. They will.
The question is whether those alliances are built with an understanding of what happens after victory is secured.
Because in politics, victory does not end relationships. It reorganizes them.
And often, quietly but decisively, it redefines who remains close and who becomes politically distant.
This is why the real sophistication in politics is not just in winning power, but in understanding the architecture that survives after winning it.
Without that understanding, cycles repeat. Only the names change.
Allen writes on public affairs and advocates for good governance.
