The story of power in postcolonial Africa is often a story of men who begin as political actors within fragile democratic or quasi democratic systems and gradually transform themselves into towering personal rulers. In Nigeria, a similar concern is now shaping political discourse as observers examine the trajectory of President Tinubu and what many describe as an emerging system of personal rule. This concern is not born out of abstraction but from patterns that echo earlier African experiences where institutions were hollowed out and opposition weakened in the pursuit of centralized authority.
Across the continent, the phenomenon of personal rulers did not emerge in isolation. It is intertwined with the legacy of Françafrique, a network of political, economic, and military relationships through which France maintained influence over its former colonies. Within this system, leaders were cultivated, supported, and sustained so long as they aligned with external interests. Figures such as Jean-Bédel Bokassa rose from military ranks with French backing, crowned himself emperor, ruled with brutality, and was eventually overthrown when he became inconvenient. Lansana Conté seized power in a coup, consolidated authority through patronage and repression, and governed until his death while maintaining external alliances.
Similarly, Gnassingbé Eyadéma ruled Togo for decades after a coup, building a security state that ensured loyalty while serving strategic interests. Tombalbaye consolidated power through authoritarian measures before being killed in a coup by his own military. Paul Biya has remained in power for decades through electoral control and political suppression, maintaining a system that prioritizes regime survival. Mobutu Sese Seko exemplified the archetype of the Cold War strongman, enriching himself and maintaining control through repression while advancing foreign interests until he was eventually toppled. These leaders followed a pattern of emergence through instability, consolidation through coercion and patronage, and eventual decline when alliances shifted.
It is within this historical framework that I interpret the current Nigerian political landscape. I argue that Tinubu appears to be applying lessons drawn from these precedents. Central to this is the perception that crises within opposition political parties are not accidental but carefully orchestrated. Opposition parties appear fractured, weakened by internal disputes, defections, and leadership struggles. These fractures are being encouraged or exploited to ensure that by the time the 2027 elections arrive, viable opposition has been sufficiently weakened to present a near unchallenged path.
Political purges are another instrument in this process. Opposition figures such as Abubakar Malami, Nasir El-Rufai, Aminu Tambuwal, and Chris Ngige are victims of threats or actually coercion by the government. This coercion is designed either to silence dissent or compel alignment with the ruling power. At the same time, individuals like Yahaya Bello, with hands dipped in huge corruption scandals, reinforce the belief that enforcement mechanisms are selectively applied by the Tinubu government.
Another dimension of concern lies in the composition of security and military institutions. Here too exists a pattern of appointments that favors individuals from the president’s ethnic group. This approach mirrors strategies employed by leaders such as Saddam Hussein, Muammar Gaddafi, and the Assad family, who relied on tightly knit networks of loyalty within the security apparatus to maintain control. In such systems, the military and intelligence services evolve from national institutions into instruments of regime protection.
The behavior of state governors also reflects the shifting balance of power. The phrase “on your mandate we shall stand” has become symbolic of a broader dynamic in which elected executives appear increasingly deferential to the presidency. This deference is linked to fears surrounding judicial interpretations, particularly the possibility that the president could remove state state governors and sack state assemblies. Whether grounded in reality or perception, this fear reinforces a hierarchy in which subnational actors align closely with central power to ensure political survival.
Security agencies, in this narrative, are no longer seen purely as defenders of national stability but as enforcers of regime security. Reports of critics being threatened, detained, or harassed contribute to the perception that dissent is being systematically curtailed. When institutions designed to protect citizens are viewed instead as tools of political control, public trust erodes and democratic norms weaken.
The foregoing trajectory does not stop at political dominance. The next stage, I argue, will be constitutional amendment. With a compliant, rubber stamp legislature, my concern is that the president will pursue amendments to extend his tenure or even introduce forms of succession that entrench power within a narrow circle. Such developments would mark a decisive shift from democratic governance to personalized rule, effectively creating an imperial presidency.
Underlying all these concerns is that external influences continue to shape Nigerian political realities. The legacy of French political engineering, as seen in the era of Françafrique, is invoked as a template in Nigeria. In this view, the system being designed will only support the stability of regime and certain geopolitical interests but not empower Nigerians. The result is governance structures that prioritize control over accountability.
Amid this atmosphere, many Nigerians look beyond political maneuvering to a higher form of intervention. This invocation of Divine oversight reflects both frustration and hope. For many, only Allah can alter the course of a system that appears increasingly resistant to internal reform. Yet within the political arena, there is also a search for practical alternatives.
This is where the African Democratic Congress (ADC) enters the conversation. I see the growing convergence of opposition figures within its ranks as well as its popularity with the Nigerian masses as a potential turning point. It represents, in my view, a rare moment of unity in a fragmented landscape. The challenge, however, lies in translating this unity into credible political action.
For the ADC, the path forward demands discipline and transparency. Conducting credible primaries or arriving at a genuinely democratic consensus candidate is essential. Anything less risks repeating the very patterns that have led to the weakening of other opposition parites, particularly the PDP. Nigerians who are looking toward this platform as a vehicle for change expect a process that reflects integrity and collective purpose.
The stakes are high. The 2027 elections are not just another electoral cycle but a defining moment in our country’s political evolution. Whether Nigeria continues along a path toward centralized personal rule or reasserts its democratic foundations will depend on the actions of both those in power and those who seek to challenge it.
In the end, the making of an emperor is never the work of one individual alone. It is the product of institutions that yield, elites that align, and citizens who either resist or resign themselves to the status quo. Nigeria stands at such a crossroads. The outcome will shape not only its own future but also the broader narrative of governance in Africa.
