The political landscape in Nigeria has been marked by dramatic shifts, and the rumors surrounding Rabiu Kwankwaso’s potential defection to the APC have raised questions not just about his personal ambitions, but about the broader impact on his home state of Kano, northern Nigeria as well as the nation’s political future.
Kwankwaso has been a key player in Nigerian politics, particularly in Kano, where his influence runs deep. Yet, his potential defection to the APC raises a crucial question: what tangible benefits will this bring to Kano and, more importantly, what implications will it have for his own political future?
When evaluating the potential implications of Kwankwaso’s defection to the ruling party, it is crucial to consider the strategic advantages such a political realignment might confer upon both his personal political trajectory and the broader interests of Kano State. Central to this is the question of whether such a move could result in substantive political gains, such as the allocation of a vice presidential candidacy, the appointment to a prominent ministerial portfolio, or a combination of both. These potential benefits would not only elevate Kwankwaso’s national profile but could also translate into increased federal influence and resource allocation for Kano.
Given the above, it is reasonable to speculate that a strategic alignment with the APC could serve as a conduit for enhanced national influence. However, the critical question remains: what tangible benefits would such a realignment yield for Kano State and northern Nigeria? Would the state secure key positions within the federal executive structure, such as the vice presidency being speculated or a greater number of ministerial appointments?
Furthermore, if Kwankwaso were to replace vice presidential Shettima, would such a role translate into substantive developmental outcomes for Kano, or merely function as a symbolic gesture with limited practical impact as it has been with Borno State and the northeast so far?
Borno State offers a cautionary example in assessing the potential benefits of a VP slot in a Tinubu-led administraation. Borno has yet to experience meaningful socio-economic transformation resulting from federal government policies and projects as Lagos, or any states in the southwest.
The region is now grappling with Boko Haram comeback, chronic underdevelopment, and insufficient infrastructure. This disconnect between political representation at the highest levels and on-the-ground outcomes raises critical questions about the efficacy of such political appointments.
One of the most consequential implications of Kwankwaso’s potential defection APC is the likely diminution—or even termination—of his presidential ambitions. While a high-ranking position within the federal government may appear to offer short-term gains, such a move could effectively foreclose any realistic path to the presidency. Even if an informal agreement were reached to position him as a vice presidential candidate in the 2027 election, the fluid and unpredictable nature of Nigerian political arrangements renders such assurances tenuous at best. In Nigeria’s political history, it is not uncommon for sitting presidents to renege on earlier promises, especially once they have consolidated power or see the strategic value in reshaping electoral plans.
The case of Vice President Kashim Shettima illustrates this dynamic starkly. Despite occupying the second-highest office in the country, Shettima appears to have been systematically sidelined by President Tinubu, with little visible influence over key decisions. If Kwankwaso were to assume a similar role, he could likewise find himself relegated to the periphery of power, with just the title but devoid of meaningful authority.
Furthermore, the attendant financial and bureaucratic constraints inherent under a personal ruler as Tinubu will significantly hamper Kwankwaso’s ability to implement the programs and initiatives that have defined his political identity. The Kwankwasiyya movement, which has been the bedrock of his influence, could fracture if he is limited by the president’s agenda or made ineffective by political manipulation. Even if Kwankwaso is given a prominent role, his ability to fulfill his promises to his supporters would be severely limited by the constraints of the office.
Arguably, another profound consequence of Kwankwaso’s potential defection to the ruling party would be the erosion of trust and loyalty among his grassroots supporters. For years, Kwankwaso has cultivated a political identity centered on advocacy for the marginalized and underprivileged, particularly within Kano State and northern Nigeria. His political brand, deeply intertwined with the populist ethos of the Kwankwasiyya movement, has portrayed him as a steadfast defender of the masses. This has secured him a loyal base, drawn largely from communities that have felt excluded from the benefits of national governance.
However, cross carpeting to the APC, a party perceived to be responsible for the country’s current socio-economic and political malaise, risks losing the very people upon whom his political strength depends. The average Nigerian sees the APC as emblematic of the hardships of the past decade, a narrative Kwankwaso himself has made very popular. Thus, his moving to the party could therefore be construed as a betrayal of his long-standing commitments, and will definitely incite backlash among his followers.
In politics, a politician’s grassroots base is not merely a source of electoral support but a fundamental pillar of legitimacy and political survival. The loss of this foundation could severely undermine Kwankwaso’s influence across northern Nigeria and render him politically empty as the long-term cost to his political capital could be substantial and irreversible.
If Kwankwaso does defect to the APC, it seems clear that President Bola Tinubu would emerge as the true beneficiary. Tinubu, who has recently said that political power must be fought for, grabbed, snatched, and run away with, is a shrewd political strategist. Should Kwankwaso join the APC, Tinubu would likely extract as much value as possible from the situation, and ensure that his own political fortunes are secured while leaving Kwankwaso with little power or influence.
The president has demonstrated his ability to manipulate political figures and ensure that they fall in line with his agenda. If Tinubu successfully brings Kwankwaso into the fold, it could be a move to neutralize a potential rival, securing his own control over the APC and Nigeria’s political future. In the end, Tinubu would likely win out in this political chess game, while Kwankwaso could find himself sidelined, powerless, and without any meaningful influence.
Finally, any northern Nigerian politician who permits himself to be instrumentalized in replacing the current vice president must reckon with the broader implications such a move holds for the principle of power rotation in Nigeria. At stake is not merely an individual appointment, but the potential dismantling of a delicate political arrangement designed to foster national unity through equitable power-sharing across regions. If the vice presidency is used as a tokenistic consolation in the face of a long-term entrenchment of presidential power in one region, it would signal a shift toward a more centralized and regionally imbalanced political order.
Such a trajectory bears resemblance to patterns observed in other African states, particularly in former French colonies, where the notion of power rotation has been subverted to entrench apermanent ruling elite aligned with specific geopolitical or foreign interests. This model effectively sidelines large segments of the population from meaningful participation in national leadership. The fear, then, is that President Tinubu may be laying the groundwork for a similar political
architecture in Nigeria, one where presidential power becomes regionally monopolized while other positions are merely symbolic concessions.
