The celebration has barely died down, and already the political drama unfolding in Osun State is providing enough material for a Nollywood series. Adeleke won. The “Dancing Senator” is still dancing. But as they say in Hausa, “Bayan farawa, akwai karshe”—after the beginning, there is an end. And the end of that election has revealed more about Nigeria’s political soul than the campaign itself ever could.
Let us start with the most delicious irony of all. Governor Adeleke, fresh from his victory over the APC, promptly visited President Tinubu at the Presidential Villa to thank him for allowing a “free, fair” election. Kai! The same Adeleke who, in the months before the poll, was warning Nigerians about possible electoral malpractice by the federal government. The same man whose supporters were sweating bullets when the EFCC froze Osun State accounts days before the election. Now he is thanking the president for non-interference, and the Secretary to the Government of the Federation, Senator George Akume, is commending Tinubu for the same.
This is the Nigerian political dance at its finest. The NRM, a civil society group, has accused Adeleke of betraying his supporters by reaffirming support for Tinubu ahead of 2027. They have a point. But let us be honest: Adeleke is a politician, not a saint. He knows which side of the bread is buttered. As one analyst noted, Osun has demonstrated that electoral competition and political cooperation are not mutually exclusive—a governor can defeat the ruling party’s candidate at the state level and still express support for the incumbent President at the national level. This is not hypocrisy; this is survival. “Ina ruwa, ina kogi”—where is the water, and where is the river? Adeleke is simply swimming with the current.
Meanwhile, the APC is busy eating itself alive in Osun. In an open letter to President Tinubu dated August 18, a group calling itself the Osun APC Stakeholders Forum has blamed the party’s defeat squarely on the former governor and current Minister of Marine and Blue Economy, Gboyega Oyetola. According to them, Oyetola single-handedly imposed candidates, distributed 26 federal appointments and 332 ward coordinator positions to his loyalists, leaving other party stakeholders out in the cold. They wrote: “We believe this pattern of exclusion left the party’s base disengaged and cost us the support of critical stakeholders”.
This is the problem with being a one-party state in practice, as the CDD analyst Dengiyefa Angalapu put it. When you control 31 out of 36 states, as the APC now does, you begin to take things for granted. You forget that politics is about relationships, not just appointments. The APC lost Osun because it treated the party like a private estate. And now they are fighting among themselves while Adeleke enjoys his victory. The Catholic Bishops’ Conference of Nigeria warned Tinubu just weeks before the Osun election that the country is drifting towards a one-party state and that the President’s legacy should not be the weakening of political opposition but the strengthening of democratic institutions. The bishops were right. But when has the church’s or mosque’s warning ever stopped a Nigerian politician from doing exactly what he wants?
Now let us talk about the economic reality behind all this political maneuvering. While Adeleke dances and the APC fights, Nigerians are suffering. The federal government claims to have saved N15.8 trillion from fuel subsidy removal between June 2023 and December 2025. Finance Minister Taiwo Oyedele says the savings have helped fund wage adjustments, infrastructure, and debt servicing. But ask the average Nigerian what they feel, and they will tell you a different story. Kenneth Okonkwo, the ADC chieftain, said on Channels Television that N130, 000—the cost of filling a 100-litre tank—is almost two times the N70,000 minimum wage. “No rent, no food, no medicals, nothing,” he said.
Oby Ezekwesili, the former Minister of Education, put it even more bluntly. She said the only significant achievement of the Tinubu administration so far is macroeconomic stability, but that stability has not translated into improved living conditions. Inflation is quieter, the foreign exchange market is less volatile, but the cost of living for the average citizen is still “pretty high.” She argued that the inflationary crisis was avoidable and resulted from poor management and a combination of policy choices. Meanwhile, the ADC is using this economic pain as ammunition, arguing that Nigerians will reject a continuation of the current administration in 2027. Both Atiku and Tinubu have accused each other of economic ignorance after Atiku promised to restore fuel subsidy.
But here is the rub: the opposition is still fragmented. The G-100 initiative, a coalition pushing for a united opposition front, has been consulting with leaders of six opposition parties, including Atiku Abubakar (ADC), Peter Obi and Rabiu Kwankwaso (NDC). They have scheduled a national unity summit for August 31, where they hope to forge a common platform. But as I wrote in the first installment of this series, the Obi-Kwankwaso ticket is a political dud. Kwankwaso is a “spare tyre” on the NDC vehicle, and northerners will hardly vote for Obi simply because of Kwankwaso. The ADC itself has acknowledged that the coalition project is still “open,” despite the withdrawal of some prominent politicians from the earlier arrangement. They are trying to build a united front, but they are doing it with politicians who have more ambition than principles.
And then there is the issue of Nasir el-Rufai. The ADC has accused the federal government of keeping the former Kaduna governor in detention until after the 2027 election, calling him a “political prisoner”. This is a bold accusation, but it reflects the growing anxiety among opposition figures that the government is systematically weakening its rivals. The ADC has also warned that the court ruling on the NDC fits into a broader pattern of actions aimed at shrinking Nigeria’s democratic space. “Yesterday’s target was the NDC. Tomorrow, it could be anyone who dares to offer Nigerians an alternative,” the party stated.
As we look toward 2027, the signs are not good for the opposition. The APC controls 31 states. Some argue 32. The president is popular in his home base. The South-West is shaping up as a battleground where the APC is determined to reclaim lost ground. The economic pain is real, but pain alone does not win elections—organisation does. The opposition is fragmented, the APC is united… at least on the surface, and the ruling party has the advantage of incumbency. As I said in my last piece, the APC will almost certainly win the presidency in 2027, not because they are popular, but because there is no viable alternative. Many people believe that the Obi/Kwankwaso is viable but I personally don’t share that opinion. Not out of sentiment but dispassionate conviction.
The question is: what happens after 2027? If the opposition fails to unite, if the APC continues its dominance, if the economic pain persists, then what? The Catholic bishops warned that a weakened democratic space makes it increasingly difficult for citizens and institutions to hold government accountable. And if the government is not held accountable, then the rowing becomes harder, the water rises higher, and the oracle becomes silent.
As I sit here in Abuja, watching the dust settle on the Osun election, I am reminded of this gem: “Kowa ya san inda ruwa ya kai sai ya tsaya”—everyone knows where the water has reached and must stop. The water has reached the neck, my friends. We are either going to learn to swim, or we are going to drown. And from the looks of it, the politicians are too busy politicking to notice that the water is rising.
Allah ya bamu sa’a.
To be continued.
