The air in Abuja felt thicker than usual in the early days of April. Heat shimmered above the cracked tarmac outside the People’s Democratic Party headquarters, where a lone flag struggled against the stillness. Inside the building, corridors that once echoed with voices plotting the future of Nigeria now seemed hollow, the doors half-shut and the meetings half-full. The plan to build a grand opposition coalition had withered before it could take root.
Barely four months into what was supposed to be the year of political resurgence, the effort led by Atiku Abubakar lay in disarray. Once a familiar figure rallying support across the country’s complex political terrain, Atiku had started the year holding closed-door meetings with men like Peter Obi and governors clinging to the PDP’s diminishing influence. Their goal was to translate public anger over Bola Tinubu’s economic reforms into a serious electoral threat. Removal of the petrol subsidy and the floating of the naira had triggered an inflationary spiral, making basic goods unattainable for millions. In markets from Kano to Calabar, prices shifted daily, written in hurried chalk across blackboards.
Yet, as the discontent rose in the streets, the alliances meant to capitalize on it were fracturing. By the time the opposition’s first major strategy session convened in Lagos, key players were already moving in different directions. Governor Sheriff Oborevwori’s announcement that Delta State would swing to the APC cut deep. Delta, once the PDP’s oil-rich bastion, became a symbol of the crumbling facade. Soon after, Ifeanyi Okowa, once Atiku’s trusted running mate, confirmed his own shift. The defections were not quiet betrayals. They were public declarations that the old alliances no longer held power.
In Akwa Ibom, Governor Umo Eno’s declaration of support for Tinubu tightened the ruling party’s grip on the south. In Rivers State, Tinubu’s declaration of a state of emergency, which suspended elected officials, ensured that a key PDP stronghold fell under his control without an election. From Adamawa to Plateau, one by one, governors who once pledged loyalty to the opposition recalibrated their futures around the incumbent president.
Inside the PDP’s national headquarters, disputes over leadership fed the chaos. Courts blocked efforts to remove the acting national chairman, Umar Damagum, exacerbating the uncertainty. Of the twelve PDP governors that began the year aligned with Atiku’s coalition strategy, only four remained firmly committed by the second quarter. Even among them, whispered conversations hinted at growing unease.
Across the political landscape, the Labour Party fared no better. Peter Obi’s movement, once buoyed by the youthful optimism of the Obidients, was tangled in a leadership dispute that sapped its momentum. Julius Abure’s refusal to yield influence to Obi divided the party, leading high-profile allies like Valentine Ozigbo and Kenneth Okonkwo to quietly distance themselves. A Supreme Court judgment that failed to provide clarity only deepened the confusion, leaving the party adrift at a critical moment.
The Labour Party’s loss of its small bloc of federal lawmakers and the courting of its only governor, Alex Otti, by Tinubu’s APC, signaled another front lost. Meetings once filled with slogans about transformation and new beginnings increasingly ended in resignation or silence.
Elsewhere, the New Nigeria Peoples Party watched defections hollow its ranks. Though Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso retained significant influence in Kano, the steady erosion of his support among second-tier leaders narrowed his options. In a country where Kano’s voter turnout can swing national elections, the courtship of Kwankwaso’s lieutenants by Tinubu’s emissaries spoke volumes.
In the federal parliament, opposition voices that once punctuated legislative sessions with sharp criticisms fell into uneasy collaboration with the ruling party. Longstanding organized labor groups, once vital allies in mobilizing public pressure, remained notably subdued. Their absence from the stage during the worst months of the economic crisis raised questions about quiet negotiations behind closed doors. In his latest book, former president Olusegun Obasanjo cast a shadow over the unions, accusing them of trading protest for personal gain. The unions pushed back against the allegations, but the damage to their credibility lingered.
Despite the deepening cost-of-living crisis and the lingering anger from the #Endbadgovernance protests, Tinubu projected confidence about his reelection. His spokesmen mocked Atiku’s efforts on social media, dismissing him as a perennial loser clinging to a collapsing movement.
There were still pockets of resistance. Former Senate president Bukola Saraki urged for the preservation of a viable opposition, warning that a one-party state would extinguish democratic accountability. In small press briefings and public forums, figures like Saraki argued that the need for credible alternatives was more urgent than ever. But their warnings felt increasingly like echoes against the growing consolidation of power.
Among analysts, opinions diverged on whether the opposition could recover. Deji Adeyanju, a lawyer based in Lagos, saw little chance of a reversal. In his view, the ethno-religious complexity of Nigerian politics would favor an incumbent southern president who had pledged to serve only one term. Without the urgency or unity needed to rally disparate groups, Adeyanju believed that even a late-stage Atiku-Obi alliance would falter against the machinery of incumbency.
Others pointed to Peter Obi’s insurgent campaign in 2023 as evidence that political movements could still catch fire quickly. Majid Dahiru argued that a new party with a clear ideology and a fresh slate of promises could reignite hope. Restoring the petrol subsidy, emphasizing transparency, and rejecting the entrenched elite’s patterns of governance might yet mobilize a restless electorate. However, building such a movement required a speed and coordination that had so far eluded the fractured opposition.
In the rural heartlands where the effects of economic reforms hit hardest, frustrations remained raw but disorganized. In towns across the Middle Belt and the far North, gatherings once filled with political debates now shifted to quiet survival strategies. Expectations that hunger and hardship would organically translate into electoral change grew dimmer with each defection and each broken alliance.
By early 2025, with campaign season looming closer, Tinubu’s strategists spoke less of defending their position and more of expanding their dominance. The APC’s inroads into traditional opposition strongholds reflected not just strategic alliances but a deeper recalibration of political expectations among Nigeria’s elite. Many who once gambled on Atiku or Obi now sought accommodation with a presidency they judged unlikely to be toppled.
In quiet corners of the PDP’s headquarters, the future looked no less grim. Flyers from the 2023 campaign curled at the edges, forgotten on bulletin boards. The coalition that once seemed possible had fractured under the twin pressures of ambition and fear. It was no longer a question of building a unified opposition to contest the next election. It was a question of whether an opposition could meaningfully exist at all.
In markets, in churches, in university halls, conversations about politics shifted tone. Disillusionment that once fueled marches and protests calcified into resignation. Tinubu’s confidence in reelection was not born from economic triumph or a groundswell of popular love. It was rooted in the cold math of political survival. He faced a broken opposition, a distracted labor movement, and a political class more interested in proximity to power than in principles or promises.
The memory of the 2023 election lingered, a reminder that even an unpopular leader could win if his opponents scattered. For Tinubu, the road to 2027 looked less like a battle and more like a march. Not because he had conquered the hearts of the people, but because those who might have stood against him were busy dismantling their own cause.