The North and Politics of Anger
By Kabiru Danladi Lawanti
We are back again to a familiar scenario.
Since the return of democracy in Nigeria, the North has repeatedly found itself in a precarious situation – especially during election campaign years. It is a pattern that has been observable since around 2000, when sections of the northern elite concluded that President Obasanjo had plans different from those of the power brokers who helped bring him to office.
From that moment, a familiar script unfolded. We began writing, cursing, and manufacturing enemies for the region in what became a coordinated campaign to discredit Obasanjo ahead of the 2003 elections. Rather than confront our internal challenges, we blamed everyone else for the backwardness of the region – a region tragically defined by widespread poverty, almajiri children, out-of-school youth, begging, and a troubling lack of direction.
When it became obvious that Obasanjo would secure a second term in 2003, the music changed – and so did the dance.
Even when the North regained the presidency in 2007, Umaru Musa Yar’Adua did not find it easy. Those who felt betrayed by Obasanjo for not being anointed as his successor turned their frustration inward. Yar’Adua faced stiff resistance from elements within his own political constituency until his untimely death in 2010.
When Goodluck Jonathan assumed office as Acting President, many in the North believed he would just complete Yar’Adua’s term and hand over power to a northerner in 2011. But Jonathan had his own political calculations. Once he won the 2011 election, parts of the northern elite revived their hostility toward him, branding him a betrayer of an unwritten agreement. The hostility and campaigns of calumny persisted for four years, culminating in his defeat by Muhammadu Buhari in 2015.
When Buhari came to power, some of us thought the northern elite had learned their lesson, that political power would finally translate into meaningful development for the region. Shockingly, many soon realized that the struggle for power was never primarily about the people. It was about access – access to influence, contracts, and national resources.
After Buhari’s eight years in office, the revelations were sobering. Media reports detailed allegations of monumental corruption. A minister was accused of amassing assets worth over ₦212 billion. An Accountant-General was accused of diverting ₦109 billion. The NNPC GMD was alleged to have mismanaged or overseen the loss of over ₦4 trillion. Whether in courts or public discourse, these figures painted a troubling picture.
Now, once again, we are back to this familiar script. With no clearly articulated blueprint, no coherent development agenda, and no unified vision for the region, we are once again mobilizing against a southern president – this time with the same intensity and bravado that defined 2002 and 2014. The objective appears simple: regain power. But to what end? For what concrete purpose? On this, there seems to be little clarity.
What exactly do we want for our people in this cycle of transactional politics? Instead of perpetual anger and political combat, what is our long-term plan?
What is our strategy for addressing the persistent Christian-Muslim tensions in parts of the North? What do we intend to do about the almajiri system, the growing population of beggars, and the millions of out-of-school children? How do we decisively confront banditry, terrorism, and the remnants of Boko Haram? What is our position on allegations, pressures, or geopolitical manoeuvres regarding foreign military presence in the region under the guise of protection? Have we carefully examined the implications of hosting foreign commandos on our soil, given the experiences of other countries?
As we approach the 2027 elections, we must ask ourselves; are we just reacting emotionally to perceived slights, or are we strategically positioning the region for long-term stability and development?
When Tinubu negotiated the 2015 political alliance with Buhari, the Southwest secured tangible political leverage and influence that it continues to benefit from. What comparable strategic gains can the North point to today?
Instead, much of our political energy is consumed by factional disputes – Ribadu versus El-Rufai, Abba versus Kwankwaso, speculation about Pantami’s governorship ambitions. In many of the WhatsApp political groups we participate in, the dominant narrative revolves around claims that Tinubu hates the North, that elections will be rigged, that unseen actors are plotting manipulation.
But where exactly will this lead us?
Political power, without a clearly defined regional agenda rooted in education reform, economic revitalization, social cohesion, and security restructuring, is hollow. If we return to power without a blueprint, we will simply recycle the same elite competition, while the structural problems of the region deepen.
If we do not define a concrete vision for the North before 2027, we risk repeating the same cycle – again and again, while our people continue to pay the price.
