Before 2015, Muhammadu Buhari had already attained near-mythical status in northern Nigeria. His name was a household one, his presence commanding spontaneous crowds wherever he went. Unlike the orchestrated gatherings of today, pre-APC Buhari rallies were largely organic — a stark contrast to the “crowd-renting” culture now thriving in the harsh realities of hunger and desperation. The hunger has created an entire ecosystem where crowds are hired for pittances, their purpose often forgotten mid-chant. But let’s move past that: “Ebi kii wo inu, ki oro mi wo” — when hunger bites, reason flees. “The crowd industry” is topic for another day.
The much-cited “12 million votes” that followed Buhari is no myth. In 2003, he secured 32% of the national votes against a sitting President, Olusegun Obasanjo. He replicated similar figures three times, each time consistently delivering over 12 million votes, except in 2007 when another northerner, Umaru Musa Yar’Adua, momentarily dampened his dominance. Yet even against fellow northerners like Atiku Abubakar, Buhari’s pull remained formidable.
In 2015, Buhari commanded an unwavering core northern loyalty, backed by a voter population exceeding 30 million. His support base displayed a cult-like devotion — fierce, unexplainable, and at times, almost desperate for affirmation.
To many, Buhari embodies the ideal northern Muslim leader — an image crafted around perceived virtues of integrity, simplicity, and frugality, resonating strongly with the large poor population. His portrayal as incorruptible finds its roots in 2001 when Buhari openly championed the adoption of Sharia law across northern states. After President Obasanjo made remarks hinting at a possible halt to Sharia implementation, Buhari countered boldly, declaring that Sharia would “sweep across the country”. That stance, controversial as it was, boosted his reputation among northern faithful and later became a campaign liability in 2015 — one he overcame spectacularly, losing only three northern states.
Curiously, many analysts argue that Buhari himself is not a deeply religious individual and that his presidency showed little sign of any intent to “Islamise” Nigeria. His 2001 pronouncements were likely astute political moves, calculated to anchor his political fortunes in the conservative North. Regardless, his popularity has not waned. After eight years in office, he returned to Katsina State to a hero’s welcome, and more recently, was similarly celebrated in Kaduna — the place he fondly calls home.
In Working with Buhari, Femi Adesina, the president’s spokesman, recounts in Chapter 4 (“The Wailing Wailers”) how Buhari’s popularity in the north endured despite harsh criticisms and oppositions. Large crowds continued to welcome him enthusiastically during visits — a testament to his resilient support base.
Similarly, the seasoned journalist, Farooq Kperogi, put it succinctly: “Given the oversized influence of Islamic clerics in shaping public opinion in Muslim Northern Nigeria, no amount of logic, evidence-based reasoning, economic hardship, etc., will make the littlest dent on Buhari’s popularity in the Muslim North.”
Buhari’s silence, often criticised elsewhere, remains a language well understood by his northern followers.
In the 2023 elections, he was accused of not vigorously supporting his party’s candidate, Bola Tinubu. Though Buhari made a symbolic display by flashing his voter’s slip after casting his ballot for the APC, the damage had been done. Tinubu lost several strongholds, and whispers persist that Buhari subtly leaned toward Atiku during the election.
Yet Atiku is hardly Buhari. For all his attempts, Atiku remains an impostor in the quest for the northern crown. Winning national elections in Nigeria demands strategic galvanising — something Atiku has never mastered. Unlike Buhari, who inspired a mass movement, Atiku’s political fortunes lean heavily on deep pockets rather than organic followership.
In 2015, it was Tinubu and his ACN-led coalition that provided Buhari the national machinery to convert his 12 million cult following into presidential victory. In 2023, it was Nasir el-Rufai in the north and Nyesom Wike with his G5 friends in the south that oiled Tinubu’s path to Aso Rock.
Atiku’s weakness remains glaring: he has neither invested in people nor built structures. A political nomad at heart, he has no crop of protégés who can swear by him. His restlessness — hopping from one party to another — has made it difficult to birth genuine loyalty. Even the likes of Kwankwaso and Zulum stand taller today among the northern political elite.
However, as long as Nigeria’s electorate remains intentionally impoverished, the currency of election-day handouts will continue to purchase loyalty — albeit temporarily. Poverty remains the most potent voter mobiliser in our polity.
One wonders if the recent flurry of political visits to Kaduna — with Atiku among them — signals a growing acknowledgment of who still holds the North’s heart. Is the kingmaker role being courted again?
Buhari has been vilified, even by members of his own party, who accuse him of presiding over Nigeria’s worst economic decline. The numbers are unforgiving: Nigeria’s GDP shrank from nearly $600 billion in 2014 (pre-Buhari) to around $360 billion by 2023.
Critics are right — Buhari did not deliver on his economic promises. The naira weakened disastrously, and rather than creating jobs, his administration presided over record job losses. His heavy use of “ways and means” borrowing left a debt burden that future generations will carry.
Yet, despite his monumental failures, Buhari’s mystique in the north remains untouched. He has publicly declined invitations to support any political coalition, maintaining a surface-level loyalty to Tinubu. His careful aloofness signals a quiet acknowledgment of the old alliance — but it is his personal bond with the North that still speaks the loudest.
Karl Marx famously said that “history repeats itself, first as tragedy, second as farce.”
In Buhari’s case, however, history appears stubbornly stuck in its first act. Despite criticisms, economic hardship, and unmet expectations, northern Nigeria’s affection for Buhari remains remarkably undiluted. As 2027 approaches, it is not a farcical imitation of past glories that inspires the region, but a genuine, almost nostalgic yearning for the man they still see as their champion. In a political landscape quick to discard old heroes, Buhari’s bond with the north defies Marx’s cynical progression — refusing to slip into farce.
As 2027 draws nearer, Buhari’s posture — whether active or silent — will matter. His perceived leanings could shape alliances, tilt balances, and ultimately decide who emerges victorious. Despite Tinubu’s tireless efforts to consolidate the south, he needs no reminder that no politician becomes President of Nigeria by losing the North by a wide margin.
And that is exactly where Buhari steps back into the centre of the story.
Who is visiting Buhari next? Goodluck Jonathan? Or PO himself?
At this point, Nigerian politicians have lost their ability to surprise me.