By Aremu Haroon Abiodun
Let me begin with clarity and sincerity. I write this not as a partisan actor, not as a loyalist of any political party, and certainly not as a hired megaphone for any candidate. I write from the standpoint of an analyst, a student of democratic behaviour, and a public relations strategist who understands that politics is not only about power; it is also about perception, timing, trust, and structure.
This piece is not designed to insult President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, attack the ruling APC, mock the opposition, or discredit any politician. Rather, it is an honest attempt to interrogate one of the most defining questions of Nigeria’s approaching democratic race: Is the new coalition a movement of salvation or merely a market of ambition?
In every democracy, coalitions can either rescue nations or ruin trust. In Africa, where democracy is still battling poverty, elite capture, and personality politics, the answer matters deeply. Across the continent, from Kenya to South Africa, Senegal to Zimbabwe, fragmented opposition groups often unite to challenge incumbents. Sometimes they succeed; sometimes they collapse under the weight of ego and suspicion.
Coalitions are usually built on five promises: to rescue the nation, restore democracy, defeat bad governance, unite the opposition vote, and provide a better alternative. But behind these promises often lie hidden motives: personal ambition, ticket negotiation, political survival, revenge against former allies, and access to state power. This is why many coalitions look holy in public but bleed distrust in private.
Nigeria may now be entering that exact season. The African Democratic Congress (ADC), once a relatively minor platform, is suddenly being discussed as a possible shelter for heavyweight politicians dissatisfied with their former homes. But before Nigerians clap, they must ask a dangerous question: Do the coalition members even trust themselves?
Parties are not built by logos; they are built by loyalty, and loyalty cannot be photocopied overnight.
Nigeria’s politics has become a railway station where leaders keep changing platforms while asking voters to stay loyal.
President Bola Ahmed Tinubu did not emerge by accident. His journey moved through the AD, AC, ACN, and finally the APC. He mastered a core truth that many others underestimated: structure beats noise.
While others chased headlines, Tinubu built networks, state influence, and grassroots machinery. Whether loved or criticised, he represents a masterclass in long-term political engineering.
Atiku’s route has been equally dramatic, moving from the PDP to the APC, back to the PDP, and now toward discussions with ADC. No politician in modern Nigeria has contested the presidency with as much persistence.
Supporters call it resilience; critics call it endless ambition. But as time moves on, the ADC coalition may represent strategic urgency rather than just ideology, a final gamble in a house where the inheritance is uncertain.
Peter Obi’s path from APGA to the PDP, the Labour Party, and now ADC tells the story of a reformer searching for a machine. Obi proved in 2023 that popularity can shake systems, but popularity without nationwide structure has limits.
If Obi brings credibility and a coalition brings machinery, the equation is powerful. However, can a reformist brand coexist with old political warlords? Movements are powered by hope, but coalitions are powered by compromise.
Moving from the PDP to the APC, the NNPP, and now the ADC, Kwankwaso commands a loyal bloc in the North. He has what every coalition needs—a dedicated voter base—but he also has what coalitions fear: independent ambition. The success of any merger will depend on whether arithmetic can overcome ego.
The urgency for a coalition is often driven by the stark reality of election data. In Nigeria’s 2023 presidential election, the opposition’s fragmentation was clear. President Bola Ahmed Tinubu won with 8,794,726 votes (36.6%), while the combined votes of the three main opposition candidates, Atiku Abubakar (6,984,520), Peter Obi (6,101,533), and Rabiu Kwankwaso (1,496,687), totalled 14,582,740.
Mathematically, the opposition held over 60% of the total vote, but their inability to unite resulted in a win for the incumbent’s structure. This “voter math” is the primary engine behind the current migration toward the ADC; politicians realise that without a unified front, sentiment rarely defeats a settled structure.
Having that in mind, can Atiku trust Obi? Can Obi trust establishment figures? Can Kwankwaso trust a ticket arrangement? Coalitions often fail not because they lack votes, but because they lack trust.
Sooner or later, the “Ticket War” arrives. If Atiku wants one last shot, Obi believes his momentum was stolen, and Kwankwaso believes northern arithmetic favours him, the smiles will disappear. A coalition before a primary is romance; a coalition after a primary is war.
Furthermore, many underestimate the “Tinubu Factor.” Hatred of an incumbent is not a development plan. Tinubu remains a formidable strategist because he controls incumbency power and understands coalition management better than many of his rivals. To defeat a strategist, anger is insufficient, but superior organisation could be the way out.
From a strategic communication perspective, the narratives are already forming. APC’s narrative centres on stability, continuity, and ongoing reforms. ADC represents a force for “Rescue Nigeria,” unites the opposition, and restores hope.
Both parties face a risk. The ADC risks being seen as a shelter for serial defectors, while the APC risks seeming disconnected from economic pain.
Lastline
Nigeria does not merely need a coalition of politicians; it needs a coalition of ideas, competence, and national healing. If the ADC becomes a real reform movement, it can change history. If it becomes only a marketplace of ambition, it will prove that parties change names faster than systems change realities.
The real contest of 2027 may not be APC vs. ADC. It will be structure vs sentiment, trust vs suspicion, and nationhood vs ambition. On that day, Nigerians, not politicians, will deliver the final verdict on who rules in the next four years.
Haroon Aremu is a public relations strategist and wrote in via exponentumera@gmail.com.