By Musa Shehu
The rising speculation that President Bola Ahmed Tinubu may replace Vice President Kashim Shettima in the 2027 elections is not just a distraction—it is a dangerous political gamble that could cost the All Progressives Congress (APC) everything it has built since 2015.
While official voices try to downplay the narrative, recent events—especially within the party’s North-East wing—indicate that the matter is no longer mere rumour. What happened in Gombe, the calculated omissions in party endorsements, and the president’s deafening silence all point to a coordinated, if cautious, effort to test the waters of a political switch. But history, logic, and the current political climate all speak clearly against such a move.
Also, there has been another disturbingly growing speculation that President Tinubu may consider replacing Vice President Kashim Shettima with Dr. Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso. While this idea may appear strategic on the surface, it would be a serious miscalculation.
Kwankwaso is not as capable or disciplined as Shettima. He lacks the patience, composure, and loyalty that Shettima has consistently demonstrated both during the 2023 campaign and throughout his time as vice president. Unlike Shettima, who has proven to be a team player and a stabilizing figure in the presidency, Kwankwaso is widely seen as a local champion whose political relevance rarely extends beyond Kano.
Again, Kwankwaso is also known for his domineering style and confrontational approach. He often moves with a crowd of blindly loyal supporters who tend to stir division rather than build consensus. Tinubu needs a dependable and steady partner, not a disruptive and self-centered figure who could complicate governance. Replacing Shettima with Kwankwaso would be inviting internal crisis, not national progress.
Moreover, Shettima is not just a placeholder or ceremonial figure in the Tinubu presidency. He was a key player in Tinubu’s emergence, standing firmly with him when many in the North, especially the political elite, were either undecided or opposed to Tinubu’s ambition.
His nomination as vice president was not just strategic—it was loyal, bold, and calculated to balance the controversial Muslim-Muslim ticket in a way that maintained the party’s regional grip while managing national tension. Attempting to discard him now undermines that delicate balance and sends a dangerous message to APC loyalists and the broader Northern constituency: loyalty is negotiable, and regional representation can be sacrificed at will.
Recent developments in the APC suggest that some within the party see Shettima as expendable. His name was glaringly omitted during key moments in the party’s North-East stakeholders’ meeting in Gombe. The violent reactions from party delegates who stormed the stage, chanting Shettima’s name and attacking speakers, are not random acts of protest. However, they reflect genuine political frustration and a deep sense of betrayal.
The North-East, especially Borno—Shettima’s home state—has stood firmly behind the APC even in difficult times. Discarding its most prominent representative in the federal government would not only be unwise, but also politically suicidal.
Moreover, dropping a sitting vice president in a bid for second term is historically rare and politically dangerous. Nigeria’s democratic experience, shaky as it is, has shown that stability in leadership tickets often yields better results.
Obasanjo retained Atiku in 2003 despite personal and political differences. Jonathan ran with Sambo in both 2011 and 2015. Buhari did not drop Osinbajo in 2019. In each of these cases, keeping the vice president on the ticket was a signal of continuity, unity, and loyalty to political partnerships. So why does Tinubu attempt to break from this tradition? This, according to many, will not be seen as strategic—it will be interpreted as cold, calculated betrayal.
Moreover, there is also no credible reason that has been given—or can be given—for dropping Shettima. He has not been involved in any scandal. He has not rebelled against the president or the party. He continues to represent the administration with measured tone, loyalty, and a calm that contrasts with the chaos in some parts of the country.
The idea that he lacks “visibility” is hollow. Shettima has always been a backroom operator, more interested in delivering results than seeking applause. That was his style as governor of Borno, and it remains his approach as vice president.
Furthermore, the APC risks opening old wounds and repeating past political mistakes if it proceeds with this plan. In 2015, the PDP lost its northern base largely due to internal exclusion and the perception that it had betrayed zoning arrangements. That single miscalculation allowed a coalition to form around Buhari, ultimately bringing the APC to power. Tinubu himself benefitted from that revolt. For him to now allow—or lead—a similar alienation of a key northern figure would be politically disastrous.
What is unfolding now mirrors the political climate of 1983, when President Shehu Shagari removed his vice president, Alex Ekwueme, under pressure from internal party factions. That decision split the party, weakened Shagari’s legitimacy, and accelerated the military coup that followed. The cost of betraying one’s political base in a fragile democracy like Nigeria’s is always steep. APC leaders, especially those urging a replacement, would do well to revisit that history.
Perhaps the most unsettling part of this entire episode is President Tinubu’s silence. Unlike his predecessors, who openly reaffirmed their vice presidents ahead of their second-term bids, Tinubu has allowed ambiguity to take root. The clarification by his media aide, Bayo Onanuga, that the president will only choose his running mate after accepting the party nomination is technically correct—but politically tone-deaf. The impression it leaves is that Shettima’s position is hanging by a thread. That kind of uncertainty does not build party confidence; it fractures it.
In truth, the campaign to replace Shettima is less about religion or regional balance and more about ambition—by those who believe they deserve the VP slot, and by those who think they can engineer a political realignment in their favour. But these short-term calculations ignore the long-term damage they could cause. The North-East has already shown signs of agitation, and the idea of switching loyalty to the PDP or other parties is no longer hypothetical. If APC loses that bloc, no amount of last-minute reconciliation will save it in 2027.
President Tinubu still has time to shut this rumour down and make it clear that the 2023 ticket remains the 2027 ticket. Anything less will continue to create chaos within the party and hand the opposition a ready-made campaign message. Nigerians are watching.
The North-East is watching. The APC base is watching.
Musa Shehu wrote in from Kano State, Nigeria.
