By Salisu Uba Kofarwambai
The annulment of the June 12, 1993, presidential election by General Ibrahim Babangida stands as one of the most consequential events in Nigeria’s political history. What began as a tragedy for democracy soon became a powerful weapon of political repositioning for the Yoruba elite, who skillfully leveraged national sympathy to strengthen their grip on Nigeria’s democratic evolution.
This singular incident opened the doors for the Yoruba to produce three heads of state—an achievement that might never have occurred under normal political circumstances. Ironically, this is the same political milestone that the late Chief Obafemi Awolowo, the revered father of Yoruba nationalism, spent his entire life trying to attain but could not.
Sadly, many who ultimately benefited from the June 12 crisis were not even supporters of Chief M.K.O. Abiola during the election. Instead, they emerged later as political opportunists—vultures who hijacked the struggle, turned it into a sectional movement, and weaponized it for political dominance.
It is important to recall that the North overwhelmingly voted for Abiola over its own son, Alhaji Bashir Tofa. But following the annulment, the Yoruba intelligentsia cleverly shifted the blame from the military, a national institution, to the North, creating a narrative that painted the region as the villain of democracy. This deflection became a foundation for the Yoruba to assert political superiority, while the North unknowingly fell for the narrative.
In the aftermath, Chief Ernest Shonekan—a Yoruba technocrat—was installed as head of the Interim National Government. Later, in 1999, the North once again conceded power to the South-West, with Chief Olusegun Obasanjo returning as a civilian president. However, Obasanjo’s tenure is remembered by many in the North for economic policies that led to the decline of the region’s industrial capacity. Many northerners believe these policies were deliberate, politically motivated, and economically harmful to the North.
Today, with President Bola Ahmed Tinubu at the helm, the North’s frustration appears to be deepening. Recently, a ₦16 trillion infrastructure project was allocated to the South, while liberal economic policies continue to disproportionately impact northern states, compounding existing inequalities.
This growing sentiment of marginalization was reinforced by President Tinubu’s Democracy Day national address. During the broadcast, a list of recipients of national awards was unveiled to honour those who fought for democracy. Yet, the list revealed a clear bias. While individuals like Professor Wole Soyinka—who went into exile during the military era—were honoured, many who stood their ground and bore the brunt of military repression were ignored.
Where are the names of Abubakar Rimi, Abdulkarim Dayyabu, Sule Lamido, Gani Fawehinmi, and M.D. Yusuf—figures who paid a heavy price for resisting military rule? Most of them were imprisoned under General Abacha and only released after his death. Yet, these sacrifices appear forgotten, excluded from a national recognition that should be inclusive.
Even the institutionalization of June 12 as Nigeria’s Democracy Day under the Buhari administration has continued to project the day as a Yoruba affair—further entrenching the idea that the Yoruba were the sole victims of the annulled election. This skewed narrative continues to sideline other critical voices and regions, especially the North, which was deeply invested in the democratic struggle of the 1990s.
As we mark June 12, the North must soberly reflect on how much has been lost—from the annulment of 1993 to the current political dispensation. The region must also begin to ask tough questions about its place in the national project and how to reclaim a fair share in Nigeria’s democratic future.
June 12 was a national tragedy and should be a national symbol of resilience—not a sectional emblem of victimhood. Until this is fully acknowledged, the spirit of June 12 remains only partially honoured.
