The Nigerian political stage has always been a theatre of drama, betrayal, survival, and reinvention, but rarely has it been as charged as it is today with the bold assertion by Nasir El-Rufai that President Bola Ahmed Tinubu will be politically annihilated in 2027, consigned to a humiliating third place in a runoff election. This proclamation, sensational in its delivery and designed for maximum effect, reads less like prophecy and more like a factional war cry in a ruling party where ambition and rivalry are the lifeblood of survival. To treat El-Rufai’s statement as a settled forecast is to misunderstand both Tinubu’s political DNA and the structural mechanics of Nigerian elections. History and facts compel us to see his prediction as a paperweight speech — an ornamental provocation — rather than a substantive political reality.
Bola Tinubu did not rise from the crucible of Lagos politics, carve out the All Progressives Congress from disparate regional factions, dethrone a sitting president in 2015, and ascend to Aso Rock in 2023, only to be dismissed by a passing declaration. His record is one of deliberate coalition-building, of institutionalizing patronage networks, and of mastering the art of political engineering in a federation where raw numbers rarely decide outcomes on their own. Unlike the fleeting outbursts of disgruntled power brokers, Tinubu’s political strategy is rooted in an understanding of Nigeria’s electoral terrain: where patronage lubricates loyalty, where incumbency provides a formidable arsenal of instruments, and where timing, money, and state control intersect to dissemble opposition coalitions before they can consolidate.
El-Rufai’s Jonathan comparison collapses under scrutiny. Goodluck Jonathan lost in 2015 not because incumbency failed as a structural advantage, but because the opposition united with unprecedented cohesion, elite defections tilted the balance, and the electorate found a credible alternative in Muhammadu Buhari. Tinubu is not facing a united front but a fractured opposition still reeling from the divided spoils of 2023. Unless the opposition births an improbable grand coalition that bridges ethno-regional divides, overcomes elite egos, and mobilizes disciplined grassroots structures, El-Rufai’s arithmetic is simply political gossip dressed as foresight.
Tinubu’s instruments of survival remain vast. He controls the ruling party machinery, shaping its primaries and gatekeeping candidacies. He wields the fiscal levers of state, timing projects and contracts to buy loyalty and neutralize dissent. He has the coercive and regulatory apparatus of government, capable of setting the terms of contestation and litigating rivals out of contention. He commands narrative machinery that can transform hardship into reformist inevitability, while painting opponents as reckless opportunists. These are not hypotheticals but tested methods that incumbents from Obasanjo to Buhari deployed with varying degrees of success.
The sensationalism of El-Rufai’s prophecy must therefore be read for what it is: a novelty speech, an elite bargaining chip meant to jolt the political space and signal discontent within APC’s inner chambers. But to mistake it for a grounded forecast is to underestimate the resilience of a man whose entire career has been defined by political survival against the odds. Tinubu will not walk into 2027 unarmed; he will walk with the incumbency arsenal, with patronage networks recalibrated, and with a ruthless instinct to dismantle any coalition that dares to threaten his grip.
The truth is that Nigerian elections are never won in soundbites; they are won in the shadows of elite deals, the corridors of fiscal allocation, the choreography of security deployments, and the disciplined management of regional coalitions. Until the opposition proves it can master those instruments as effectively as Tinubu, El-Rufai’s prediction will remain exactly what it is: political theatre masquerading as prophecy.
By Jide Adesina | 1stafrika.com
