Connect with us

Opinion

The Godfather Who Mistook Democracy for Personal Ownership

Published

3 weeks ago

on

Kano Map

 

Murtala Muhammad Rijiyar Zaki

Democracy is, at its most essential, an act of trust. Citizens go to the polls, cast their votes, and place in the hands of an elected individual the authority to govern on their behalf. That authority is borrowed, not given. It is conditional, not absolute. It belongs, in the final and irreducible sense, to the people who granted it, and it must be exercised in their interest, not in the interest of whoever helped engineer its acquisition. This elementary principle, the very foundation upon which every credible democracy in the world is constructed, is the principle that Senator Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso has spent the better part of three decades systematically, deliberately, and quite unapologetically violating. His violation of it is not accidental. It is not the product of ignorance or misunderstanding. It is the logical expression of a political philosophy that has always placed personal ownership above democratic accountability, and godfather authority above the sovereign will of the people.
To understand the full weight of this charge, one must first understand what godfatherism actually means in the Nigerian political context, and why it is not merely an inconvenient feature of our democracy but a fundamental corruption of it. A political godfather, in the Nigerian tradition, is a figure who uses his resources, his organization, and his influence to install candidates in elective office, with the explicit or implicit understanding that those candidates, once elected, will govern not primarily in the interest of the electorate but in the interest of the godfather. The elected official becomes, in this arrangement, less a representative of the people and more a proxy for the man who put him there. The voters, in this model, are not principals whose mandate the elected official is obligated to honor. They are a mechanism, a crowd to be mobilized and demobilized at the godfather’s discretion, a necessary inconvenience in the process of acquiring and exercising power.
This is the model that has been perfected, refined, and deployed with extraordinary effectiveness across the entire arc of his political career. He did not invent godfatherism in Nigerian politics, and it would be unfair to suggest otherwise. But he has practiced it at a scale, with a sophistication, and with a degree of institutional embedding that sets him apart from the ordinary political patron. Kwankwasiyya is not simply a network of political supporters. It is a parallel governance structure, a shadow administration that has, for years, operated alongside whatever formal government happened to be in power in Kano, always with the understanding that the real decisions, the real appointments, the real directions of policy would be filtered through one man’s judgment and one man’s calculations.
The most instructive way to appreciate the depth of this ownership model is to examine what happened each time a political associate of Kwankwaso dared to exercise the kind of independent judgment that democracy not only permits but actively demands. The case of Governor Abdullahi Ganduje is the first and perhaps most telling exhibit. Ganduje was Kwankwaso’s deputy governor, his chosen running mate, and eventually his personally endorsed successor. He was, by every public indication, a Kwankwasiyya man to the core. When he won the governorship and proceeded to govern Kano as an elected official accountable to Kano’s people rather than as a Kwankwasiyya proxy accountable to its founder, the consequences were swift, bitter, and enormously damaging to Kano’s political stability. war enraged. The two men, former partners and political brothers, became bitter enemies whose conflict consumed years of Kano’s political energy, distorted the state’s governance, and created divisions whose effects are still visible in the state’s political landscape today.
Now, with a precision that suggests not merely repetition but pathology, the same drama is performing itself with Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf. Abba was Kwankwaso’s political son in the most complete sense of that phrase. He rose through the Kwankwasiyya structure, received the movement’s full organizational support in the 2023 governorship election, and arrived in office as the standard bearer of a movement that had just achieved its most significant electoral victory in years. By the Kwankwasiyya ownership model, Abba was supposed to govern as an instrument of the movement’s will, making appointments that the movement approved, pursuing policies that the movement sanctioned, and maintaining, above all, the fiction that the man in Government House in Kano was the governor while the man who really governed Kano lived elsewhere and wore a red cap.
Abba refused. And in refusing, he did something that deserves to be named clearly and celebrated without reservation: he honored the democratic mandate that the people of Kano had given him. The people of Kano did not vote for Kwankwasiyya’s agenda on the ballot paper they cast in 2023. They voted for Abba Kabir Yusuf. They did not elect a movement to govern them. They elected a man. And that man, exercising the authority that democratic election confers, made decisions that his judgment and his reading of Kano’s interests demanded, including the strategically essential decision to align his government with the federal administration in order to ensure that Kano’s development was not held hostage to one man’s unresolved political grievances.
Kwankwaso’s response to this exercise of democratic independence has been to cry betrayal, to mobilize his movement’s considerable media machinery against the government, and to position himself as a martyr of political ingratitude. But let us be precise about what he is actually saying when he uses the language of betrayal in this context. He is saying that an elected governor who makes decisions without his approval has broken faith with him. He is saying that the democratic mandate of millions of Kano voters is subordinate to his personal expectations. He is saying, with a candor that his language barely conceals, that he considers the governorship of Kano to be, in some meaningful sense, his property, and that its occupant’s primary obligation is not to the electorate but to the man who arranged for his installation. This is not a democratic position. It is the position of a feudal lord who has temporarily misplaced his deed of ownership and wants it returned.
The scholarship program, so frequently invoked as the centerpiece of Kwankwaso’s benevolence, must also be examined in this context of ownership and obligation. It is a program of genuine educational impact, and that impact must be acknowledged. But it was also, by the testimony of its own structure and its own cultural expectations, a mechanism for creating politically indebted citizens. Young men who received Kwankwaso’s scholarships understood, without being told explicitly, that their education came with a political price tag attached. They were expected to be Kwankwasiyya soldiers, to wear the red cap, to attend the rallies, to defend the movement on social media, and to vote, organize, and mobilize as the movement directed. The scholarship was real. The debt it created was equally real. And a democracy in which citizens are politically indebted to a patron for their education is not a functioning democracy. It is a patronage system wearing democracy’s clothing.
There is a further dimension to this ownership model that deserves careful attention, and that is its impact on the quality of governance that Kano has received across the years of Kwankwasiyya’s dominance. When a governor knows that his political survival depends not on satisfying his electorate but on satisfying his godfather, his incentives are fundamentally distorted. He makes appointments that the godfather approves rather than appointments that competence recommends. He pursues policies that maintain the movement’s patronage networks rather than policies that address the state’s developmental needs. He manages information to protect the movement’s image rather than managing resources to improve the people’s lives. The distortion is systematic, and its costs, while difficult to quantify in any single instance, accumulate across years of governance into a development deficit of enormous proportions. Kano’s persistent structural challenges, its unemployment crisis, its struggling industrial base, its dependence on federal allocations, these are not merely the products of bad luck or difficult circumstances. They are, in significant part, the products of a governance model that has been answerable to the wrong principal for far too long.
It is worth pausing here to consider what genuine political mentorship, as opposed to godfatherism, actually looks like. A true political mentor invests in the development of younger leaders because he believes that stronger leaders produce better governance for the people he loves. He gives his mentees the tools, the networks, and the confidence to govern independently and excellently. He celebrates their independence as evidence that his investment has matured. He measures his own legacy not by how many proxies he controls but by how many excellent leaders he has released into public service. By every one of these measures, Kwankwaso’s relationship with his political sons fails the test comprehensively. He has not produced independent leaders. He has produced dependents, and when they outgrow their dependence, he has declared war on them. The pattern is too consistent, too repetitive, and too damaging to be explained as personal disappointment. It is the structural consequence of a political philosophy that was always about ownership rather than mentorship.
The people of Kano have a right, a democratic and a moral right, to a government that is accountable to them and only to them. They have a right to a governor whose first, last, and only political obligation is to the mandate they granted him at the ballot box. They have a right to a political culture in which their votes are the ultimate source of political authority, not a preliminary ceremony that a godfather subsequently ratifies or overrides according to his own judgment. Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf’s refusal to govern as Kwankwaso’s proxy is not a betrayal of democracy. It is democracy’s vindication. It is the system working precisely as its architects intended, returning authority to the people by insisting that their elected representative answers to them and not to the man who helped elect him.
Kwankwaso has spent decades building a movement and decades mistaking that movement for a mandate. He has confused organizational power with democratic legitimacy, confusing the ability to mobilize crowds with the right to govern through proxies, confusing the gratitude of scholarship beneficiaries with the sovereign consent of an electorate. These are not small confusions. They are the fundamental errors of a man who has been at the center of Nigerian democracy long enough to know better, and who has chosen, repeatedly and consequentially, not to.
Nigeria’s democracy is young, imperfect, and perpetually under pressure from precisely the forces that Kwankwaso represents: the forces that would reduce elections to expensive ceremonies legitimizing predetermined outcomes, that would convert public office into private property, and that would transform the people’s sovereign authority into a godfather’s personal asset. Every time a governor like Abba Kabir Yusuf insists on governing for his people rather than for his patron, he pushes back against those forces. Every time Kwankwaso responds to that insistence with outrage and accusations of betrayal, he reveals, with an honesty that his political communications never intend, exactly what he believed he owned and exactly why he was always wrong to believe it.
Kano does not belong to Kwankwaso. It never did. And the sooner his political calculations are made to reckon with that elementary democratic truth, the sooner the state can complete the transition from a political culture of patronage and ownership to one of accountability and genuine service. That transition is already underway. Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf, by the simple act of governing for the people who elected him, has done more to advance it than any political speech or manifesto could have achieved. That is not betrayal. That is, at long last, democracy beginning to mean what it was always supposed to mean in Kano.

Advert

Related Topics:

Opinion

Amupitan and the Credibility of the 2027 Elections-Salihu Tanko Yakasai

Published

1 week ago

on

April 12, 2026

By

 

By Salihu Tanko Yakasai.

In any election, the most important stakeholder is the electoral umpire. Whoever is chosen to lead the electoral body carries a heavy burden, particularly in how key players and observers perceive the independence of that umpire, whether he will be fair and just or take sides with those who appointed him.

Typically, the person appointed to head the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) is expected to ensure a level playing field for all candidates, irrespective of whether they belong to the ruling party or the opposition. Over the years in Nigeria, however, some INEC chairmen have been found wanting in the discharge of their duties.

Maurice Iwu is widely regarded as one of Nigeria’s most controversial INEC chairmen, largely because the 2007 elections under his leadership were heavily criticized for irregularities and lack of credibility. Even Umaru Musa Yar’Adua, who won that election, admitted the process was flawed. While some argue he operated within a weak system, his tenure is still often seen as a low point for electoral integrity in Nigeria.

If you’re looking at credibility, transparency, and public trust, his tenure is often seen as a low point for Nigeria’s electoral process.

But from all indications, the current INEC chairman, Joash Amupitan, seems to be on the verge of becoming even worse than Maurice Iwu, as his tenure has been marked by one controversy after another since his appointment.

1- Religious bias allegation

The current INEC chairman, Amupitan, has faced criticism over a past petition in which he reportedly raised concerns about what he described as “Christian genocide.” This has drawn objections from groups such as the Supreme Council for Islamic Affairs, who argue that such a position raises questions about his neutrality in a religiously diverse country and have called for his removal.

Advert

2- ADC leadership portal controversy

While citing a court order, the INEC chairman reportedly derecognized David Mark and Rauf Aregbesola as Chairman and Secretary of the African Democratic Congress, respectively. This removal from INEC’s official portal could undermine the party’s ability to field candidates. Critics see this as a move that may disadvantage opposition parties in favor of the ruling All Progressives Congress.

3- Voter revalidation exercise concerns

Another major issue was the proposed voter revalidation exercise introduced close to the election timeline, which sparked backlash. Many argued that attempting to revalidate tens of millions of voters within a short period could disenfranchise many Nigerians in the 2027 general elections. Following public pressure, the commission suspended the exercise.

4- Social media partisanship allegation

Questions have been raised about an alleged social media account linked to Amupitan, said to contain posts supportive of the APC and critical of opposition movements such as the “Obidient” movement. Although he denied ownership, some online claims suggest links to personal identifiers such as an email address and phone number, leaving the issue contested.

All these controversies are happening even before the elections. If Maurice Iwu is the yardstick for a poor election umpire, then by all accounts, Amupitan appears to be on track to surpass that record. If he can be perceived as this compromised before the elections, what should be expected on election day?

When the credibility of an election collapses, the consequences go far beyond the ballot box. Voter turnout drops as people begin to feel their votes no longer count, and the legitimacy of whoever emerges as winner is immediately questioned. This often fuels political tension, deepens divisions, and in some cases can trigger unrest. Ultimately, a flawed electoral process does not just produce disputed outcomes, it weakens public trust in democracy itself and makes governance far more difficult.

This is why all well-meaning Nigerians, as well as the international community, must lend their voices to calls for the removal of such a controversial INEC chairman. The credibility of the elections is already being questioned even before they are held. It is like a referee in a football match wearing the jersey of one of the teams, you do not need anyone to tell you that such a referee cannot be neutral.

As Kofi Annan once said, “Credible elections are the cornerstone of democracy.” When that credibility is in doubt, the very foundation of the democratic process is weakened. Nigeria cannot afford to gamble with that foundation in 2027.

Continue Reading

Opinion

The Final Betrayal Of A Red Neck?-Martin Yakwo

Published

1 week ago

on

April 10, 2026

By

 

By Martin Yakwo

The humid air of Benisheikh felt heavy yesterday, not with rain, but with the silence of a trap. Brigadier General Oseni Braimah stood in the center of the 29 Task Force Brigade’s perimeter, his thumb tracing the jagged edge of a radio that hadn’t caught a clear signal in three days.

He had surely sent five memos to Abuja in a month. He’d asked for the T-72 tanks promised in the quarterly budget and the thermal optics needed to see through the encroaching Sahel dust. After all the general in his youth was trained in the annals of red house aka octopus house..where being on point was a religion? Sharp thinking was necessary to survive and being resourceful was mandatory.

But alas, The replies from the High Command via the buffoons in the villa were always the same: “Resources are being deployed. Maintain your position.” But Braimah knew where the resources were. He had seen the photos of the new mansions in Lakeview, Abuja, owned by men who had never heard a shot fired in anger. He knew the “superior firepower” touted in the morning press releases was sitting in a shipping container in Lagos, held up by a kickback dispute between greedy politically inclined morons and the compromised analogue generals who have become their partners in crime and corruption.

“General,” his adjutant whispered, pointing toward the tree line. “The scouts didn’t return.” how could they have returned? They had already been betrayed by some rehabilitated sons and daughters of Satan with the blessing of the NSA and his clowns in control of the nations security apparatus a long time ago.

Braimah reached for his rifle. It was a decades-old weapon, the ubiquitous AK 47? its barrel worn smooth. He knew the political will to end this war didn’t exist; a forever war was too profitable for the men/agbayas in flowing agbadas, multi million naira watches and their paramilitary gang members in well starched khakis who the general answered to. If the insurgency died, the “security votes”—those unvetted billions—would vanish. After all, the dirty, stinky, drug addled vermin known as Boko Haram are the prodigal sons of some of the hierarchy as well as the politicians. These boys are cash in the bank as it is and so must be protected and supplied more than the military itself.

Then, the darkness erupted.
The terrorists didn’t come with swords; they came with brand-new technicals and night-vision goggles—gear better than anything Braimah’s men possessed. The General sprinted toward the front trench, shouting orders that were drowned out by the screams of boys holding jammed rifles.
He picked up a Light Machine Gun from a fallen soldier, but after three bursts, it seized.

The procurement officers had bought “refurbished” ammunition that was actually decades-old surplus. “Request air support!” Braimah roared over the thunder of RPGs.
“The jets are grounded in Maiduguri, sir!” the comms officer yelled back, tears streaking his dusty face. “They say there’s no fuel budget cleared for night Sorties!”

Advert

Braimah looked at the sky, vast and empty. No air support? No night time drones? It wasn’t the enemy that had defeated him. It was the ink on the diverted contracts and the shrugs in the air-conditioned boardrooms of the capital. He stood tall, a silhouette of defiance against the muzzle flashes. He was a lion led by sheep, a guardian sold for a percentage. As the perimeter collapsed, he didn’t retreat. He fired his sidearm until the slide locked back. By then the scene must have looked like a scorched earth with bodies strewn across each other, blood and dust mixing with bullets and shrapnel as the constant staccato of gunfire mixed with Islamic chants by the evil killers of his colleagues rent the air, getting closer, and closer by the mili second?

The last thing Oseni Braimah felt wasn’t the sting of the bullet, but the “cold weight of a betrayal that started a thousand miles away from the battlefield in an air conditioned suite in the villa and freezing office in the MOD.” The desire to gaze upon the faces of his beautiful wife and kids once more must have driven him to jump into the last remaining MRAP vehicle in order to save himself and the wounded left alive to try to salvage their dire situation and protect us the citizens who slept underneath the covers while simultaneously living in order to fight another day?

But alas….it wasn’t meant to be…”oga the MRAP has no fuel and the engine is faulty?” What manner of government allows a red neck to be in charge of a command with such a logistical nightmare? The Nigerian government of course. Better to turn our brightest and bravest into sitting ducks in borno for the bandits as long as the allowances can be exchanged in zone 4 for dollars but not sense!

The next morning, the DHQ would release a statement praising his “heroism” and “the military’s successful repelling of the attack.” The mansions in Abuja would remain quiet, their walls thick enough to drown out the sound of the desert wind while also buck passing in order to avoid any form of official scrutiny. Maybe tomorrow morning the mong from bourdillion would hurriedly fly into an airfield in Maiduguri for 10 minutes to extol the virtues of my red house brother and his fallen comrades in arms as he did in jos? He would make his usual regurgitated speech about “never again or we will crush these bandits?” He may also demand that they bring omos twin brother and his grieving wife and kids for a photo op? To show that he cares? Typical.

Mr President , your high command and your useless Boko Haram trainee ministers and the safari suit wearing boy scout from kaduna . You have all sacrificed an innocent man’s life and that of his brave platoon with your incompetence, blinding stupidity and lack of political will to face this menace head on. Nigerians are now on par with somalians as regards to insecurity and it is all happening under your bleary-eyed watch.

The betrayal of all the remaining red necks and their subordinates rests on your shoulders. May all of you responsible for the current state of this nations capitulation choke on your wealth and die off in penury after being haunted by the visions of all those who have been sent to the upper room by your inaction greed and lack of foresight.

As for “Le deux, tallest, Omo bee and the general?”…..I wish you a peaceful journey
I will see you when it’s my turn . Rest in peace……Salute.

[“The final betrayal of a red neck” is a SEMI BIOGRAPHICAL EPITAPH written by me based on the events of the last 24 hours of oseni braimahs life, as a dedication to his bravery and that of his men, the current inefficiency affecting our nations military offensive against terrorists in nigeria, the debilitating federal corruption as well as our 32 year association via our journey through the hallowed halls of CSSKD”]

© God of words productions. 2026

Continue Reading

Opinion

Shekarau In APC, Morale Booster For Governor Abba

Published

2 weeks ago

on

April 8, 2026

By

 

By Abba Anwar

It is no longer a news or something strange for Kano people, for one to comfortably advance a stance that, among all the former Governors of Kano, who are still alive, including Military Administrators during Military regime, Malam Ibrahim Shekarau, Sardaunan Kano and a one time Distinguished Senator of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, is the most focused, most honest, most humane, most humble and most lenient, with high sense of spiritual touch.

Just like the former Governor Rabi’u Musa Kwankwaso, whose political structure cuts across all the 44 local government areas in the state, Malam Shekarau has that political spread for sure. Shekarau’s structure, under what is called Shurah Council /Committee, is more genuine and democratic, than that of Kwankwaso.

For the simple reason that, nowhere in his political life, before, during and after his days in office, it was reported that he takes decisions without consultation. The cardinal essence of the true meaning of Shurah. Consultation before action. The concept of Shurah became more prominent in his post administration era.

Even the Shurah Council /Committee, is under the leadership of another respected and down – to-earth personality, Dr Umar Mustapha, popularly known and called Mai Mansaleta (Mentholatum). An ocean difference between Kwankwaso’s Kwankwasiyya and Shekarau’s Shurah. Under Shurah, immediately after Shekarau, there is the Chairman of the body of decision makers, Shurah. Unlike in Kwankwasiyya where you have Kwankwaso and only him, as the alpha and omega. Below him in the chain of decision making and command? Nobody! Absolute totalitarianism!

With the cross over of Shekarau to the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC), the chances and influence of Kano state, Abba Kabir Yusuf, against 2027 election, are becoming more visible, predictable and waxing stronger. Even the consolidation of the party and governance are becoming increasingly focused. Shekarau is respected by almost all Kano elders and responsible individuals.

Advert

One good thing about Shekarau’s political empire, is, almost all those who are following his political direction, have it at the back of their mind that, they are duty bound, to be loyal, as a symbol of duty of followership. No blind loyalty, no deceit and no double-speak. He, as an overall leader of the dynasty, if I can use the term, consults, before any decision is reached.

Shekarau in APC, means governor Yusuf’s decisive political spread across all the 44 local governments. I also hope that, Shekarau’s people will not be sidelined in the party activities and governance. As it was the case during the immediate past governor Dr Abdullahi Umar Ganduje, CON.

If and only if governor Yusuf wants to display practical relationship with Shekarau, I suggest, he should incorporate Shekarau’s loyalists in governance, more than any other section or camp of the traditional APC. Why? Because, Shekarau, as it appears now, has no single individual in the party leadership. Right form the ward to local government up to state. Congresses across wards, local governments and state took place few weeks back. Before Shekarau joins the party. So he should be compensated, anyway.

It is governor Yusuf, Malam Shekarau, Baba Ganduje and His Excellency, Deputy Senate President, Distinguished Senator Barau I Jibrin, CFR, who are now on the table. A round table, if you wish. Is not for roundtable discussion. But for redesign, refocus, rejig, realignment and rehearsal of current political reality in Kano, against 2027.

Without fear of contradiction and exaggeration, Shekarau is still one of the very few politicians in the country, whom, when you look at their faces, you see faith, seriousness, straightforwardness, focus, commitment and humility. So as a matter of fact, APC under the governor, in Kano, is lucky to woo Sardaunan Kano, ahead of such stiffer elections, come 2027. Which is just some miles away.

I suggest that, Shekarau people, as he joins APC, should be involved in governance from local governments to state level. Failure to do that, may as well mean, APC looks at him (Shekarau), alone, not alongside his people. And this could mean a bad political approach. Let Shekarau and his people know that, their relevance and influence are spotted and appreciated, by the present state government. Unlike what was obtained in the past. When their hardwork, commitment and loyalty were thrown to the dogs.

As important as Shekarau is, in normalizing and consolidating the strength of APC, not only in Kano, it is expected that, his people would not be neglected after joining the party. Yes, Shekarau still enjoys grassroot supporters, real and genuine, for that matter. The ball, I believe, is in the court of both President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, GCFR, and governor Yusuf.

So governor Yusuf should facilitate the fixing of Shekarau people in some chosen federal government spaces. Consolidation of power, is rewarding, when realities on ground are not deliberately neglected.

Shekarau’s influence cuts across many states, especially, in the North. More importantly, people that are religious, in the true sense of the word religion, gentlemen and other community leaders across our traditional settings. Humility and approachable posture, are two major attitudes that endear him to many.

Without being economical with the truth, I can say, governor Yusuf finds a new political father in Shekarau. Take it or leave it.

Anwar writes from Kano
Wednesday, 8th April, 2026

Continue Reading

Trending