Northern politicians, the brewing storm among the masses: Lessons of history

In the grand theatre of Nigerian politics, history has often served as both compass and caution. The North, long regarded as a political powerhouse, now finds itself at a perilous crossroads under the administration of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu. His presidency, rather than embodying the spirit of national unity, has unveiled a pattern of regional […]

Northern politicians, the brewing storm among the masses: Lessons of history

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In the grand theatre of Nigerian politics, history has often served as both compass and caution. The North, long regarded as a political powerhouse, now finds itself at a perilous crossroads under the administration of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu. His presidency, rather than embodying the spirit of national unity, has unveiled a pattern of regional favouritism, strategic consolidation of power, and the marginalisation of the very political bloc that has traditionally shaped the centre.

A silent storm is brewing in the hearts of the northern masses—one of discontent, betrayal and awakening. Their representatives at the federal level appear subdued, directionless and tragically complacent. But history has shown, time and again, that such moments of neglect and passive leadership can birth lasting consequences. As the Yoruba proverb goes, “The child that is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth”.

President Tinubu’s government has been marked by a clear tilt toward the South West. From key economic projects to infrastructural expansions, the lion’s share of federal attention is being poured into the region of his origin. Lagos-Calabar coastal highways, deep-sea ports, special economic zones, irrigation schemes, and even the prioritisation of Lagos as Nigeria’s economic nerve centre tell a tale of strategic regional entrenchment.

Worse still, appointments into sensitive and strategic positions—finance, internal security, infrastructure, economic planning—are disproportionately drawn from the South West. The North, with its vast population and political loyalty, has been left with crumbs. This imbalance echoes the warnings of Frantz Fanon: “Each generation must, out of relative obscurity, discover its mission, fulfil it, or betray it.” Northern politicians today are betraying that mission.

Yet, they remain curiously silent. Bereft of coordinated opposition, devoid of strategic vision, and increasingly cut off from the masses they represent; they have become willing passengers in a train racing toward political irrelevance.

We must learn lessons from our past. The North should remember the fate of the NPC-led First Republic, which misread the signals of national discontent. When the crisis of representation, inequality, and ethnic suspicion peaked, it birthed the January 1966 coup, decimating the old order and plunging Nigeria into years of instability. The refusal to listen to dissenting voices, and the arrogance of power, led to a tragic reckoning.

Similarly, the political collapse of the Second Republic under President Shehu Shagari was preceded by complaints of favouritism, economic mismanagement, and elite disconnect from the masses. The same mistake is being repeated now—not by the presidency, but by northern politicians too afraid to speak or too interested in their personal gain to care.

One cannot forget the fate of Northern political heavyweights during the military regimes. General Sani Abacha’s government saw northern leaders used and discarded, with few able to influence national policy. When the military was done, the North was left politically scattered. The consolidation of power in the hands of the few has never served the interests of the region in the long term.

The Northern masses are watching. The same masses who marched for Buhari, who cheered Atiku, who defended the North’s right to leadership and inclusion, now feel abandoned. They feel unrepresented and voiceless. Their children are unemployed. Their schools are broken. Their roads are impassable. Their youth are targeted and killed in other regions.  And yet their leaders wine and dine in Abuja, afraid to speak out lest they lose favour.

A popular Hausa saying goes, “Ian Kura ta yen shire, to tana Shirin hair ne” (when the hyena is silent, it is preparing to pounce). A silent North does not mean a submissive North. Political volcanoes erupt not when opposition is loud, but when discontent is quiet and suppressed.

Today, Northern politicians must learn from the late Malam Aminu Kano, who refused to toe the line of the political elite when it meant betraying the common man. He once said, “The poor cannot sleep because they are hungry, and the rich cannot sleep because the poor are awake”. Are northern leaders sleeping peacefully now? They should not be.

The danger is not just Tinubu’s overreach or Southern entrenchment. The greater danger is that Northern politicians, through their silence, are handing over the keys of national relevance without a fight. Their docility is interpreted as consent. But as John Stuart Mill warned: “The worth of a state in the long run is the worth of the individuals composing it”.

The North must rediscover its voice—not for power’s sake, but for justice, equity and national unity. It must ask hard questions. Why are development projects eluding its vast territories? Why are its universities underfunded while those in Lagos flourish? Why are its children out of school while the federal government invests in smart cities elsewhere?

Northern elders, youth groups, traditional rulers, and thought leaders must converge and reframe the region’s political agenda. They must demand development and accountability. They must hold their own leaders to account. In this pivotal moment, history is watching. The North must heed its lessons. Political power is never permanently owned; it is borrowed and must be defended through relevance, unity and courage. If northern politicians continue their current path of complacency and silence, they risk becoming footnotes in the story of Nigeria’s unfolding power shift.

The great Chinua Achebe once warned, “A man who does not know where the rain began to beat him cannot say where he dried his body.” Northern politicians must trace the roots of this political marginalisation and act decisively—before the next election cycle dries them out completely. The clock is ticking, and history is not always kind to those who sleep through its turning.

 

El-Yakubu is a Professor of Chemical Engineering at Ahmadu Bello University Email: [email protected]