Like the final act of a political opera decades in the making, Atiku Abubakar stands once more at the edge of history: not as a perennial contender, but perhaps as its eventual victor. Ignore the heckles from former aides turned presidential praise singers; the Waziri of Adamawa is not packing his bags for retirement. He’s reassembling his orchestra.
From the recycled sermons of Daniel Bwala, who now lectures his ex-boss about divine timing from his new seat in the presidential choir, to the jittery statements leaking from Aso Rock, one truth rings clear: Atiku rattles them. And why wouldn’t he? A man doesn’t contest six elections, survive political exile, beat IBB to a northern consensus ticket, and still retain relevance unless he possesses something deeper than mere ambition.
What once read like a political tragedy – a string of “almosts” and “could-have-been” – now feels like a prelude. For the first time since 2003, the ground under Atiku is not shifting but settling. The North feels spurned. The economy bites hard. Zoning rhetoric is stale bread to a starving electorate. And the coalition Atiku is now piecing together is not some abstract handshake but a deliberate, structured attempt at salvaging opposition politics from its self-inflicted wounds.