Atiku, Obi and the ‘Confused Marriage’ Called ADC
By Kabir Akintayo
“A house divided against itself cannot stand.”
The timeless quote above by Abraham Lincoln, drawn from the Bible, was made famous in his 1858 speech during a Senate contest against incumbent Stephen Douglas. Though Lincoln lost that race, the speech catapulted him into national prominence and ultimately paved the way to the U.S. presidency.
In the Nigerian political context, a similar parable seems to echo within the African Democratic Congress (ADC), now rebranded as the platform for a so-called “grand coalition” of opposition forces aiming to unseat President Bola Ahmed Tinubu in the 2027 general elections.
What began with fanfare and optimism is now showing signs of deep fractures, ideological contradictions, and personal ambitions that threaten to derail the coalition before it even finds its footing. The ADC was adopted by various opposition elements, particularly aggrieved members of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), All Progressive Congress (APC), Labour Party (LP), and other minor parties, as a neutral ground to unify and mount a credible challenge against the APC.
The idea was to consolidate the electoral strengths of 2023 presidential candidates like Atiku Abubakar and Peter Obi, whose combined vote tally nearly matched—and arguably could have surpassed that of Tinubu if not for the fractured opposition.
In 2023, President Tinubu polled 8,794,726 votes, while Atiku garnered 6,984,520 and Obi 6,101,533. Simple arithmetic shows a combined figure of over 13 million—enough to not only win, but win convincingly. This numerical potential forms the bedrock of the coalition’s political calculus: unite, consolidate, and capture the presidency in 2027.
But as history warns, arithmetic alone doesn’t win elections. Politics is often more about alignment than addition. One of the biggest stumbling blocks for the coalition remains the controversial and often politically charged issue of power rotation.
According to an unwritten agreement rooted in Nigeria’s fragile unity and federal character, power is expected to rotate between the North and South. With President Tinubu, a Southerner, currently in power, there’s an expectation that the South completes its eight-year cycle before power returns to the North in 2031.
This political reality puts Atiku Abubakar, the perennial candidate from the North, in a difficult position. Will he step aside and play the elder statesman role to allow a Southerner—possibly Obi, to fly the coalition’s flag? History suggests otherwise.
Atiku’s insistence on contesting the 2023 PDP ticket, despite the party zoning the presidency to the South, was a critical trigger for the internal rebellion that birthed the infamous G-5 group, led by then-Rivers State Governor Nyesom Wike. The resulting divisions within the PDP led to defections, including Obi’s exit to the Labour Party, and a fractured opposition that paved the way for Tinubu’s emergence.
If Atiku insists on running again in 2027 despite his age, political baggage, and the southern agitation, he risks repeating the same fatal political miscalculation. And this time, the damage could be even more severe.
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On the flip side, Peter Obi is walking a political tightrope. As a symbol of a new political movement driven largely by disenchanted youth and progressive urban voters; the ‘Obidients’, any alliance that casts him in a subordinate role, such as vice president to Atiku, could erode his base and credibility.
Such a compromise would be seen as a betrayal of the movement’s ideals and could politically emasculate him. While Obi’s aides have continued to affirm his loyalty to the Labour Party, backchannel discussions within the ADC suggest that a joint ticket involving Obi and former Kaduna Governor Nasir El-Rufai is being explored.
The combination, though ideologically odd, could be politically potent—offering both geographical and religious balance. However, the ideological gaps and public skepticism surrounding El-Rufai’s controversial tenure could make such a pairing a hard sell to Obi’s core followers.
Within the ADC itself, discontent is growing. The party was envisioned as a neutral platform devoid of entrenched political interests, but has seemingly become a battleground for Atiku loyalists. Many of the politicians who defected to the ADC in recent months are aligned with the former vice president, prompting concerns that the coalition is merely a disguised extension of his personal political ambition.
The promise of a one-term presidency, which both Atiku and Obi have repeatedly floated, is viewed with suspicion. Political history is replete with broken promises of similar nature. Former President Goodluck Jonathan, who initially pledged not to seek a second term after completing Umaru Yar’Adua’s tenure, reneged and contested the 2015 elections—only to lose amid nationwide discontent and accusations of insincerity.
Similarly, Atiku’s promise to hand over to Obi in 2031 rings hollow for many political observers. Power, once held, is rarely relinquished voluntarily in Nigeria. The fear that Atiku might renege again is real, and it’s breeding distrust within the coalition’s rank and file.
Meanwhile, the PDP, once Africa’s largest political party, remains in disarray. After 16 years of uninterrupted rule, the party has been plagued by leadership crises, factional battles, and an inability to produce or rally behind a unifying candidate.
The fact that the party is now courting former President Jonathan who has publicly fraternized with Tinubu speaks volumes about the leadership vacuum within the PDP. With 10 sitting governors, the PDP’s inability to groom and project a fresh presidential hopeful from within speaks to a crisis of vision and internal democracy.
First it was Obi, now Jonathan. The party appears to be grasping at straws rather than building for the future. At this point, it is fair to ask whether this so-called grand coalition is truly a “coalition of opposition” or a “coalition of confusion,” as President Tinubu aptly labeled it.
From zoning disputes and personality clashes to ideological inconsistencies and trust deficits, the coalition is fast becoming a political quagmire. The stakes for 2027 are high. With Nigeria facing economic instability, widespread insecurity, and a disillusioned populace, the need for a strong, united, and credible opposition cannot be overstated.
But if personal ambition continues to trump collective strategy, the ruling APC may once again find itself coasting to victory because the opposition failed to get its act together. Until the coalition resolves its internal contradictions, streamlines its objectives, and genuinely unites around a shared vision rather than personalities, it will remain what it is fast becoming—a coalition of confusion.
