Let’s drop the sugarcoating and call this moment for what it is. The much-hyped ADC mega-coalition isn’t some celestial gathering of spotless saints marching in to save Nigeria’s soul. Far from it. It is an uneasy alliance of political juggernauts, serial party hoppers, and ex-power brokers who once fattened themselves at the national buffet but got pushed aside and now want to claw their way back into relevance.
These politicians aren’t driven by love for Nigeria or compassion for the market woman paying ₦1,500 for a loaf of bread or the graduate hawking recharge cards under scorching sun. They’re not out there to save the sick in our rotting hospitals or the students stuck in endless strikes. No — they’re simply aggrieved. Aggrieved that they no longer have access to the treasury tap. Their sudden burst of activism is not patriotism; it is pure, naked vengeance.
Yet, here lies the ugly truth: in a country overrun by a vicious one-party machine, you don’t storm the castle with a toothpick. You need heavyweights, structures, deep pockets, and ground game — even if those allies are characters you’d rather keep at arm’s length.
But the cold reality is that all these power mergers, smoky backroom deals, and “strategic alliances” are pointless if Peter Obi isn’t at the helm. Obi stands out not because he’s flawless, but because he embodies the only glimmer of authenticity and moral capital left in a system dripping with rot.
In 2023, Obi stunned the world by pulling 6.1 million votes, winning in Abuja and Lagos — the political nerve centers — and flipping the script on Nigeria’s toxic North-South, Christian-Muslim fault lines. He did this without the patronage of billionaire godfathers, without hidden oil block sponsors, and without the usual army of thugs on retainer. Instead, he ignited a genuine grassroots movement powered by hope, not handouts.
Meanwhile, Nigeria spirals deeper into catastrophe: inflation now stands at a soul-crushing 33%, while the naira staggers like a drunk at ₦1,500 per dollar. Over 80 million Nigerians live below the poverty line, hospitals have become morgues without electricity, and universities morph into ghost towns during endless strikes. Our leaders cruise in private jets, stage elaborate birthday parties, and wear designer watches that could pay a teacher’s salary for a decade — all while telling citizens to “tighten their belts.”
This coalition isn’t about love or unity. It’s a forced marriage to stop a raging monster from consuming what’s left of the village. You don’t walk down the aisle with these people because you trust them; you do it to survive. You do it to create just enough momentum to break the iron grip of a political structure that has held us hostage for decades.
Former US President Barack Obama once warned that when a government fails to earn its people’s trust, everything else collapses. Ronald Reagan reminded us that freedom has a price — and we must be willing to pay it.
This is the moment to choose: keep cheering for the same old criminals while they loot us blind, or dare to risk it all for a new beginning. We don’t need more ministers with padded contracts or governors who build statues instead of hospitals. We need technocrats, reformists, and leaders with moral spine — not the usual clowns fighting over who gets which ministry or who controls the biggest chunk of security votes.
Peter Obi may not be perfect, but he represents a decisive break from a vicious cycle. A choice to build rather than loot, to unify rather than divide, and to put people before profit.
This is not a romantic dance — it’s a bare-knuckle fight for survival. Either we choose messy, risky change now or keep clapping for thieves and call it “good governance” while the country burns.
History is watching. Future generations will judge who stood tall and who knelt to kiss the ring of their oppressors.
The choice is brutal but simple: fight or fold. Nigeria, choose wisely.
