It began, as many things in Nigerian politics do, with a whisper in the corridors of power. Whispers that Vice President Kashim Shettima may not be renominated as Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s running mate in 2027. Then came the murmurs at press briefings, the social media chatter, the speculative headlines. And before long, the story had grown legs — a supposed power struggle in the presidency, a northern bloc feeling sidelined, and a political marriage heading for the rocks.
But how much of this noise is grounded in fact? And how much of it is just pre-election theatre designed to distract an already weary populace?
In most functioning democracies, the selection of a running mate is rarely seen as a battle for survival. It is typically a strategic decision — influenced by electoral math, regional considerations, and internal party negotiations. In Nigeria, however, where ethnic balancing and loyalty politics often take precedence over policy, the question of “who gets what” becomes a national obsession.
Kashim Shettima, the former Borno State governor turned vice president, was chosen in 2023 for very specific reasons — his northern roots, his loyalty to Tinubu, and his ability to counterbalance religious and geopolitical tensions. That decision paid off politically. But 2027 is a new game. The APC is facing internal cracks, particularly in the North, where murmurs of dissatisfaction over appointments, contracts, and political influence have become impossible to ignore.
And it doesn’t help that in recent times, governors and party bigwigs from the North have begun holding “strategy meetings” in Gombe, Kano, and Kaduna — none of which included Shettima in any significant capacity. For a man who should be the bridge between Tinubu’s Southwest and the Northern political juggernaut, the silence is loud.
Still, it’s important to remember that the vice presidency is not an entitlement. Shettima’s renomination, if it happens, will be a strategic choice, not a reward for simply being there. Nigeria’s constitution does not protect running mates from political reshuffling. And global precedent shows that more than a third of incumbents opt for a new VP when seeking reelection, especially when voter confidence or internal party unity is at stake.
As inflation continues to hover around 28%, and youth unemployment climbs past 33%, Nigerians are desperate for progress, not political palace intrigue. The real focus, many argue, should be on policies that will stabilize the naira, reduce food prices, and address the escalating violence in Benue, Plateau, and parts of the Northwest. Not on whether one man keeps a title.
In the end, if the ruling APC wants to convince Nigerians that it’s serious about governance, it must stop allowing its internal power plays to dominate national discourse. Whether Shettima returns in 2027 or not is a decision for party strategists — not a national emergency.
But one thing remains clear: in a country where optics often outweigh outcomes, every appointment — or lack of one — will be interpreted as either a betrayal or a blessing. And in the theatre of Nigerian politics, that’s the real story behind the story.