When political movement is mistaken for national renewal

By LANRE OGUNDIPE

There is a Yoruba proverb whose wisdom travels far beyond tribe, language, or region: Àjànàkú kò ní tí kó máa rìn, àmọ́ ẹsẹ̀ rẹ̀ kan ní yóò yàtọ̀, translate thus – the elephant may change direction, but it remains the same elephant.

It is a proverb about power, appearance, and deception. It warns that movement should not be mistaken for change, and that a shift in direction does not always mean a change in character. Nothing better explains Nigeria’s present political moment.

Across the country, there is renewed excitement around opposition gatherings, declarations, and strategic meetings, especially the recent opposition summit in Ibadan where familiar political heavyweights gathered under the language of rescue, unity, and democratic survival. The message was simple and attractive – Nigeria must be saved from one-party domination, and the ruling order must be challenged.

For many citizens weighed down by hardship, insecurity, and frustration, such language naturally creates hope. But hope must never replace memory. Because the first duty of serious politics is not excitement; it is honesty.

And honesty demands that we ask a difficult question: are Nigerians witnessing genuine political renewal, or merely another rearrangement of the same elite class under a new slogan? Because political movement is not the same as political transformation.

Yesterday’s ruling elite often returns as today’s opposition reformer. Yesterday’s defenders of power suddenly become custodians of democracy. Yesterday’s architects of the old order reappear as prophets of a new republic. The robe changes.

The appetite often does not. This is why citizens must examine opposition politics beyond applause and beyond hatred for incumbents.

When names like Atiku Abubakar, Peter Obi, Rabiu Kwankwaso, Rotimi Amaechi, Seyi Makinde, and others gather under one roof, it creates the image of national urgency and opposition seriousness.

But coalition is not photography.

A coalition is not a group picture. It is not a press statement. It is not men sharing microphones and exchanging anti-government speeches. Coalition is built on sacrifice, trust, and a shared vision of governance.

And that is where the real problem begins. What exactly binds these men together beyond the idea that President Bola Ahmed Tinubu must be defeated?

Is there a shared economic doctrine? A common constitutional vision? A clear restructuring agenda? A security philosophy? A governance model beyond replacing the current occupant?

If the only unifying principle is “Tinubu must go,” then what exists is not yet a national alternative; it is an emotional alliance.

Emotion can win applause. It cannot run a country.

This is not the first time Nigeria has seen this. In 2015, the All Progressives Congress itself was born from a broad coalition of strange political bedfellows united primarily by one goal to remove the People’s Democratic Party and defeat Goodluck EbeleJonathan. It succeeded because electoral arithmetic defeated ideological inconsistency.

But once power was won, the contradictions returned. Progressives, conservatives, regional blocs, ex-military power brokers, all sharing one throne and negotiating one inheritance.

Victory was arithmetic. Governance became architecture. Many coalitions master the first and fail at the second. This is not unique to Nigeria.

In Kenya, the National Rainbow Coalition defeated the old KANU order in 2002 through broad anti-incumbent unity. But internal fractures followed because the coalition was better at removing power than managing it.

In South Africa, the anti-apartheid alliance succeeded not only because it opposed apartheid, but because it carried a moral architecture for nation-building beyond regime removal.

That difference matters.

A coalition built only on resentment often collapses when victory arrives because the common enemy disappears and ambition returns.

That is why another Yoruba proverb becomes important – Àgbájọ ọwọ́ la fi ń so’yà; àjèjì ọwọ́ kì í gbé ẹrù d’órí; joined hands lift the mortar; unfamiliar hands cannot carry a heavy burden together.

The Nigerian opposition must answer this truth.

Can unfamiliar ambitions truly carry one national burden together? Or are we simply watching a parade of personal ambitions disguised as patriotism?

The ruling party understands this weakness.

For the APC and Tinubu, the greatest political weapon is not popularity but incumbency. In Africa, incumbency is often stronger than ideology. It controls appointments, patronage, timing, institutional influence, and the language of state authority. Tinubu is not politically accidental. He is a system builder.

But incumbency also carries danger.

No government is defeated more effectively than by the suffering of ordinary people.

Inflation is political.

Fuel prices are political.

Food scarcity is political.

Insecurity is political.

The inability of citizens to breathe economically becomes the strongest campaign against any government.

Governments are rarely removed by speeches. They are removed by lived hardship.

This is where the opposition finds its oxygen.

But citizens must also confront themselves.

It is easy to blame politicians alone. Harder to admit that bad systems survive because citizens repeatedly negotiate with them.

Vote-buying survives because people collect.

Ethnic politics survives because people protect “their own” even against national interest.

Corruption survives because public outrage often ends where private benefit begins.

This is not a tribal problem. It is a national moral problem.

Northern, Southern, Christian, Muslim, Yoruba, Hausa, Igbo every region has suffered from the same sickness: loyalty to tribe over loyalty to truth.

And when identity becomes stronger than citizenship, the nation becomes weaker than ambition.

Again, Yoruba wisdom speaks plainly: Bí ọmọde bá fi ọwọ́ ọ̀tún bà èérú, a fi ọwọ́ òsì fà á mọ́ra, which translate – when a child touches ash with the right hand, the left hand pulls it closer.

Sometimes the victim helps sustain the fire.

That is Nigeria’s hardest truth.

The ruling party seeks continuity.

The opposition seeks re-entry.

The people seek rescue without discipline.

That triangle produces stagnation.

Even the question of who becomes the opposition standard bearer reveals the same problem. It may not be the strongest candidate who emerges, but the least resisted the one powerful interests can tolerate.

Atiku carries reach but also fatigue.

Peter Obi carries moral momentum but limited establishment trust.

Kwankwaso carries regional discipline but narrow national comfort.

Amaechi carries experience but limited emotional pull.

Makinde carries strategic relevance but perhaps a longer political timetable.

Sometimes coalitions do not choose the best man.

They choose the safest compromise.

And compromise without conviction often produces government without direction.

This is why Nigeria’s real struggle is not APC versus opposition.

It is system versus reform.

Do Nigerians want a new government, or do they want a new political culture?

The two are not the same.