The Yoruba coinage “Sweet is the remembrance of the righteous,” often mistaken for a scriptural quote, translates to a sentiment akin to Proverbs 10:7: “The memory of the righteous is blessed but the name of the wicked will rot.” This profound statement sets a contemplative tone for an analysis of the political landscape, particularly concerning the tenure of former President Muhammad Buhari. In a viral Arise TV interview, Buba Galadima, a long-time friend turned critic, confessed to being instrumental in drafting Buhari into partisan politics. Galadima’s account strongly suggests that Buhari’s entry was orchestrated to serve a predominantly ethnic, specifically Northern (Fulani), agenda.

According to Galadima’s candid revelation, Buhari was persuaded into politics primarily to help the North contain the perceived “freedom” of the Yoruba ethnic militia, the Oodua Peoples Congress (OPC). This perceived threat was compounded by the backdrop of a Yoruba presidency under Olusegun Obasanjo and the influential leadership of Bola Tinubu in Lagos. Given this foundational premise, it becomes evident that Buhari’s political interests, focus, and policies could not have been truly national in scope. Those who harbored expectations of a pan-Nigerian leadership from him, despite his ascent to the country’s highest office with expansive constitutional and dictatorial powers, were arguably living in a state of delusion. His primary assignment was distinctly ethnic, for which he was meticulously groomed and mobilized, with his mobilizers and backers likely providing the necessary financial, human, and promotional resources.

From the perspective of those who engineered his political rise, Buhari might have been merely a prop, adorned with the “mai gaskiya” (honest one) persona. This is akin to the Yoruba saying of “calling a mad man the groom, to allow the hailer an easy passage.” Despite his admittedly disciplined military background, his presidency often seemed to confirm the adage that “who paid the piper dictates the tune,” even amidst his proclaimed impartiality of “belonging to all and not belonging to anyone.” This raises a crucial question: was the retired General always inherently disdainful of Nigerians who were not Fulani or Muslim, and absolutely selfish in his allegiances? Like many individuals, Buhari might have been raised as a closet jingoist and, influenced by his religious orientation, a bigot.

Indeed, many, including those who now criticize the late President, unknowingly harbor their own latent religionist and regionist biases. It often takes a moment of crisis or “meltdown” to expose the true depth of one’s prejudices against a particular ethnic or religious group. The text illustrates this with stark examples: some Muslims would seemingly “resurrect from Hades” if their remains were mistakenly carried near a church, just as some Christians would consider Sallah meat sacrilege or entering a mosque akin to closing the gates of heaven against them. Yet, it is emphasized that God, and even Jesus, are not religionists. The term “Christian,” in fact, was coined by unbelievers in Antioch to distinguish followers of Jesus’ ministry, as per Acts 11:26. The divine seeks hearts dedicated to Him, not religionists who revel in wickedness.

Considering the pervasive Igbophobia among Yoruba individuals in Lagos, one is compelled to question whether these “hate harbingers” ever reflect on the fundamental truth that God created all humans before the imposition of religious and regional classifications, and even before the establishment of their so-called ancestral lands. There is a common assertion that Igbo people possess an “expansionist mentality” due to a distinct orientation, which purportedly necessitates that their race be “commercially-muscled” like a munched orange in Lagos and across the South West. However, the Igbo race itself is not without fault, particularly within its own territories, often displaying unwelcoming tendencies akin to any protectionist or nationalist group.

In a gesture of fairness to the Yoruba race, it is noted that they traditionally maintained a globalist approach in their interactions with others, a characteristic that only began to wane with the advent of divisive politics surrounding the “no-man’s land” controversy. While the indifference of Igbo newcomers to Yoruba admonitions about respecting boundaries is not defended, it poses a hypocritical dilemma for the Yoruba: how can the power-mongering Fulani be tolerated as political partners, while the Igbo are deemed undeserving, especially when the Fulani race exhibits an expansionist mentality similar to the Igbo? Perhaps the distinction lies in the Igbo’s more direct, “in-your-face” approach to their agenda, which tends to focus more on economic and commercial dominance. In stark contrast, the Fulani, encompassing both aristocrats and their foot soldiers, have shed any pretense of subtlety in their relentless pursuit of power, both political and territorial, with the clear objective of subduing other ethnic groupings.

Every form of expansionism inevitably leads to strained displacement. However, political dominance stands as the epitome of expansionist ruthlessness, given the inherent superiority of political power over other forms, including economic power. In our contemporary society, similar to many others, where the power of the State is virtually limitless, all other advantages become subsidiary. The entity that wields political power controls both the means and the resources, holding “both yam and knife.” A compelling illustration can be observed in America, where billionaires now find themselves aligning with figures like Donald Trump, not out of newfound affection, but due to the profound adverse impact presidential power, when unsparingly administered, can inflict upon their vast business empires. Mark Zuckerberg, the Meta magnate, has transitioned from being an unabashed adversary in Trump’s first term to reportedly funding his presidential library. A president in a second and final term, with a clear focus on vendetta, presents a formidable adversary, a reality that resonates from Abuja to Washington.

The persistent question remains: why are Fulani herdsmen, traditionally nomadic, now laying siege to various states, particularly those predominantly inhabited by Christians, engaging in killings that appear to target total annihilation? If the intent is to decimate original land owners, then the underlying goal must be territorial takeover, a pattern observed in the sustained siege. Unconfirmed rumors suggest that Muslim Fulani political leadership is allegedly committed to ensuring the demise of Christian-dominated states in the North, particularly in the North Central and North East regions, manifesting through the daily bludgeoning under the guise of herdsmen/farmers clashes. This raises a critical query for the Yoruba people: how can they remain complacent with such developments while simultaneously harboring deep abhorrence for the Igbo? Is this discrepancy attributable solely to the fact that the besieged states are primarily in the North?

Do we still recall the widespread panic that gripped the South West when Fulani expansionists advanced closer to home, before figures like Sunday Igboho—despite his alleged excesses, a Yoruba hero in his own right—interposed a significant barrier to their agenda? Perhaps Oyo State was providentially positioned as a Yoruba liberator. Had Ibadan not repelled the Fulani invaders from Ilorin during the 1840 Osogbo war, preventing their advance, nearly all Obas in Yoruba land might now bear the title of Emir. Galadima, in his interview, specifically cited Ilorin as a point of contention, the driving force behind drafting Buhari into politics. He alluded to an alleged move by the OPC to dislodge the Fulani emirship and restore the throne to its original Yoruba occupants. This implies that Buhari was strategically brought in to safeguard the conquest of Muslim Fulani and to further their expansionist agenda. Consequently, the Yoruba became unwitting enablers, with the expectation of benefiting, leading us to our current precarious position.

Even the long-held argument regarding fidelity to political promises, which historically favored the Fulani hegemonists, no longer holds true. Were it not for the valor of Iyiola Omisore, then the national secretary of the All Progressives Congress (APC), the South West would have emerged empty-handed from their “alliance,” as Buhari sought another Muslim Fulani, Ahmad Lawan, as his successor, despite making his Vice President, Yemi Osinbajo, a mere passenger in their administration, even though they ran on a joint ticket. A persistent riddle is the true nature of Buhari’s heart. Was he simply programmed into the one-sidedness that inflicted countless casualties upon the country by his sponsors who “dragged” him into politics and ultimately secured the presidency for him, or did he inherently lack the capacity to love others?

The Yoruba proverb, “Ohun to ba wa ninu eni ni oti npa eni mo” (what is within a person is what liquor intoxicates further), posits that intoxication merely fuels a person’s true intentions. Thus, whoever embraces wickedness after being taught it, already harbors wickedness within. Buhari’s historical preference for a Muslim/Muslim ticket as a military ruler could well indicate an inherent Christianophobia. Before he was dissuaded, a Muslim/Muslim ticket with Bola Tinubu was his preferred combination for the 2015 election, despite his already entrenched perception as an Islamic extremist. In an interview with Channels TV, he expressed seeing nothing wrong with such a combination. His infamous trip to Oyo State, where he told then-Governor Lam Adesina, “your people are killing my people,” explicitly set the tone for his future presidency, yet most Nigerians, particularly in the North Central who abandoned Jonathan for him, remained tone-deaf. Even the South West, which aligned with Tinubu for the 2015 alliance, paid a heavy price, with Buhari’s Fulani kinsmen dispossessing everyone of their peace, seemingly aided by the state power wielded by the very man “drafted” to “protect” his own.

While Tinubu’s presidency might appear to be a windfall for the Yoruba from the political “marriage” with Buhari’s North, it was a dividend accompanied by considerable diffidence for a race historically sired by legendary warriors. Throughout Buhari’s eight-year reign, the Yoruba political leadership, then led by the current president, seemed to genuflect. Even when the daughter of the symbolic ethnic leader, Papa Reuben Fasoranti, was brutally murdered by Fulani terrorists, the most the political leader of the race could utter was, “where are the cows?” Some speculated that he was strategically “stooping to conquer,” akin to catching a monkey at its own game. However, one recalls another leader, whose memory is destined to endure beyond the second coming of Christ, who vowed never to glorify a cow to the extent of eating its hide. And had it not been for individuals like Omisore, whom God used to resist material enticements and stand firm for the race, would the daily prostration (dobale) before the “cow” not have been utterly in vain?

Some have attempted to argue that perhaps Buhari was a good man with bad intentions. However, the true content of a man’s heart serves as the most accurate indicator of his real self. The Yoruba adage that intoxication merely fuels a person’s true intent perfectly encapsulates this. Like his lean physical frame, the heart of the late leader appeared too narrow to encompass love for individuals outside of his own race and religion. The week of his passing and burial witnessed a poignant duel between the ordinary Nigerians and the political class, the latter of whom spared no effort to posthumously sanctify him for history. Yet, the everyday people largely held a contrasting view, though one should not subscribe to the vitriolic hate spewed on social media, especially considering he reportedly sought forgiveness from those he had wronged before his demise. The former president has concluded his earthly journey; the rest lies between him and his Creator. For those still living with a “god complex,” his almost-shallow grave should serve as a profound existential lesson. What truly resonated amidst all the events surrounding his final exit was the palpable jubilation in Kano among the very “talakawa” (the poor) he purportedly dedicated his life to serving. The “Buhari ya mutu” (Buhari is dead) viral videos were particularly heartbreaking to witness. May God forgive his shortcomings, amen.