One thing that Nigerians do very well is to honour our dead.
General Abacha died in 1998, but twenty-eight years later, you can still find the odd lorry, Keke Napep or ‘Okada’ with a faded picture of the general wearing his signature sunshades. People still write accolades and attribute many road constructions to his tenure. Death has a way of making us look at things differently, and nowhere is this truer than in the case of Abacha, whom people prefer to remember fondly. Never mind the horrific atrocities that occurred under his rule, Nigerians, especially Northern Nigerians, prefer to warmly idolise their general.
The same love has been largely extended to President Yaradua. Now and then, in May, Nigerian Newspapers are flooded with remembrance ads and memorials of the gentle President from Katsina. His people still remember him, and his stickers are still found on vehicles around the country.
Why then is President Muhammadu Buhari’s case different? Where is the love? Jama’a, where is the love??
Exactly one year ago, President Muhammadu Buhari (PMB) died on July 13 in London. He had a befitting burial in his hometown of Daura, and many family, friends, political loyalists, employees, well-wishers, hangers-on, and political clout chasers all flocked to his hometown to register their sympathies.
Now, just a year later, everywhere is silent.
No newspaper ad, whether online or in hard copy, had PMB’s plastered on one of its pages. No long eulogy. No touching tributes discussing how life has been post-Buhari. Not even NTA remembered him by replaying their standard documentary on the life of PMB. NTA fa!
Nothing. Shuru kawai Alhaji! Why?
I have a few theories that many of you may not like.
The first is factual. We have become a generation with memory loss. When a major news trend lasts for a few hours, and by the end of the day we have all forgotten how children are kidnapped and sleeping in the forests with bandits, then we have a serious problem. It’s like we all have collective Attention Deficit Disorder. Once a news no longer trends, we move on to the next exciting thing.
The second thing is our collective apathy, which I have discussed previously on this page. Collective apathy is when a group of people stops caring about social problems. It happens when everyone thinks someone else will fix a problem. People feel powerless, tired, or overwhelmed by bad news. This causes everyone to ignore the issue. We no longer care about problems long enough to feel the impact. In Nigerian terms, ‘We no send anymore’. PMB is gone, so let’s face our ever-increasing mountain of problems.
Thirdly, I think, it has to do with PMB’s government, and this I feel, would be where many will disagree. In public spaces, I like to carry out informal surveys by asking about their opinions of the government. Whenever the issue of PMB arose, people always lamented about the following issues.
One is the End SARS Massacre. The 2020 End SARS protests against police brutality, particularly by the Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS), were a turning point in Buhari’s presidency. Nigerians, led by young people, demanded an end to extrajudicial killings, extortion, and harassment. The protests were largely peaceful until October 20, 2020, when security forces allegedly opened fire on unarmed protesters at the Lekki Toll Gate in Lagos. The incident, which left an unconfirmed number of dead and injured, became a symbol of the administration’s disregard for its youth. Buhari’s silence in the aftermath, coupled with the government’s denial of the massacre despite evidence, deepened public distrust. To date, justice has not been served.
Then came the cash scarcity of 2023. In early 2023, under Buhari’s leadership, Nigeria experienced a severe cash scarcity due to the naira redesign policy introduced by the Central Bank of Nigeria. The new notes were unavailable, and the old ones were declared illegal, leading to widespread suffering. People stood in endless queues outside banks. Fights broke out at ATMs. Small business owners lost their daily income. Several Nigerians reportedly died due to lack of cash to pay for food, medication, or transportation to hospitals.
I remember seeing rural farmers in Danbatta, Kano, selling a whole basket of tomatoes for only N5000 cash so that they could feed their families. These people lived in remote villages and had no bank accounts and so had to slash the prices of their produce so as not to starve. Yet, the government pushed on with the policy, offering no meaningful relief. It was suffering inflicted by choice, not by chance. Despite a Supreme Court ruling against the policy, the Buhari administration ignored it, only reversing course after President Tinubu took office. For many, it was yet another example of Buhari’s tone-deaf governance.
But perhaps one of the most painful aspects of Buhari’s presidency was the total breakdown of security. In his campaign, he promised to defeat Boko Haram and restore peace. Instead, new threats emerged: kidnappers, bandits, and unknown gunmen. Traveling by road became a nightmare. Children were kidnapped from schools. Villages were attacked with impunity. Citizens were left to fend for themselves while the government offered ‘thoughts and prayers.’ I have lost count of the number of organised kidnappings that occurred during his eight-year tenure. An online search to count the number of kidnapping and raids in Nigeria from 2015 to 2023 came up with more than 300 hits.
I got tired and left the search.
So yes, in a way, I understand the silence. I understand why a man, who was once our darling, our hero, our messiah, whom we campaigned fiercely for, whom we stood in the hot, scorching sun to vote for, can die and we forget about him one year later.
But we are Nigerians, and singing praises about the dead is our area of expertise! Some of us may be grieving silently, but much like Abacha and Yaradua, I believe you can increase the tone a bit. Like the MC’s say: ‘Make some noise!’ Flood our timelines with his pictures so that we can erase memories and instead remember him fondly.
Afterall, our own time will come.
May his soul rest in peace, ameen.
And for us, may our ending be good. Allah ya kyautata namu karshen. Ameen.