In early May 2025, Nigeria’s political climate experienced a seismic shift. Anambra State Governor Charles Soludo made headlines by announcing that his party, the All Progressives Grand Alliance (APGA), had “officially adopted President Bola Tinubu” as its preferred candidate for the 2027 general elections.
The declaration, later ratified by APGA’s national governing council, signaled a remarkable realignment. The party’s decision was framed as an ideological convergence with Tinubu’s All Progressives Congress (APC), with shared values of progressive governance cited as the common ground. Political observers, however, noted that deeper historical and biographical currents were also at play.
Former Foreign Affairs Minister Bianca Ojukwu, daughter of APGA’s revered founder Dim Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu, strongly backed the move. She described it as a “consensus of the party” and affirmed APGA’s “commitment to the re-election of President Tinubu in 2027.” For many, the endorsement carried the symbolic weight of the Ojukwu name and reflected APGA’s evolving national strategy.
Perhaps more surprising was the involvement of traditional and cultural powerbrokers. On May 23, the apex Igbo socio-cultural group Ohanaeze Ndigbo—along with key stakeholders from the Southeast—gathered in Abia State, to publicly endorse his candidacy. In a communique, they hailed what they called a “historic consensus” and proclaimed the “official end” of the region’s historical opposition to federal leadership. For them, aligning with the mainstream national leadership under President Tinubu was both pragmatic and symbolic.
These endorsements coincided with the APC’s national summit in Abuja, held to mark Tinubu’s second year in office. There, party delegates from all six geopolitical zones declared Tinubu the “sole presidential candidate of the APC” for 2027. APC National Chairman Abdullahi Ganduje formally endorsed the decision, stating that Tinubu’s “bold economic reforms”—especially the removal of fuel subsidies and the unification of exchange rates—had “rebooted the economy.”
But this praise came with caution. Ganduje and others acknowledged the reforms had caused “severe short-term pain,” even as international institutions such as the IMF and global credit agencies voiced approval. While supporters applauded Tinubu’s willingness to challenge economic orthodoxy, the Nigerian populace, particularly those hit hardest by inflation, expressed a more cautious or outright critical view.
Not surprisingly, these high-level endorsements ignited a whirlwind of responses across Nigeria’s diverse political spectrum. Senator Orji Uzor Kalu (APC, Abia North) described the endorsement wave as “earned, not orchestrated,” and Osita Okechukwu, a former APC spokesperson, celebrated the APGA-Tinubu alliance as the rekindling of a “cross-regional partnership last seen in the First Republic.” APGA’s Bianca Ojukwu characterized Tinubu’s recent visit to Anambra as a demonstration of “inclusivity and unity.”
Yet critics saw the spectacle differently. During a May 25 political forum in the North, former Attorney-General Abubakar Malami rebuked the ruling party’s focus. “Why are we endorsing a president two years ahead of elections,” he asked, “while Nigerians face insecurity, poverty, and hunger?” He blamed policies like the “unplanned fuel subsidy removal” and “ineffective border management” for worsening the nation’s economic woes.
Former Vice President Atiku Abubakar, a consistent government critic, accused Tinubu of “dereliction of duty.” Speaking in April, he condemned the president’s frequent foreign travels amid domestic crises. “Nigerians are bleeding at home,” Atiku said, “while the president takes vacations abroad.” His criticisms gained further weight when Governor Babagana Zulum of Borno—himself an APC member—urged Tinubu to move past “sycophancy” and personally engage military chiefs to resolve procurement bottlenecks in the fight against insurgency.
Notably silent amid these developments was Peter Obi, the Labour Party’s 2023 presidential candidate and former APGA governor. APGA’s pivot toward Tinubu was widely seen as a snub to Obi’s political ambitions. Though he has remained quiet publicly, insiders report that Obi remains committed to a 2027 run under the Labour Party (LP). A splinter faction within the LP has emerged, accusing him of “neglecting coalition interests,” hinting at growing internal tensions.
While political actors traded barbs, Nigerian citizens voiced their reactions online. Platforms like X (formerly Twitter) and Facebook buzzed with polarized views. Some praised Tinubu’s endorsements as evidence of national consensus, calling him “God’s gift to Nigeria.” Others took to hashtags like #ReturnToSender and #Tinubu2027 to mock the early politicking, urging leaders to “fix the economy before campaigning.” In states like Kano and Kaduna, reports emerged of youths tearing down Tinubu’s posters—a symbolic protest against what they see as misplaced priorities.
Much of the public’s anger stems from Tinubu’s headline reforms. The removal of petrol subsidies and exchange rate liberalization were intended to stabilize the economy and attract foreign investment. While some global agencies praised these steps—crediting Tinubu with restoring investor confidence—domestic critics blame them for skyrocketing inflation, job losses, and economic despair. Reuters reported that the policies triggered “the worst cost-of-living crisis in recent memory.”
Education has also emerged as a political minefield. The launch of the Nigeria Education Loan Fund (NELFUND) aimed to provide student loans, but the rollout has stumbled. In late 2024, the ICPC raised alarms, stating that only ₦28.8 billion of the ₦100 billion allocated had reached institutions. The unexplained ₦71 billion gap caused outrage. Although NELFUND officials denied corruption—blaming verification delays—social media erupted with accusations of nepotism and regional bias. One viral post alleged that no major Southeastern universities received loan credits, suggesting political marginalization.
Tinubu’s administration continues to grapple with insecurity. Boko Haram attacks and mass kidnappings have persisted, particularly in the North. During Ramadan 2024, the president vowed to treat “bandits as terrorists” and promised no negotiations with criminals. His appointment of Nuhu Ribadu as National Security Adviser and a renewed focus on biometric ID systems signaled a strategy reset.
Still, public faith remains fragile. NGOs estimate that hundreds of thousands have died in insurgent-related violence since Tinubu took office. Governors like Zulum warn that the presidency is underestimating the threat, and some aides are accused of “filtering” the president’s briefings. Opposition leaders like Atiku portray Tinubu as detached, governing from afar while Nigerians die in the streets.
Pro-Tinubu voices counter these claims, pointing to successful military raids and high-profile rescues. They argue that the transition from Buhari’s administration to Tinubu’s leadership has caused temporary instability but will yield long-term results. Government channels regularly post updates of “neutralized insurgents” and “liberated communities.”
As the 2027 campaign season edges closer, Nigeria remains deeply divided. Supporters view Tinubu as a bold reformer, unafraid to make hard choices. They cite academic endorsements, rising foreign reserves, and a more globally respected naira as signs of progress. Detractors focus on the daily grind: high transport costs, empty classrooms, food inflation, and anxiety over personal safety.
For now, the May 2025 endorsements have become more than political statements. They are a lens into a country wrestling with hope, hardship, and high expectations. Whether Tinubu’s reforms will cement his legacy—or undermine it—remains an open question.
In this unfolding drama, it may not be party elders or press releases that determine the outcome, but the lived experiences of ordinary Nigerians.