The shifting landscape of opposition under Tinubu

In 1980, when the Shehu Shagari administration controversially deported the majority leader of the Borno State House of Assembly, Shugaba Abdulrahman Darman, on the claim that he was an illegal immigrant from Chad, it was the opposition that stood firm.

Though Darman was a member of the Great Nigeria Peoples Party (GNPP), Chief Obafemi Awolowo of the Unity Party of Nigeria (UPN) and other opposition figures rallied to condemn the move. Awolowo penned a widely circulated letter to President Shagari, scathingly questioning whether the president ever considered the impact of his policies before implementing them.

This spirit of robust opposition endured throughout the Second Republic. Awolowo again famously warned in a 1983 letter: “My dear Shehu, … the ship of our nation is sailing fast across a huge rock, and unless you, as a leader, courageously and swiftly take action to stop and redirect it to a safe shore, the result will be catastrophic—the magnitude of which has never been recorded in the annals of human history.”

SPONSOR AD

The Second Republic’s opposition, by many accounts, reflected the vitality last seen in the First Republic and the pre-independence era, when the Action Group (AG), the Northern Elements Progressive Union (NEPU), the United Middle Belt Congress (UMBC) and the Niger Delta Congress (NDC) challenged the dominance of the Northern People’s Congress (NPC) and its ally, the National Council of Nigeria and the Cameroons (NCNC).

Opposition parties then were unrelenting in spotlighting policies they believed favoured the North or perpetuated corruption and mismanagement. Even during military rule, when opposition politics was largely suppressed, dissent found other forms of expression.

During Ibrahim Babangida’s transition programme, when elected state and local structures were in place, the military still restricted legislative activity by imposing “no-go” areas. Yet, organisations like the Nigeria Labour Congress (NLC), the National Association of Nigerian Students (NANS) and civil society groups resisted policies like the Structural Adjustment Programme (SAP) with formidable resolve.

Under the late Sani Abacha, when politicians were co-opted into the National Constitutional Conference, many still pushed back—demanding a timetable for returning to democratic rule. Labour unions such as NUPENG and PENGASSAN not only participated but often led the charge for democratic reforms, gaining public trust in the process.

Today, the dynamics are starkly different. Under President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, opposition politics appears muted, if not outright compliant. Party leaders and lawmakers who are expected to hold the government accountable now seem cosier with the presidency, undermining their credibility.

Nothing illustrated this political surrender more clearly than the President’s 2025 budget presentation in December. Rather than scrutinise the proposals, lawmakers erupted in chants of “on your mandate we shall stand!”—an act more befitting a campaign rally than a parliamentary proceeding.

Meanwhile, internal crises continue to ravage opposition parties, leading to defections that further strengthen the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC). This has sparked a troubling question: does an effective opposition still exist in Nigeria’s democracy?

The 10th National Assembly boasts one of the most diverse party representations in recent history—with the People’s Democratic Party (PDP), Labour Party (LP), APGA, New Nigeria People’s Party (NNPP), Young Progressives Party (YPP) and Social Democratic Party (SDP) all holding seats.

On paper, this should signal a robust, multi-party legislature. In reality, however, the executive branch has had an easy ride. Contentious bills—on tax reforms, national anthem changes, and the declaration of emergency in Rivers State—have passed with barely a murmur from lawmakers.

Even opposition state governors, historically the backbone of anti-government coalitions, have largely played it safe. The few vocal dissenters have mostly emerged from within the APC itself. When Governor Babagana Zulum of Borno publicly criticised the tax reform proposals, he stood alone. The expected chorus of resistance from opposition governors was absent. Instead, an opposition governor, Umo Eno of Akwa Ibom state, was among the first to endorse the president for a second term. The wave of defections from the opposition parties to the ruling party has also been at an all time high.

Opposition parties with long-standing structures, rich histories and mass followings now seem to exist only in name. When they do respond to national issues, their statements are often contradictory and quickly undermined by internal divisions.

Labour unions, once reliable rallying points in times of national hardship, have also lost momentum. The NLC, for example, has repeatedly backed down from planned mass actions, raising doubts about its resolve. Civil society organisations, too, have grown timid—resorting mostly to press statements and vague legal threats that rarely lead to action.

The 10th National Assembly has been labelled a “rubber stamp” legislature—a chamber that rarely challenges the presidency. Yet Senate President Godswill Akpabio defended the body, stating: “When elected into the National Assembly… your constituents will not give you boxing gloves. It’s not a boxing tournament. You are there to work in a bipartisan manner for the interest of Nigeria.”

Senate Leader Opeyemi Bamidele echoed this, citing over 39 consultative meetings on the 2024 tax reform bills as proof of parliamentary engagement. Still, for many Nigerians, the perception remains: the opposition is not doing enough.

With the country facing deepening economic hardship, citizens feel alienated from major policy decisions. Many believe a more active opposition would have compelled the government to adopt a more people-centred approach.

Professor Hassan Saliu, President of the Nigerian Political Science Association, attributed the weakness of opposition politics to a lack of ideological identity within parties. Without clear ideological foundations, parties drift, and accountability suffers.

Similarly, Professor Gbade Ojo, a political scientist and former Oyo State chief of staff, lamented that opposition figures have become little more than “irreverent critics”—disorganised and disengaged from issue-based politics. This, he warned, erodes credibility and weakens democracy.

Nigerians fondly recall the impact of robust opposition in shaping the country’s democratic progress. From resisting attempts to extend President Olusegun Obasanjo’s tenure through constitutional reform, to the Occupy Nigeria protests that forced a reversal of harsh fuel subsidy policies, the benefits of vibrant dissent remain etched in public memory.

It is with this history in mind that Nigerians now look back with nostalgia—yearning for the brand of opposition politics that once stood firm in defence of the people but today seems to have lost its voice.