Why Bauchi Needs Yusuf Tuggar

By Malam Uba Nana

Every once in a while, a political figure comes along who does not fully fit into the system—they challenge it, redraw its boundaries, and ask us to think differently about what leadership should look like. Yusuf Maitama Tuggar is one of those figures. His story, rooted in the dry plains of Bauchi State in northern Nigeria and extending all the way to the embassies of Berlin and global climate summits, is more than a résumé. It’s a parable about the kind of leadership the 21st century demands.

Tuggar is a man of many identities—businessman, legislator, diplomat—but at his core, he is a reformer. Born into politics but shaped by the private sector, he did not enter government as a careerist but as a problem-solver. Before politics, he ran an energy consultancy. He dealt with oil executives and regulators. He saw how Nigeria’s economy groaned under inefficiency, and how policy failures weren’t abstractions—they were missed paychecks, stalled projects, broken lives.

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When Tuggar entered Nigeria’s House of Representatives in 2007, he brought that private-sector urgency with him. Again, unlike many legislators in his time, he was not just there to warm a seat. He tackled public procurement reform—unglamorous, technical, bureaucratic—but foundational. Under a People’s Democratic Party-led government where contracts often served political patronage, he demanded merit. Under his leadership, the National Council on Public Procurement was born—an institution designed to outlive any one administration. He understood something too many politicians overlook: that good governance is not about slogans; it is all about systems.

Then he pivoted again—from parliament to diplomacy. In 2017, as Nigeria’s Ambassador to Germany, Tuggar took his reformist zeal abroad. There, he was not just attending fancy dinners and cutting ribbons. He was fighting for the return of the Benin Bronzes—22 priceless artefacts looted during colonialism, returned to Nigeria through his persistent negotiations. In that battle over stolen art, he pivoted again from being a diplomat into becoming a cultural advocate, reclaiming history on behalf of a continent, a country and a culture that is too often told to forget.

Leadership is often framed in national terms: American, Chinese, Nigerian. But the problems that matter—unemployment, corruption, youth despair, climate insecurity—are post-border. Tuggar’s career reads like a case study in global-local leadership. He has worked the angles of both worlds. He’s as comfortable speaking with foreign ministers as he is with Bauchi traders.

And Bauchi, it turns out, is the ultimate test.
A state rich in history and human capital, yet hobbled by poor infrastructure, youth unemployment, and governance gaps, Bauchi represents both the challenge and opportunity of modern development. The statistics are stark: more than two-thirds of its population live in multidimensional poverty. Young people migrate in droves. Firewood is still the main cooking fuel. These are not just technical issues—they are a referendum on misgovernance.

Tuggar doesn’t just understand these problems. He’s lived them, studied them, and tried to fix them. In parliament, he pushed for a Local Content Bill to increase Nigerian participation in the oil sector. As a columnist and commentator, he criticized policy failures when it was unpopular to do so. As foreign minister today, under the leadership of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, he is helping Nigeria recalibrate its global posture—balancing African alliances with principled stands on world affairs.

But it is what he might do next that is most interesting.

There is a growing speculation that Tuggar may return to where it all began: his home state of Bauchi. And it is here that his career, in many ways, comes full circle. Because the question Bauchi is asking is the same question facing many parts of the world: Can good governance actually work at the state level?

Tuggar, with his rare combination of competence, credibility, and global savvy, has shown that it can. He knows how to build institutions. He understands how to attract investment. He speaks the language of youth entrepreneurship, of vocational skills, of practical development. He knows, crucially, that reform is not just another event, or another press release, or another announcement —it is a process that is built on systems.

And he brings something else that is rare in today’s politics: moral clarity. When he challenged entrenched interests for the Bauchi governorship in 2011, he did it knowing that he would likely lose. When he closed the Nigerian Embassy in Berlin during COVID-19, he did it to protect staff, not to score political points. When he pushed for reforms in procurement, livestock transport, and oil policy, he did it because he believed it mattered.

Tuggar represents a quieter, more deliberate kind of leadership. The kind that believes competence is radical. The kind that believes the future is earned through policy, not just promise.

Right now, in a period of rapid development at the national level under the Tinubu administration, the people of Bauchi State have started asking the right questions. How do we put more food on our tables to feed our families? How do we keep our streets safer? How do we make sure our young people don’t have to leave home to find hope? These are not questions for ideologues. They are questions for builders—for leaders who understand that progress does not come from loud speeches or recycled promises. It comes from reform-minded leaders who know how the world works, who see the big picture, but never lose sight of their own people. Yes, right now, Bauchi State does not need further theatrics. It needs a governor who listens, learns, and delivers.

Yusuf Tuggar does not try to trend on Twitter. He also does not chase headlines. But in a Bauchi State where the distance between what leaders promise and what people live is measured in lost opportunities, that might be exactly the point. In a moment when the people of Bauchi are exhausted by the noise of the current administration and craving results, Tuggar’s quiet, steady style of leadership offers something rare: the sense that competence still matters, that integrity is not old-fashioned, and that a leader can represent Bauchi with dignity—without needing to shout to be heard.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s the kind of leadership Bauchi has been waiting for all along.

~ Malam Uba Nana is the Director General of the Tuggar Foundation and former APC Chairman, Bauchi State.