After the main opposition People’s Democratic Party (PDP) announced last week that it would zone the presidency to the South in 2027, some names have been widely mentioned as possible frontrunners.
Former President Goodluck Jonathan and the Labour Party’s presidential flagbearer in the last election, Peter Obi, are perhaps the two most serious contenders.
With Obi confused and trapped by his volatile “Obidient” base, Jonathan has been framed as the more viable option, but. The “but,” widely considered to be potentially Jonathan’s biggest obstacle, is a legal risk that the courts might overturn his candidature because of a constitutional amendment (after he left office in 2015), which bars him – or anyone twice sworn in – from retaking the oath of office.
Keyamo’s free advice
The PDP and a relative of the former president, suspected of speaking for him, have told the Aviation Minister, Festus Keyamo, SAN, and rights activist, Chidi Odinkalu, who are among the most recent to flag this risk, to mind their business. While it would seem foolish for political parties to intentionally walk into a legal landmine (though the PDP could because common sense is not one of its virtues), the legal risk to Jonathan may not be the most dangerous. The real danger is not far-fetched: our short memory.
This is why Jonathan looks like a viable option and is now beginning to think of himself as one. Our short memory is why politicians take us for a ride. Jonathan must be pinching himself, surprised that his name is coming up at all.
Not that he cannot throw his hat in the ring, damning any legal consequences. Or because 10 years after he left office, life seems better retrospectively than it was. Whatever anyone might say, when Jonathan looks in the mirror, his incompetent five-year record looks back and responds with the question, Can this be true? The former president cannot believe his good luck.
Chased out
He was chased out of office. The immediate trigger was insecurity. At the height of the Boko Haram insurgency under Jonathan, terrorists invaded schools, kidnapped students and bombed markets, motor parks, places of worship, and military installations. They even attacked the UN building in Abuja, forcing the Presidency to barricade itself and many public offices behind huge boulders, turning Abuja into a concrete jungle.
At some point, it was reported that swathes of Northeastern Nigeria, roughly the size of Belgium, were under the firm control of Boko Haram. Jonathan’s response, especially after the kidnapping of the Chibok girls, was both confused and genuinely pathetic. He was out of favour with the West, especially the US, which suspended the supply of military hardware on allegations of corruption and human rights abuse by the army’s top brass.
Enemies within
But his biggest headache was inside. Out of frustration, he once said that he believed elements in his government were working for the insurgents. Or perhaps they were working for themselves and the insurgents, as an investigation of monies released through the office of the National Security Adviser at the time would later show that $2.4 billion was unaccounted for.
Whether Jonathan was right or wrong on that, his enemies in plain sight were members of his own house – the party chairman, Adamu Mu’azu and other stalwarts, especially from the North, who felt betrayed that, contrary to an “understanding” that he would have one term after Yar’Adua’s death, Jonathan was preparing to run for office again.
Since all political affiliations are opportunistic, the people who betrayed him want him to run again. Perhaps the former president has found the talisman to avenge himself. Whatever has renewed his confidence, his biggest bet is that a) we would accept the excuse that he was not responsible for his disastrous tenure, and b) with the indulgence of hindsight, we are worse off today than we were under him.
A chastening legacy
He is wrong on both. The legacy of tackling terror and its various franchises – from kidnapping to banditry – by appeasement or indulgence was a pastime of the Jonathan administration. His government turned a blind eye to militants in the Niger Delta, whose criminality the government treated as a counterbalance to violent extremism in the North. Consequently, while lives were being lost upcountry, Nigeria lost billions of dollars in revenue down south. A NEITI report said Nigeria lost about 268 million barrels of crude oil between 2009 and 2015 due to oil theft and pipeline vandalism. The cost in 2013 alone was $8 billion.
Remember that crude oil production under Jonathan was relatively high, reaching about 2.29 million bpd, despite theft and sabotage, while, despite volatility, the price also remained high. At one time, oil sold at $120 per barrel.
What happened to the money? There were frequent and prolonged strikes by lecturers over poor funding, while hospitals were starved of medicines and basic equipment. States struggled to pay wages and owed for months, and pensioners, as always, were among the worst hit.
But that’s not what we’d like to remember. Instead, we’d like to remember that the naira exchanged for 197/$, and after rebasing, Nigeria’s economy was the largest in Africa, even though the foreign reserves that stood at $40 billion in May 2010 when he became president soon dropped to $29.6 billion when he left office.
Cost of a presidency
At what cost? For five years under Jonathan, an estimated N3.9 trillion was spent on fuel subsidies, a great deal of which disappeared (some in dollars) under the long caps of national assembly members, the fancy wardrobes of a minister of petroleum resources, or the debauchery of a new bowler-hat-wearing middle class permanently camped at Transcorp Hilton, where elite vanity was on stilts.
Attempts to reform the power sector under Jonathan were mainly scams. Fake investors paid for government assets with hollow promissory notes or whatever the currency of cronyism could afford them. The deals were even sweetened by a government disbursement of N213 billion to buyers to complete the scandalous transactions. We are still paying the price today with insolvent power distribution companies claiming that the government owes them about N4 trillion!
Romanticising the past
In hard, difficult times, every straw looks like a lifesaver. The sudden removal of petrol subsidy, followed almost immediately by the merger of the exchange rate by President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s government, has taken a toll on households, evoking memories of a romantic past in many circles, often measured by the price of rice.
But we are where we are mainly due to decades of kicking the can down the road. Sadly, politicians who have been kicking us – with the can – down the road are not only complaining the loudest, they are determined to exploit our misery and short memory for their benefit. Jonathan is their tribe. And whatever the courts say, we shouldn’t forget that.
