By Abimbola Adelakun
The Defence Headquarters officially disproved the story of a planned coup in Nigeria, but that has not made it any less believable. The cancellation of Independence Day activities to opt for a “low-key” celebration, which excuses the President from appearing in public, suggests that the media reports might be on to something. Refuting the report, the Defence Headquarters issued a statement describing the media reports as “false and misleading”. They noted that the arrest of 16 officers had nothing to do with a coup but was instead “a routine internal process aimed at ensuring discipline and professionalism is maintained within the ranks”. They have promised to release the report of their panel’s investigation, but whatever it says will likely be an anti-climax.
Even if the arrested officers were sentenced or dismissed for planning a coup, the official report is unlikely to state the actual reason. Ours is a country where institutions operate in secrecy, and a lack of transparency surely adds an enigma to processes that should otherwise be straightforward. It is, therefore, unlikely that we will ever know the whole truth of this coup matter, especially from official sources. What we will have to work with will be the snippets of news that seep out from the grasp of official information keepers. In any case, they have good reasons to hide the truth if a coup was truly planned. To admit that some people were planning a coup but failed is to inspire others who will be more discreet in their efforts and might go further. Also, acknowledging that some officers attempted a coup would be highly imprudent of the present government. It would mean admitting that all is not well in the house of the commander-in-chief, and he does not have a grip on the military as one would expect. With all the coups taking place in Africa (Madagascar being the most recent), the Presidency cannot afford to show vulnerability.
Yet, the development made me wonder: if a coup were to happen in Nigeria today, what would happen? Who are the people who will go out and confront the soldiers to fight for democracy? Some Nigerians on Twitter can sit behind their screens and tweet the usual cute nostrums about how the worst democratic rule is still preferable to military rule, but if it ever happens that our democratic leaders get ousted by coupists, will they go and fight to defend democracy? I seriously doubt it. How many of us will risk our lives so that the present lopsided arrangement that preponderantly benefits decadent politicians and their scions can be retained? It is not a matter of cowardice; successive Nigerian leaders have not done enough to convince the generation that fought and attained this democracy in 1999 that it will be worth fighting for all over again. The country has given many people little to lose, turning them to cynics rather than believers in the national project. It will likely take another generation to emerge and begin pushing for a return to democracy.
Nobody should need a crystal ball to predict that the spectacle of our morally corrupt leaders being dragged on the streets in their agbada will be greeted with more cheers and applause than horror from the impoverished masses. Rather than anguish, there will be lots of approvals and schadenfreude at the sight of our oppressive leaders finally getting a taste of the same indignity to which they subject the citizenry. Even our leaders themselves will not fight for their mandate; they are not that principled. At the first sign of trouble, they are hopping on their private jets with their families and running to the lush mansions they have prepared for themselves abroad. Even the Yoruba partisans who spend a significant amount of time beating us on the head with why we must support “our brother Tinubu” so that our region can retain power will not risk their lives. If history is anything to go by, they will be the first in Aso Rock genuflecting before the new leaders. They will be closely followed by the National Association of Nigerian Students members.
Yes, the same NANS that used to be a serious organisation for young people to hone their civic skills, but which is now so seriously debased that it is incapable of recognising any ideal, let alone fighting for one. They will not even need any pressure to cave. Substituting one set of decadent leaders for another is second nature for them.
Other Nigerian youths attending various tertiary institutions where they ration electricity, and water will not be so motivated to go into the streets and face bullets to save a socio-political order where politicians rob the future of millions of Nigerians to give their own children world-class education abroad. Why should you fight just so that their brats can return to Twitter and display their father’s loot?
Even the old class of the pro-democracy activists will respect themselves and sit quietly. Who will they even summon to follow them into the streets and begin to sing “aluta” songs in the noonday sunshine? Some among them who earned their bona fides fighting against oppressive military powers now sit pretty with oppressive civilian rulers, oblivious to the parody they have become. Some are now at the highest echelons of power, and they have had no qualms doing exactly the same things for which they supposedly fought psychopathic tyrants like Sani Abacha. What pleasant vision of a better democratic future can they possibly offer to motivate anyone to fight for democracy all over again? We have lived through military rule; we are living through civilian rule. The difference is marginal.
We have had 26 unbroken years of democracy, but what have we gained? The long years of civil rule are littered with shards of broken promises and a fractured national spirit. What subsists in Nigeria today makes the frivolous and wasteful years of Okotie-Eboh look tame. Our crop of leaders is comprised of clueless, corrupt, mediocre, and inhumane individuals. Looking at Nigeria in 2025, I understand the depth of despair that pushed people in past decades to rush out of their houses to welcome military tanks. Maybe they were not so naive as to expect that their conditions would be any better, but they at least saw in the military a chance to end a ruling order that had made itself too impregnable to be reined in through the tools of democracy. In theory, democracy empowers people to change their leaders, as one is supposed to control one’s destiny, but reality is more complicated. What Nigerian democracy asks of us is to continue contributing to motions that simply legitimise a predetermined end. So, why exactly should people want such an arrangement sustained when an opportunity to end the interminable order presents itself?
Nigerian leaders are jittery about the prospect of a coup (Bayo Onanuga once fought a newspaper over a cartoon), but that has hardly motivated them to push for a Nigeria where people are invested in the political order enough to want to fight for it. Rather than blackmailing people by painting a picture of a terrifying fate that awaits us if democracy succumbs to the military, the question should be, who has benefited from this arrangement enough to want it sustained? Stop telling us what we have to lose if we lose democracy; show us a better life, and we will be motivated to defend democracy on our own.
