Nigeria has seen its fair share of strongmen, but President Bola Tinubu is crafting a legacy that would make even the ghost of General Sani Abacha pause in admiration—perhaps even take notes. Not that we’re saying they’re the same—oh no! One wore boots and a beret, the other swaggers in agbada and tinted glasses. One barked orders like a drill sergeant, the other coos reassurances while kneecapping the economy. A subtle difference, but a difference nonetheless.
Take Rivers State, for example. Abacha would have rolled in tanks, locked up opposition, and declared “case closed.” Tinubu? Baba just made a few calls, shuffled a few pawns, and just like that—opposition neutralized, democracy “rescued.” No need for raw force when soft oppression works just as well. And if anybody shouts too much, well, there’s always EFCC or an unexpected tax audit to humble them.
And then, our ever-loyal media. In Abacha’s day, Decree No. 4 sent journalists straight to prison. These days, no need for handcuffs—just let inflation choke them first. Who needs to censor the press when their printing machines can’t afford diesel? Who needs to ban TV stations when journalists are busy chasing unpaid salaries? But when state-owned media sings your praises on a 24/7 loop, what’s your concern?
The economy? Ah, now we’re talking. Abacha, bless his cold, iron-fisted heart, just dipped hands directly into the treasury and wired billions overseas. But Tinubu, our own Bourdillon Machiavelli, is more refined. Remove fuel subsidies, let inflation spiral like Davido hyping a crowd, and soon the people will be too busy surviving to protest. Call it economic warfare, but make it look like reform. And when the country screams, just throw in a few palliatives—some bags of rice, a few cash transfers—enough to keep the noise down, but never enough to change the story.
Security? In the 90s, people feared the government. These days, people fear everything: bandits, terrorists, police extortion, the price of rice, the possibility of waking up and discovering a new tax deduction on their salary. At least under Abacha, you knew your enemies. Under Tinubu, you never know whether your neighbor is the next government snitch.
Of course, some will say, “But Tinubu is not as brutal as Abacha.” And to that, we say: Who needs brutality when you can simply drain the people’s energy with frustration? Abacha used guns. Tinubu uses hardship. Different weapons, same result—submission.
So yes, Bola Ahmed Tinubu is Sani Abacha without the khaki. But who needs military fatigues when you have agbada, a loyal media choir, and a political system so rigged it could make a Nollywood script look subtle? This is democracy, Nigerian style—where elections are performative, the people are decorative, and power is eternal.
And as always, Nigerians will adapt. Because in this country, survival isn’t just an instinct—it’s a national sport.
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