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Night falls differently in Nigeria now. In the cities, generators hum like angry bees while in the villages silence spreads like mourning cloth. A father whispers bedtime stories to hungry children, promising that tomorrow will be better, though he no longer believes it. Yet even in this silence a pulse of hope still beats, faint but faithful, because when despair becomes unbearable history always births its own deliverer.
I once watched an old man in Gombe stand before a crowd of jobless youths. His hands trembled not from age but from anger. They told us democracy would feed us, he said, but it only fed them. The crowd murmured not in rebellion but in recognition, and in that moment I saw in their eyes what philosophers call collective awakening, the hour when silence becomes heavier than speech.
Nigeria is bleeding not from lack of prayers but from the poverty of leadership. The ruling party has turned governance into gambling and destiny into a daily lottery. Every new policy feels like a loaded gun aimed at the poor. They tell us to tighten our belts while they loosen theirs. They call it sacrifice; we call it suffering.
But in this long night there walks a man who still believes in daylight. Atiku Abubakar is not the shout of a desperate crowd but the calm voice of conscience. His vision is not vengeance; it is vindication of justice. He stands not as a saint among sinners but as a servant among scavengers of power.
In every epoch truth wears the face of one man. For Rome it was Caesar, for America Lincoln, for South Africa Mandela, and for Nigeria that truth now bears the face of Atiku Abubakar, the man who sees politics not as conquest but as covenant.
A friend once asked me, Why Atiku again? I smiled and said, Because Nigeria has not yet healed. The disease that plagues us cannot be cured by those who infected us. You do not send the arsonist to quench the fire. The current government is not a government; it is a grammar of greed, a punctuation mark between promises and pain.
Atiku represents the second wind of the nation’s unfinished struggle, the continuation of what was betrayed in 1993, mocked in 2018, and desecrated in 2023. He comes not with vengeance but with vision, not with rhetoric but with resolve. His politics breathes the spirit of rebuilding, not replacing tyrants with tyrants but returning humanity to leadership.
Karl Marx once wrote that history repeats itself, first as tragedy, then as farce. Under this government Nigeria has lived both, tragedy in the lives of the poor, farce in the theatre of the powerful. But there comes a time when the oppressed no longer beg for bread; they demand justice. That time is now.
The woman by the roadside is still there, but this time she is not waiting. She has joined millions rising from despair to defiance, whispering a new prayer: let our votes become vengeance and our conscience become compass.
And when the wind of history finally blows through this broken nation, clearing the debris of deceit, one truth will stand like a lighthouse amid the storm, that Atiku Abubakar, the Waziri of Adamawa, was the moral rescue of a generation that almost lost its soul.
So let the rulers of today feast on their illusions. Tomorrow belongs to the redeemed, and redemption bears a familiar name.
Aare Amerijoye DOT.B
Director General,
The Narrative Force.
SB E-news.
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