Nigeria’s Political Avengers and the Rise and Rust of PDP

By Nuru “Regardless” Nyaku

Please permit me to offer an apology in advance. This may read as a bit disjointed, but that’s only because it was written with the kind of passion that refuses to sit in neat paragraphs. I can only hope that in the seeming chaos, readers will find some order. Now, the G-34 can be viewed as Nigeria’s version of the Avengers, assembling in 1998 not to save the world from aliens, but to confront the dictatorship of military rule. Their audacious stand eventually birthed the People’s Democratic Party (PDP), which would go on to become, arguably, the most powerful political dynasty in Nigerian history (and yes, calling it a “party” somewhat dilutes the magnitude of its impact).

Now, why do I call the PDP the most powerful? Simple: it didn’t just succeed a military regime, it ruled Nigeria for 16 uninterrupted years (1999–2015). That is four full election cycles, three different presidents, and countless rounds of power tussles, backroom deals, and obviously, a surge in the umbrella market. Compare that to the current heavyweight, the All Progressives Congress (APC), which has chalked up a commendable 10 years in power since 2015, but with only two presidents, both of whom arguably carried the party more than the party carried them.

The PDP, by contrast, wasn’t built on the backs of towering personalities alone; it constructed a formidable party structure capable of lifting even political underdogs into Aso Rock. From Olusegun Obasanjo to Umaru Musa Yar’Adua, and then Goodluck Jonathan, it was the machine, not just the man, that won elections. So, the G-34 lit the flame, but the PDP turned it into a roaring bonfire that defined and shaped Nigeria’s Fourth Republic. And in many ways, PDP still casts a long shadow over Nigerian politics today, because let’s face it, there is no political party standing today that wasn’t either refurbished, upgraded, or outright maintained using spare parts stripped from the once-mighty PDP.

PDP, as formidable as it stood, has been pilfered to the sorry state that it stands today and I feel pity for the ruling party that is celebrating the demise of PDP. APC have given the chance to 2 people who felt it was their turn, one because he tried three times and the fourth was the charm, and the other because he felt a kingmaker deserves his turn. It is still left to be seen if APC can survive what PDP has endured, albeit that it will not survive this time around.

I speak of the erosion of PDP strictly from the perspective of the founding members that are still in the party.

Among the G-34, several eminent patriots have passed on. These include Dr Alex Ekwueme, Chief Solomon Lar, Chief Bola Ige, Alhaji Abubakar Rimi, Chief Tony Anenih, Alhaji Adamu Ciroma, Chief Sunday Awoniyi, Dr Abubakar Olusola Saraki, and Alhaji Abubakar DanMusa. I believe Dr Jibril Aminu, who passed in June, is the most recent addition to this list. Of those still alive, many have either decamped to other political parties or chosen the path of quiet political retirement. Chief Audu Ogbeh defected to the APC and even served as a minister under President Muhammadu Buhari, a move echoed by Barnabas Gemade. Though there’s no public record of Dr Ahmadu Ali leaving the PDP, his wife, Mariam Ali, joined the APC in 2017. Professor Ango Abdullahi may be politically retired, but his son contested under the PDP banner in 2023 and now serves in the House of Representatives.

Dr Iyorchia Ayu’s exit from the party’s chairmanship was anything but graceful, toppled by a group who, back in his G-34 days, had dreams not a tad higher than local government politics. Professor Jerry Gana, once a presidential aspirant under the SDP, has receded into the background of active partisan engagement. The likes of Bamanga Tukur, Professor Iya Abubakar, and Jim Nwobodo have largely bowed out of political life, perhaps due to age, disinterest, or both. One figure who deserves special mention is High Chief Tom Ikimi, a political architect (pun intended) involved in the formation of multiple parties, from PDP to APP, ACD, AC, and even the APC, though he walked away from active politics in 2014. Sule Lamido, after Jonathan’s failed re-election, went largely silent but has since resurfaced as part of the present coalition, reportedly merging into the ADC.

Some members of the G-34 remain politically ambiguous, Alhaji Aminu Wali, Alhaji Bello Kirfi, Isyaku Ibrahim, Alhaji Sani Zangon Daura, Alhaji Sulaiman Kumo, Dr Walid Jibril, and Alhaji Yahaya Kwande have kept relatively low profiles. Beyond the original 34, however, there were other influential hands that helped shape the PDP. Chief among them were General Ibrahim Babangida, General Aliyu Mohammed Gusau, General Theophilus Yakubu Danjuma, and, of course, General Olusegun Obasanjo. Would you believe me if I told you that the “General” in all their titles is not a coincidence? I wouldn’t have believed me either if I wasn’t present when I was writing it.

Obasanjo, with the support of the trio, went on to become the first president produced by the PDP. Together, they wielded tremendous influence within the party until, right before our eyes, Obasanjo famously tore his membership card to shreds, and no one dared to accuse him of littering. While OBJ has remained quite vocal in Nigeria’s political landscape, and TY Danjuma has found the PDP’s platform sufficient to anoint incoming governors in his home state of Taraba, it would be interesting to know where they now stand; with a PDP running on battery low, the ruling party, or perhaps the “sabon tafiya.”

The most active, and I dare say the most loyal (albeit with periodic exits and re-entries), would be Atiku Abubakar. He served as Vice President under the PDP from 1999 to 2007, exited the party to contest the 2007 presidential election against it, returned to challenge Goodluck Jonathan in the primaries, exited again and became a founding member of the APC, then returned to the PDP and emerged as its presidential candidate in both 2019 and 2023. Now, he has reportedly declared his affiliation with the coalition enveloped by the ADC.

Despite the calibre of statesmen who forged it in the furnace of military rule, the seeming demise of the PDP is both tragic and telling. For those in the current ruling party, particularly the historically myopic ones now swelling with arrogance as they dance on the PDP’s political grave, it is worth urging caution, not celebration. I may be compelled to discuss what (or who?) assassinated the party someday, but PDP was no fluke; it was a product of resistance, national consensus, and sheer political architecture.

APC, by contrast, was baked in the political bakery of those who were either not fed or not fed well by the PDP. And if PDP, with all its formidable structure and dominance, could be toppled after 16 unbroken years, APC ought to be deeply wary of its own mortality. As for the emerging coalition, they must realise that they are kneaded from the same flour as APC, ambition-heavy and ideology-light. Unless they re-strategise, tame their egos, and prioritise building the party before claiming its banner, they risk being burnt in the same oven whose temperature APC understands all too well. Ultimately, if we truly care for this country, we should not dismiss PDP’s death too lightly, not because of its sins, but because of what it once symbolised, and what it still could. Call it Stockholm syndrome if you must, but even in disappointment, one must mourn the fall of a pillar.