Buhari, the Man with Organic Loyalists

Buhari, the Man with Organic Loyalists

By JOEL OLADELE, Abuja 

When news broke on July 13 of the passing of former President Muhammadu Buhari, Nigeria lost not just a statesman, but an enigma whose political journey defied the norms of a transactional democracy.

Amid the flood of tributes and critiques, one fact remains unshaken: Buhari was a man whose loyalists were never bought, they were earned. And that is a rarity in Nigeria’s political terrain.

In a country where political allegiance is often tied to the stomach, fed by contracts, brown envelopes, and token patronage, Buhari stood apart.

He wasn’t Nigeria’s smoothest talker, he didn’t wine and dine with elites to curry favour, he wasn’t the kind to dance in public squares or rain crisp naira notes on crowds. Yet, election after election, from 2003 through 2015, he  consistently pulled millions of votes from the same grassroots soil.

How?

Buhari’s political magic wasn’t built in the banquet halls of Abuja but in the dusty, sunburned streets of Daura, Kano, Bauchi, among others, where people saw in him not perfection, but purity of purpose. He inspired belief.

In an era where most politicians need to “settle” their way to the ballot box, Buhari drew strength from those who had nothing, gave them nothing, yet still received everything; their votes, their trust, and their unshaken loyalty.

It is staggering to note: 12 million votes. Not once, not twice but three times.

Long before he became president in 2015, Buhari had already created the kind of followership that most politicians can only dream of. A crowd that chanted his name with tears in their eyes and dust in their throats, not because they were promised riches, but because they believed he represented something better. Something cleaner.

You cannot manufacture that kind of loyalty. You can’t script it! You can’t buy it! It is organic! And it is powerful!

Some called them fanatics, others said they were blind but in truth, they were believers, not in a flawless man, but in a symbol. In Buhari, they saw discipline and incorruptibility. They saw a man who once ruled as military head of state with iron and integrity, who jailed the corrupt, curbed excesses, and dared to instill sanity in a society addicted to impunity. He was feared, yes. But more importantly, he was trusted.

This is not to whitewash his record. Nigerians undeniably saw hard times under his democratic tenure. “Shege banzai,” as the street slang goes, became a lived experience for many. Inflation soared, insecurity festered, expectations were unmet and yet, the Buhari faithful endured, not because they were blind, but because their loyalty was not transactional.

Joseph Delaney once wrote, “None of us are either all good or all bad… but there comes a moment in each life when we take an important step, either toward the light or toward the dark.” Buhari had his failings. But in the heart of his loyalists, he walked toward the light, a moral compass in a country adrift in corruption and compromise.

His brand of politics, rooted in authenticity and conviction is a textbook for any aspiring leader. Politicians of today with their rented crowds and ephemeral applause should study the Buhari phenomenon. Loyalty earned through trust outlasts loyalty bought with coins. Real power comes not from how many you can pay, but how many believe in you when you have nothing left to offer.

Now he has taken his final bow. The General is gone. His most enduring legacy may not be policies or programs but people; the millions who stood by him, for him, and because of him. Not because of what he gave but because of who he was.

As I watched his body lowered into that shallow grave today, July 15, 2025, in his country home, Daura, Katsina State, I couldn’t hold back a few tears, not necessarily as someone who fully agreed with his leadership style. Like many Nigerians, I had hoped for more, but those tears flowed because we just lost a truly unique soul, one who showed the world that politics doesn’t have to revolve around wealth or patronage, but around vision, conviction and the hope you give to those who believe in you.

Even in death, the loyalists are still there as I saw some of them struggling to pay their last respect to the man in whom they are well pleased. The love is so much that they climbed trees around his house, just to catch a glimpse of his last moment. To me, this is an uncommon show of loyalty.

Rest well, Baba Buhari, as you are fondly called by some of us. The man who proved that in a land of mercenaries, real loyalty is still possible.

Joel Oladele is a journalist with close to two decades experience in both print and broadcast media. He writes from Abuja.

(08063138250, joel2oladele@gmail.com)