In the run-up to the October 1st Independence celebrations, Sahara Reporters leaked a story that a bloody coup aimed at destabilizing and overthrowing the democratic government of President Tinubu had been thwarted.
There is still no official confirmation of this to date, even though top service chiefs have been replaced and more than 40 officers have been arrested by the DSS, who allegedly had them under surveillance since August 2024.
Nigeria is a very different country from what it was in the 60s, 70s, and 80s, when anybody—presumably any disgruntled junior officer—could just pick up a gun, overthrow the incumbents, become Head of State, and start their dictatorship. Africa, and certainly Nigeria, have moved on from the Abachas and Idi Amins of the past.
A military junta coming into power would abolish all laws and rule by decree, turning governance into a matter of them shouting “jump” and the people asking, “how high?” Nigerians have long evolved beyond this, and it would only mobilize the population en masse to protest. As we have seen from previous mass movements, such as #ENDSARS, it is no longer easy to crush the will of the people. They are no longer afraid of a soldier with a gun. And with social media to pass the word around and keep everyone up to date—a medium even a junta cannot fully control or shut down, as demonstrated when the Buhari-led government attempted to ban Twitter—overall governmental control of the media is effectively impossible.
Nigerians have tasted the freedom of democracy, however imperfect it may be, and a return to a repressive military regime will not be welcomed. Citizens now have the right to elect their leaders instead of having someone imposed upon them.
For a military coup to succeed, the army would need to corral the population into a pen they can control. This might work in countries like Mali or Niger, where the entire population is smaller than that of Lagos State. In Nigeria, a country of over 200 million people, the military is already stretched thin fighting insurgencies in the North and South-East. A new military junta would not have the manpower or equipment to control the country successfully.
In Mali and Niger, armed forces removed democratically elected presidents and their governments on the grounds of absolute abuse of office. Some may argue that the same should happen in Nigeria.
While I am not a big fan of President Tinubu, it must be said that he has been in power for less than two years and inherited a mess from Buhari, who in turn inherited it from Jonathan—need I go back further? Logically, anyone coming into power, military or civilian, cannot change everything overnight, no matter how much the people desire it. Hardship will continue. For those old enough to remember when the Buhari/Idiagbon junta ousted Shehu Shagari in 1983, change did not happen overnight; it was gradual, and conditions were not as bad as they are now. A military junta today would merely huff and puff without accomplishing anything.
To make matters worse, the international community would be watching closely and could impose severe sanctions, crippling business transactions in and out of the country. If sanctions included an oil embargo or the calling in of all foreign loans, the nation could be devastated. Furthermore, ECOWAS, the African Union, and even the United States—under Trump or any future administration—might consider military intervention to forcibly remove the junta, because democracy cannot be allowed to fail in Nigeria, Africa’s most populous nation, as it has in Mali, Niger, and elsewhere. If life under Tinubu seems hard now, it would become unbearable under a junta.
In an earlier article (“Are Coups in Africa Still a Good Thing?”), I argued that if democracy is to work the African way, there should be mechanisms to remove inept or corrupt leaders—sometimes, the African way means a coup d’état. Without contradicting myself, leaders like the late Robert Mugabe needed a palace coup to remove them due to their systematic abuse of the democratic process. The same applies to autocratic regimes in Niger, Mali, and elsewhere. But the question remains: where do you draw the line?
Nigeria is still a fledgling democracy, in its infancy. Mistakes will be made, as they were in the early democracies of the Western world. We will stumble, but eventually, we will get it right—Rome was not built in a day. Allowing the boys in khaki back into power would send us back to square one, rendering the efforts of those who fought for modern Nigerian democracy, like MKO Abiola, meaningless.
The idea that a semi-illiterate, gun-toting army general could seize power and miraculously restore the country to its former glory overnight is simply unrealistic. It defies the law of averages.
