By AMECHI.P, Political Columnist
In the shadowy corridors of Nigerian politics, where loyalty is a currency and betrayal a tool, whispers of President Bola Tinubu’s latest maneuver have begun to echo.
The rumor mill churns with tales that Tinubu has clandestinely ousted Mahmoud Yakubu, the embattled Chairman of the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC), replacing him with a loyal kin—perhaps a figurative “brother” from his Yoruba stronghold.
If true, this move is not just a reshuffling of pawns; it’s a masterstroke in a chess game designed to cement his grip on power ahead of 2027. And the next phase of this alleged plot? Scatter the opposition by planting moles as contenders, ensuring that any threat to his throne is a mirage of his own making.
Let’s peel back the layers of this supposed strategy, for it reeks of the kind of political cunning Tinubu has long been accused of wielding. Yakubu, a figure whose tenure at INEC has been marred by allegations of corruption and electoral malpractice—most notably during the 2023 elections—would seem an inconvenient ally to keep.
His removal, if it has indeed happened under the cover of secrecy, signals Tinubu’s intolerance for loose ends. A man who has weathered storms of criticism over drug trafficking allegations, a $460,000 forfeiture in the U.S., and the contentious 25% FCT vote debate doesn’t survive by leaving liabilities in play.
Replacing Yakubu with a trusted confidant—someone bound by blood or regional loyalty—would ensure the electoral machinery bends to Tinubu’s will, no questions asked.
But the real genius, if one can call it that, lies in what comes next. Scattering political parties by embedding moles as contenders is a tactic as old as power itself, yet Tinubu’s execution could elevate it to an art form. Imagine opposition ranks infiltrated by faux hopefuls—charismatic pretenders who rally the masses, only to falter at the eleventh hour or siphon votes to Tinubu’s advantage.
It’s a divide-and-conquer playbook ripped straight from the annals of Machiavellian strategy, tailored to Nigeria’s chaotic political landscape. The PDP, Labour Party, and smaller factions, already fractured by internal squabbles, would find themselves chasing shadows, unable to unite against a foe who’s puppeteering their every move.
This isn’t just crooked; it’s diabolically so. Tinubu’s political career has been a testament to his ability to outmaneuver rivals, from his days as Lagos governor to his ascent to the presidency.
His critics call it corruption; his allies call it brilliance. Whatever the label, the pattern is clear: control the narrative, neutralize the threats, and let no institution—be it INEC or the opposition—stand independent of his influence. The secrecy of Yakubu’s alleged removal only amplifies the suspicion. Why hide it if not to buy time to rig the system before the public catches wind?
Of course, these are still whispers, not facts. The Presidency and INEC have denied such a shake-up, and Yakubu was spotted presiding over a routine meeting just days ago. But in Nigeria, where truth often lags behind rumor, the mere suggestion of this plot speaks volumes about the distrust Tinubu inspires.
His administration, already battered by economic woes and accusations of misgovernance, doesn’t need hard evidence to fuel the perception of crookedness—perception alone is enough to
