By Mogaji Wole Arisekola
A coup against President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, if true, would not just be a mistake — it would be a disaster of historic proportions. Nigeria has walked this bloody path before, and every time we tried to rebuild, we paid in tears, in blood, and in broken dreams. Those who think a coup is a shortcut to justice do not understand the price of chaos. They have forgotten that when the gun replaces the ballot, the nation itself becomes a hostage.
Since 1966, every coup in Nigeria has left deep wounds — wounds that never fully healed. From Major Nzeogwu’s fiery sermon in Kaduna to Buhari’s midnight knock of 1983, power seized by force has never delivered peace, only prolonged pain. “Bí a bá jí òwúrọ̀ ká máa rántí àná,” the elders say — when we awaken in the morning, we must remember yesterday. Those who ignore history are doomed to relive it.
History has not been kind to the Yoruba political class. Chief Obafemi Awolowo, the father of progressive politics, was jailed by the very country he sought to serve. Chief S.L. Akintola was gunned down in the chaos of betrayal. Chief Bola Ige was murdered in cold blood. Chief M.K.O. Abiola, the symbol of democracy, died in captivity. And now, there are whispers and shadows again — people determined to undermine another Yoruba son, President Tinubu, under the pretense of “saving Nigeria.”
But what exactly are they saving us from? The ballot box? The Constitution? Democracy itself? Let us be honest — those who cannot wait till 2031 are not fighting for the people; they are fighting for their pockets. They seek to rewrite destiny with bullets instead of ballots. Yet “Opẹ̀ tó Olorun da, kò gba fìfí ọwọ́ kàn,” — the palm tree destined to stand tall cannot be bent by mere human hands.
True Awoists, true nationalists, and true patriots stand with Tinubu not because he is perfect, but because they understand the greater danger of instability. They know that tearing down democracy is like burning your father’s house to kill a rat — foolish, self-destructive, and irreparable. Nigeria’s unity, fragile as it may seem, rests upon the delicate balance of trust among its peoples. Break that trust, and the country may never heal again.
Tinubu is my brother and a Yoruba man. That alone is enough for many of us to defend him — morally, politically, and historically. “Àjànàkú kọ́ já mo rí nkan fìri; bí a bá rí erin, ká ní a rí erin,” — when one encounters a giant, one must call it what it is. Whether one likes him or not, Tinubu is a political giant — the first Yoruba man to sit on the nation’s highest seat through democratic struggle. Criticise him if you must, but to destroy him is to destroy a part of Yoruba history itself.
Those who conspire with outsiders to unseat him should remember how easily history forgets traitors but never forgives them. Did we not learn from the Western Region crisis of the 1960s, when brothers turned against brothers, and the region burned for years? Betrayal, once unleashed, does not stop where it begins. “Ẹni tó bá ta ilé baba rẹ̀ nítorí owó, kò ní níbi tí yóó gbé jó nigba ojo,” — he who sells his father’s house for money will have no place to dance when the rain comes.
Nigeria must not walk backwards into darkness. The path of the coup is the path of sorrow. The path of democracy, though slow and imperfect, is the only road that leads to lasting peace. Our ancestors warned that “ìbínú kìí dá’ṣepọ̀,” — anger never builds a nation. We must choose patience, dialogue, and constitutional reform over reckless ambition.
Let every true son and daughter of the soil rise with one voice and say: “ Awa le ẹ̀yìn Tinubu!” — we stand firmly behind Tinubu! For if Nigeria burns again, there will be no victor, only victims.
The lesson of history is simple but sacred: power seized through violence never lasts. Let wisdom guide us where anger fails, and let our nation rise, not fall, under the weight of its own impatience.
Mogaji Wole Arisekola writes from Ibadan.
