2027 Jonathan comeback talk ‘brews crisis’, Wike warns
By: Abudu Olalekan
Night-time TV, harsh studio lights, one blunt guest. That was Thursday. Nyesom Wike, now lord of Abuja’s boulevards, faced the Politics Today cameras and—without clearing his throat—fired a broadside at folks begging ex-president Goodluck Jonathan to run again in 2027. “They’re stoking trouble,” he snapped. No fancy euphemism. Just trouble.
He knows the playbook. In 2015 the same choir fled when Jonathan’s re-election bid began to sink. Eight years later they’re humming a new chorus, promising him an easy, single-term ride. Wike raises a brow. “One term, my foot. That’s a ticking bomb for the country,” he barked. Slight pause. “The man already built a global brand. Why drag him back into mud fights?”
His irritation isn’t only about loyalty. It’s also maths. Nigeria’s wobbly power-sharing code—north then south, Muslim then Christian—still matters in smoky political rooms. Pushing a southern candidate so soon after Bola Tinubu, he argues, feels like shifting the goalposts mid-match. It may look like clever strategy on social media; on the ground it could light new fires.
Wike slides into economics next. “Hardship? Yes, it’s biting,” he admits, voice softer. Petrol pricey, food cost climbing, patience thin. But he insists the presidency is making “tough, necessary calls” to reset the books. He points to cranes and graders on Abuja’s expressways as proof that something—anything—is moving. Not everyone buys it, yet the minister’s confidence seems unshaken.
Cue former Vice-President Atiku Abubakar, whose recent speeches warn of ‘revolution’ if hunger persists. Wike waves them off with a chuckle. “He had eight years to block that hunger pipeline. Did he? Now he’s preaching doom. I skip his press releases these days,” he shrugs, leaning back like a man finished with the topic.
Still, backstage lobbying refuses to slow. Governor Bala Mohammed of Bauchi let slip in August that the PDP, still licking 2023 wounds, might dangle its 2027 ticket before Jonathan—or maybe Peter Obi. Jonathan, Mohammed gushed, remains “one of the most celebrated politicians in Nigeria.” Open arms everywhere, apparently, if the former president decides to walk back through the party gate he once locked behind him.
Wike views that pitch as bait—sweet on the surface, barbed underneath. “Celebrated? Sure. But they want him for one job only: patch a divided party, win an election, then exit quietly. Life doesn’t work like that,” he says. He almost sighs, then fires a last warning shot: “Anybody selling that dream is honestly selling chaos.”
Behind the camera, aides tap phones. Social timelines already boiling: #BringBackGEJ vs #LeaveGEJAlone. One meme shows Jonathan lounging on a beach, phone on silent. Another paints him wearing gloves, ready for round two. The internet, ever playful, ignores constitutional headaches and zoning puzzles.
On the streets of Yenagoa, Jonathan’s Bayelsa hometown, reactions split. A fisherman at Swali market nods, “Let him rest, abeg.” A hair-braider across the stall brightens, “If he runs, we vote,” she says, twisting extensions with new energy. Contradictions everywhere, typical Nigerian rhythm.
What does Jonathan himself think? Silence. Since leaving Aso Rock he rotates quietly between global election-monitor gigs and local philanthropy. Each airport sighting sparks fresh rumors, yet he offers no hints. Maybe the silence is strategic. Maybe he’s genuinely done with ballot boxes. Only he knows.
Wike, meanwhile, returns to Abuja traffic, sirens clearing lanes as dusk settles. He has his own turf wars—the federal capital is a hungry beast—but Thursday night he chose to police the national chessboard too. For him, the message is plain: don’t gamble with fragile peace by dangling a one-term carrot in front of a former president who already wrote his chapter.
Politics, though, hates vacuum. Party grandees will keep whispering. Think-tanks will crunch numbers. Citizens, nursing grocery-store shock, will weigh nostalgia against present pains. 2027 still feels far, yet in Nigeria campaigns start long before calendars signal go.
So, watch Jonathan’s body language at the next public lecture. Track Wike’s next TV outburst. Listen when PDP elders meet behind hotel curtains. The plot is young, the actors seasoned, and the audience—millions of anxious voters—wide awake
