By Luqman Awwal Agono
The All Progressives Congress (APC) may have entered the Osun governorship election believing it was fighting Governor Ademola Adeleke. In the end, however, it may have been fighting something far more difficult to defeat: public sympathy.
Adeleke’s victory was decisive. The Accord Party candidate polled 511,067 votes, defeating the APC candidate, Bola Oyebamiji, who scored 444,815 votes. Adeleke won 19 of the state’s 30 local government areas, securing another four years in office.
The result should not be reduced to dancing, celebrity appeal or the strength of the Adeleke family name. Those factors may have contributed to his popularity, but elections are rarely won on a single issue.
Sometimes, an opponent’s mistakes become a candidate’s most powerful campaign weapon.
That appears to have happened in Osun.
The APC had considerable advantages. It had the Federal Government behind it, a formidable political structure, influential national figures and a candidate it presented as experienced and technocratic. Yet, somewhere along the campaign trail, the party appeared to lose control of the narrative.
Instead of making the election principally about Adeleke’s record, the APC increasingly found itself defending the atmosphere surrounding its own campaign. And that may have been its biggest mistake.
EFCC CONTROVERSY
One of the major setbacks was the controversy surrounding the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission’s restriction on the accounts of the Osun State Government. The timing could hardly have been more politically sensitive.
The EFCC’s action came only days before the election and immediately became a campaign issue. Adeleke accused the commission of attempting to cripple his administration ahead of the poll, while the APC accused the state government of financial misconduct and called for investigations.
There may have been legitimate legal and investigative reasons for the EFCC’s action. But elections are not fought in courtrooms alone. They are fought in the court of public perception. And the perception created by the timing was politically damaging.
To Adeleke’s supporters, the development was easy to frame as an attempt by the Federal Government to weaken an opposition-controlled state immediately before an election. Once that narrative took hold, the APC had a difficult task convincing voters that the matter had nothing to do with the election.
Then came President Bola Tinubu’s intervention. The President directed that the restriction on the state’s account be lifted, a development that complicated the political optics even further. The questions practically wrote themselves: If the restriction was necessary, why was it reversed so close to the election? And if it was unnecessary, why was it imposed in the first place?
Those questions may have little bearing on the legal merits of the EFCC’s action, but politically, they were devastating. The APC had inadvertently handed Adeleke an opportunity to present himself as a governor under pressure from a powerful Federal Government.
For an incumbent seeking re-election, that is a valuable political narrative.
WHEN RELIGION ENTERED THE RACE
The second problem was religion. There is nothing inherently wrong with a politician consulting religious leaders or seeking their prayers and support. Oyebamiji did so, including meetings with Muslim leaders and organisations that publicly backed his candidacy.
The difficulty was the interpretation those engagements generated. Osun is a religiously diverse state with a long tradition of coexistence between Muslims and Christians. Any political campaign that appears to transform a governorship contest into a religious competition risks creating anxiety among voters.
The APC did not necessarily create all the religious narratives surrounding the election, but it did not appear to sufficiently control them either. That was a costly mistake. The election should have been dominated by questions about roads, schools, jobs, healthcare, security, infrastructure and the performance of the incumbent. Instead, religion became part of the conversation.
And once religion enters an election, rational arguments about policy can quickly become secondary. A candidate can lose votes not because voters oppose him personally, but because they fear what they believe his victory represents.
MISUSE OF FEDERAL POWER
The APC also appeared to underestimate the danger of making federal power part of its campaign argument. There were moments when the party’s message appeared to suggest that Osun would benefit from aligning itself with the Federal Government and APC-controlled states.
On paper, the argument is straightforward: a governor who belongs to the same party as the President may find it easier to attract federal attention, projects and resources. But politically, the message can easily be interpreted differently. Voters may hear: “Support us because we control Abuja.”
That is a dangerous proposition in a democracy. Citizens do not want to be reminded that government has power over them. They want to be convinced that government works for them.
And the more the APC appeared to rely on the influence of the Federal Government, the easier it became for Adeleke to frame the election as a choice between Osun’s independence and Abuja’s control. That was a contest he was better positioned to win.
WORDS THAT BECAME CAMPAIGN WEAPONS
The APC also suffered from the consequences of political rhetoric. Statements attributed to some of its prominent figures, including Senator Francis Fadahunsi, became part of the controversy surrounding the campaign. Opposition politicians seized on what they described as inflammatory or threatening rhetoric, with the PDP publicly condemning what it called “hurtful rhetorics” from APC figures.
Whether every statement was fairly interpreted is another matter. But politics is not only about what a politician says. It is also about what voters believe the politician is saying. Political communication becomes particularly dangerous during elections because words travel faster than explanations.
A statement made at a rally can quickly move to WhatsApp groups, markets, religious gatherings, family conversations and social media. By the time the speaker offers clarification, the political damage may already have been done.
In a close election, one frightening or inflammatory statement can undo weeks of careful campaigning. The APC should have understood that.
POLITICS OF THE UNDERDOG
Perhaps the party’s biggest mistake was allowing Adeleke to occupy the emotional position of the underdog. That is particularly striking because Adeleke was the incumbent.
Ordinarily, an incumbent governor seeking re-election should be the candidate defending his record. The opposition should be asking voters whether they are satisfied with his performance.
Adeleke had vulnerabilities. He had controversies. He had political baggage. He had also left the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) and contested the election under the Accord platform, a development that could have provided the APC with a powerful argument about political consistency.
Instead, the APC campaign increasingly gave Adeleke reasons to present himself as the candidate under siege. The EFCC controversy strengthened that narrative. The religious controversy strengthened it. The emphasis on Federal Government influence strengthened it. Some of the rhetoric from APC figures strengthened it further.
Suddenly, Adeleke could present himself not simply as an incumbent asking for another term, but as a governor defending Osun against external political pressure.
That is a powerful electoral position.
The election the APC should have fought
The APC should have made the election a referendum on Adeleke’s performance. It should have asked simple questions. What has changed in Osun under Adeleke? What has happened to jobs? How has security improved? What is the condition of schools and hospitals? How sustainable are the state’s finances? What has been delivered compared with what was promised?
Those questions would have forced Adeleke to defend his record. Instead, the election increasingly became a referendum on the APC itself. And voters answered.
This does not mean Adeleke won simply because the APC made mistakes. Such an argument would diminish the millions of individual decisions made by Osun voters.
It means the APC’s mistakes created an environment in which Adeleke’s political strengths became more valuable. He could invoke the EFCC controversy. He could portray himself as resisting federal pressure. He could appeal to voters who feared religious polarisation. He could remind the electorate that the President’s party was asking for control of the state. And he could pose a simple question: Should Abuja decide who governs Osun? For an opposition-minded electorate, that is a potent question.
TINUBU’S INFLUENCE HAS LIMITS
There is another lesson for the APC, and perhaps an even bigger one for 2027. Federal power is not transferable. President Tinubu’s political influence is considerable. But his influence cannot simply be deposited in a ballot box on behalf of an APC candidate.
Osun voters demonstrated that they could separate the President from the governor they wanted. They could respect the President and still reject his party’s candidate. They could acknowledge the Federal Government while insisting that the choice of governor remained theirs. That is how democracy is supposed to work. The Osun result should therefore concern the APC beyond the immediate defeat.
Nigeria’s electorate is increasingly difficult to predict. Voters can support a government at one level and oppose its party at another. They can admire a president but reject a candidate endorsed by him. They can acknowledge a candidate’s competence while disapproving of the political atmosphere surrounding his campaign. The ballot is not a loyalty card.
UNCOMFORTABLE QUESTIONS
The APC may therefore need to ask itself a question more difficult than: “Who defeated us?” The more important question is: “What did we do that made voters want to punish us?”
That question requires more honesty. The party had the machinery. It had the Federal Government. It had influential political figures. It had a candidate it presented as competent and experienced. It had religious and political endorsements. Yet Adeleke prevailed by 66,252 votes. That margin is too substantial to dismiss as luck, celebrity appeal or dancing. It represents a political verdict. And perhaps the most uncomfortable conclusion is this:
The APC may not have lost Osun to Adeleke. It may have lost Osun to itself.
The party gave its opponent several narratives that he did not have to invent.
It allowed an election that could have been about Adeleke’s record to become a contest about federal interference, political pressure, religion and power.
By election day, the question was no longer simply whether Adeleke deserved another term. For many voters, it had become a question of whether the APC should be allowed to take control of Osun. Adeleke won that argument.
HARD WORK BEGINS
But there is a warning for Adeleke in the result too. Sympathy does not govern a state. Dancing does not govern a state. The Adeleke name does not govern a state. An electoral victory is not a permanent mandate. The same voters who rejected the APC will eventually judge Accord and Adeleke by what they do with the opportunity they have been given.
They will expect better infrastructure, improved healthcare, stronger security, employment opportunities, quality education and accountable governance.
If Adeleke fails to deliver, the electorate that rejected the APC can reject him too. That is perhaps the most important lesson from Osun. The real winner was not necessarily Adeleke, Accord or even the APC. It was the voter. The voter who demonstrated that political machinery has limits. The voter who showed that federal influence has limits. The voter who reminded politicians that endorsements do not automatically translate into votes.
And above all, the voter who reaffirmed a simple democratic truth: Power can campaign. Money can campaign. Parties can campaign. Presidents can campaign. But when the ballots are counted, only voters decide.
