By Aare Amerijoye DOT.B
Nigeria stands today at the edge of a historic turning point, a place where despair demands a counterforce and where the roar of genuine leadership must finally drown the whispers of failed promises.
A nation battered by economic turbulence and smothered by hardship is now compelled to look beyond its ruins and recognise the unmistakable silhouette of the one man whose destiny has been delayed but never denied. That man is Atiku Abubakar, and 2027 is the year his mandate aligns with Nigeria’s redemption.
For too long, Nigeria has walked barefoot on the burning coals of misgovernance, dragged through the thorns of insecurity, and suffocated by the fumigation of poverty sprayed from Aso Rock by men who mistake power for wisdom and propaganda for governance. The people have cried. The people have bled. The people have endured. But 2027 will not be another year of endurance; it will be the year of liberation , because Atiku will be President.
Nigeria did not fall by accident. Nigeria was pushed , pushed by incompetence, pushed by arrogance, pushed by the economic vandalism of a government more interested in feeding cronies than feeding citizens.
But every tragedy summons its own redeemer, and Atiku is that redeemer summoned by Nigeria’s collective anguish. He is not emerging because he is desperate; he is emerging because Nigeria is desperate for competence, stability, security, and restructuring grounded in experience rather than experiments. 2027 is not about politics. It is about national survival.
There is a story Nigerians will tell their children in 2027: “We survived the famine of hope. We survived the drought of leadership. We survived a government that turned citizens into beggars and the nation into a shadow of itself. But when the darkness tried to swallow us, one man stretched his hand and Nigeria breathed again.” That man, they will say, was Atiku Abubakar, the man whose ideas the government rejected in public but quietly copied in private, whose warnings on insecurity, economy, subsidy, fiscal recklessness, and national cohesion proved prophetic.
2027 will be remembered as the year Nigeria discovered the difference between a politician and a statesman. Tinubu was the former. Atiku is the latter.
Nigerians will rejoice because under Atiku, the naira will stop behaving like a fugitive; confidence will return, investments will flow, and Nigeria will breathe like a civilisation again. Food prices will obey logic, not witchcraft. The era of spending ₦20,000 in the market and returning home with an empty nylon will be over. Security will no longer be a national lottery. Atiku understands the architecture of modern security, has advocated it for years, and has implemented its models before.
Federalism will stop being a grammar topic and become the operating system of governance. Atiku knows restructuring is not a threat; it is Nigeria’s oxygen mask. Jobs will be created deliberately, not accidentally. Institutions will rise, and godfatherism will collapse. The presidency will regain dignity; no more comedians masquerading as leaders, no more experimental governance, no more midnight policy earthquakes.
By 2027, Nigerians will look back at the years of hunger, rising inflation, insecurity, and reckless borrowing and say, “Never again.” Never again will we hand our nation to political gamblers. Never again will we mistake bullion van politics for competence. Never again will we tolerate a government where hardship is the national anthem. 2027 will be Nigeria’s collective apology to itself and Atiku will be the instrument of that apology.
Nigeria has never been closer to collapse, yet never been closer to redemption. History works like that: the darkest night announces the brightest dawn. Atiku Abubakar represents that dawn. Not because he seeks the throne, but because the throne seeks him. 2027 is not Atiku’s ambition; it is Nigeria’s correction. It is destiny completing its circle. It is the rejoicing that comes after unbearable weeping.
And when Atiku raises his right hand to take the oath of office, millions of Nigerians from Maiduguri to Lagos, from Aba to Jalingo, will whisper the same words: “At last… we can breathe again.”
Aare Amerijoye DOT.B
Director General
The Narrative Force.
