
Yes, Nigeria’s presidential election is seven months away and the campaigns, should there be any, have not begun.
But today, I will tell you how it will play out and who will win.
First, let us recall that Bola Ahmed Tinubu won the contest in 2023 on a nationally embarrassing record-low 26.72% voter turnout.
Of that, he received just 36.61% (8,794,726 votes), the lowest winning share in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic. He is ruling Nigeria on less than nine million votes.
That happened because a fragmented opposition split the anti-incumbent majority three ways. But Atiku Abubakar (29.07%), Peter Obi (25.40%) and Rabiu Kwankwaso (6.23%) together secured 60.7% of the vote, collectively outpolling Tinubu by a wide margin.
Here in June 2026, three and a half years later, that fragmentation has worsened. His principal 2023 contestants, Atiku Abubakar and the Obi-Kwankwaso bloc, are again on separate platforms following the collapse of the Ibadan coalition just two months ago, where they had teased unity and collaboration.
Tinubu enters 2027 with a deeply unpopular economic record (peak inflation above 34%, 643% petrol price rise, 141 million in multidimensional poverty), a worsening security crisis 19,980 killed, 12,362 abducted since May 2023 per CSO data), and an Electoral Act 2026 widely criticized for entrenching incumbency.
Nothing exposes the futility of the administration more than the numbers in its own flagship document, PROMISES DELIVERED, published on its third anniversary last month, a self-indictment and that in normal times would be a major liability in an election year.
But the structural advantages of office, access to resources of all forms and sizes, and his All-Progressives Congress control of 31 states and the National Assembly make him a clear favourite.
The biggest factor granting him that status? The fragmented opposition.
But history demonstrates that even fragmented oppositions can win.
In Zambia in 2021, Hakainde Hichilema, in his sixth presidential run and third contest against Edgar Lungu, defeated the incumbent.
His UPND, which was backed by an alliance of 10 opposition parties, “won with 2,810,777 votes to Mr Lungu’s 1,814,201,” the BBC reported: a landslide of more than a million votes.
But Nigerians do not really need to advance beyond their own boundaries to identify a model that has worked. In February 2015, three opposition parties (ACN, CPC, ANPP) and a faction of the ruling PDP merged and became the APC: not a loose alliance, but a genuine party merger.
To understand what happened eight years earlier, consider that Mr Tinubu, the architect of that merger, did not contest the presidential ticket. It went instead to Muhammadu Buhari, a northerner better positioned to deliver the core North vote, balanced by southern running mate Yemi Osinbajo.
Buhari defeated incumbent Goodluck Jonathan by 2.6 million votes, marking the first time an opposition party unseated a ruling party in Nigeria and the country’s first peaceful transfer of power between political parties. The APC achieved the feat with a nine-point margin.
What made that triumph possible were the factors of a single merged platform, a credible candidate with a fixed support base, elite willingness to subordinate personal ambition, the defection of disaffected PDP governors, and a unifying “change” message amid economic discontent and insecurity. It is these same factors that are about to put opposition political egos in Nigeria on trial.
The APC merger of 2015 and Zambia’s 2021 UPND coalition are excellent models, but only when rivals subordinate personal ambition to a single ticket early, build a genuinely merged party, and deploy parallel vote protection. As I write this article, Nigeria’s opposition has done none of these.
As last week ended, all the major parties appeared to be proceeding as if they have all the time in the world, not only between themselves, but towards APC, while the Obi-Kwankwaso ADC was dangling from the edge of political exclusion.
Translation: the opposition’s greatest enemy is not Tinubu’s machinery but its own dysfunction.
The way forward for Nigeria’s opposition is clear: learn from APC, and from Mr Tinubu, who in 2015 began to play the long game. That game became “Emilokan” in 2023, executed with his “Grab it, snatch it, run with it” philosophy. From the point of view of strategy, it worked.
For today’s opposition, the time for a merger is now gone, but the long game is still available to the opposition if it wants to be a credible, competitive entity now and in the future.
First, and understanding that fragmentation hands victory to the incumbent, they must now pick one candidate behind one party and let the loser’s ego be bought out the way APC did it in 2015. And no, don’t pretend that personal goodwill will settle the ticket. Resolve the presidential question through a pre-announced method that all major camps sign before the process begins. That method should combine two criteria that matter in Nigeria’s system: electability and spread.
Nobody should be pressured merely to “step down for Nigeria,” but they should sign a political contract that makes stepping down survivable.
Concede that Obi (who has the youth/southern energy and the cleaner brand) and Atiku (who has northern reach) cannot both run.
The 2015 template, where Tinubu ceded the ticket to the better-positioned Buhari and took compensating influence, is the proven path. With the primary window now closed, the only practical plan would be to build a state-by-state non-aggression and joint-ticket framework.
Nigeria is a federation, and opposition strategy should behave like one, pooling and pulling together rather than testing against one another everywhere.
A realistic alliance would pair a single presidential ticket with negotiated zoning for Senate, House, governorship, and state-level endorsements in places where one camp is plainly stronger than the others.
The losing camps should receive guaranteed and written compensation, such as running-mate negotiations, campaign leadership roles, and cabinet-allocation principles.
The second element is to invest in building result-protection infrastructure to neutralise the Electoral Act 2026 loophole, learning from Zambia’s parallel vote tabulation. Because Section 60(3) leaves “communication failure” undefined and removes the real-time upload requirement, the opposition cannot rely on INEC’s IReV alone. It should train, equip, and station paid polling agents in as many of the 176,000 polling units as possible, instructed to photograph and transmit signed EC8A forms and to document any “communication failure” in real time; and run an independent parallel vote tabulation with civil-society partners.
The third element is to expand the base and raise turnout.
Tinubu won 2023 on 26.72% turnout; the opposition’s structural advantage is the hungry, angry and disengaged majority, including the newly registered young voters. A unified ticket should:
- Prioritise voter mobilisation and PVC collection drives in high-population, low-turnout urban centres.
- Craft a single economic-relief and security message.
- Lock in a credible North-South balanced ticket to avoid the zoning resentment that has repeatedly fractured both the PDP and the coalition.
The coalition should avoid trying to write a manifesto that reconciles every ideological difference. It is more realistic to agree on a concise covenant built around five or six issues that cut across region, religion, class and party.
Because while Tinubu is deeply vulnerable, he is not weak. One army can defeat him, but not two or three, no matter how powerful they may individually be.

