By Shu’aibu Usman Leman
The recent suggestion by Prof. Jerry Gana that former President Goodluck Jonathan may run in the 2027 presidential election, says a great deal about the state of Nigerian politics.
A full decade after his historic electoral defeat, Jonathan is once again being presented as the potential saviour of the opposition Peoples Democratic Party (PDP). But this development is more than the ambition of one man; it underscores the deep lack of political imagination afflicting our democracy.
Jonathan’s political journey is familiar to most Nigerians. He rose unexpectedly to the presidency in 2010 following the death of President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua and won a full term in 2011, igniting hope across the country.
However, by 2015, that hope had faded into disillusionment, culminating in a landslide defeat that ended the PDP’s 16 – year grip on power.
It was not his governance, but his dignified concession speech, declaring that his ambition was not worth the blood of any Nigerian. That statemebt etched his name into democratic lore. That singular act earned him widespread admiration as a statesman.
Many believed that this graceful exit would mark the end of his presidential ambitions. It was assumed he would transition naturally into the role of elder statesman, offering wisdom, mentoring future leaders, and defending democratic values.
Few imagined that more than a decade later, he would be considered again for the presidency.
That he is being considered to run in 2027, points to a troubling reality: a political arena that seems barren of fresh ideas, new leaders, or bold alternatives.
Is this truly the best a nation of over 200 million can offer by recycling the same figures who once led us? Do we genuinely lack the capacity to produce new leadership, rooted in vision and competence?
This recurring reliance on familiar names reveal a systemic failure to inspire, innovate, or evolve.
Rather than grooming a new generation of capable leaders, the opposition routinely retreats into the comfort of old faces. Yet, Nigerians today face unprecedented economic hardship, skyrocketing inflation, deepening insecurity, and rampant unemployment.
They deserve leadership that can offer real hope. Elevating Jonathan again is not a solution, it’s an admission of creative bankruptcy.
It tells the Nigerian people that the past is the only future on offer.
Even setting aside his past record, a Jonathan candidacy would be legally contentious.
His re-entry would provoke immediate litigation, with the ruling party eager to exploit legal ambiguities and drag the opposition through protracted court battles right up to election day.
Instead of strengthening the opposition, his candidacy would mire it in legal distractions and strategic confusion.
And what of his legacy? Jonathan is best remembered not for his governance but for the grace with which he left power. That remains his most enduring contribution.
A failed or disqualified comeback would tarnish that legacy, reducing him to another political actor who couldn’t walk away when the moment demanded it.
Nostalgia can be politically seductive, but it is often misleading. While some Nigerians now recall his era as more stable than the present, we must not forget why voters rejected him.
His administration was accused of squandering an oil boom, tolerating corruption, and failing to contain a growing insurgency. These were not manufactured claims; they were decisive failures that cost him re-election.
So, can a man so clearly rejected a decade ago now emerge as a redeemer in 2027? Can we walk backwards into the future and expect a different outcome? These are uncomfortable but necessary questions.
The deeper issue, however, lies not with Jonathan himself but with chronic dysfunction within the opposition. Since 2015, the PDP has been riddled with internal strife, defections, and a glaring failure to reinvent itself.
Perennial candidates keep returning, and party influencers often operating from behind the scenes, continue to dictate direction.
While other credible figures linger in the political shadows, none has stepped forward as a true national unifier.
Even a former presidential flagbearer left before the party could fully embrace him as a symbol of renewal. That failure is perhaps the party’s greatest indictment.
If the opposition is serious about regaining power in 2027, it must find the courage to pursue a new kind of leadership. It must break away from nostalgia and recycled candidacies and instead respond to the aspirations of Nigeria’s vibrant youth, who yearn for leaders marked by competence, integrity, and accountability.
The opposition must present candidates who represent genuine renewal not political reruns.
The issue of zoning cannot be ignored either. A Jonathan comeback would reignite regional tensions: would his region once again claim the presidency, having held it before? Would other zones feel cheated or further alienated? Rather than healing the nation, his return could deepen existing divisions, further destabilising a party already struggling with internal cohesion.
Meanwhile, the ruling party would not sit idly by. With the current president expected to seek re-election, they would waste no time framing Jonathan as a legally questionable and politically exhausted candidate.
Their campaign would portray the opposition as visionless and stale, unable to offer fresh ideas or leadership.
In such a high-stakes contest, nostalgia alone will not survive the brutal force of political propaganda.
Jonathan’s desire for a return is understandable. Power is a potent drug, and those who have tasted it often find it hard to let go.
But history is kinder to those who leave the stage with grace. He already occupies a rare place as a respected African democrat. To risk that for a controversial and likely unsuccessful comeback is to trade honour for uncertainty, and possibly, ridicule.
What Nigeria desperately needs now is not another recycled leader but a clean break from the past. We need renewal, not repetition. Visionary leadership, not recycled ambition. Our challenges demand creative thinking, moral clarity, and bold action, not a return to familiar, exhausted figures.
So, we must ask: is this truly the best we can offer—a carousel of yesterday’s leaders, while the youth of this country remain sidelined in shaping their own future?
If the answer is yes, then our political crisis is far deeper than we are willing to admit.
Jonathan’s mooted return is not a strategy; it is a symptom. It reveals a political class too afraid of the future and too invested in the past. Nigeria deserves better.
Democracy cannot thrive without imagination and without it, we are doomed to repeat our worst mistakes.
Jonathan deserves respect for how he left office. But bringing him back in 2027 would not save Nigeria.
It would simply prove that while Nigerians hunger for progress, their leaders remain content to serve them warmed-over leftovers.
Leman is a former National Secretary of Nigeria Union of Journalists (NUJ)
