“When a Giant Sleeps: Osinbajo’s Words Make Us Ask – Did We Appreciate Buhari Enough?”
A few years ago, I stumbled into a conversation at a dingy coffee shop – you know, the kind where the AC never works and the coffee’s way too bitter – and we were arguing about Nigeria’s leaders. Someone asked, “Who’s the real patriot among them?” It got heated. Names flew around – Awolowo, Zik, even newer faces. But when someone said “Buhari”, the table went silent.
It’s funny, isn’t it? How one name can split a room in two. Some folks swore he was the embodiment of integrity. Others thought he was too rigid for our ever-chaotic politics. But now, hearing Osinbajo say, “Nigeria has lost a true patriot” hits different. Feels like that coffee shop debate never ended.
I’ve noticed we, Nigerians (and maybe people in general), have this odd habit of not fully appreciating someone till they’re gone. We’re quick to complain when they’re around – “he didn’t do this,” “he didn’t do that” – but the moment they’re no longer here, nostalgia starts repainting things. Makes you wonder if we’re fair critics or just serial complainers scrolling through Twitter threads at 2 a.m. (guilty, by the way).
When Osinbajo spoke those words, you could sense he meant it. Not in the political-speak way, but like a man who’d sat across the table from Buhari, argued with him, maybe laughed a bit, maybe stormed out once or twice. You don’t call someone a patriot lightly. Especially when you’ve seen them behind closed doors, away from cameras and carefully worded press statements.
In my opinion, Buhari’s legacy is complicated. He had flaws (plenty, if you listen to market women and okada riders). But he stood for something he thought was bigger than himself. He wasn’t perfect. Who is? But to be called a patriot by your second-in-command? That’s saying something.
I think of everyday Nigerians – the guy selling suya by the roadside, the woman juggling two phones at her provision store, students hustling through ASUU strikes – and I wonder: did we ever truly understand what Buhari was trying to do? Or did we just want miracles on a shoestring budget? I may be wrong, but I feel like sometimes we expect our leaders to fix decades of mess overnight, and when they don’t, we toss them out like yesterday’s garri water.
Anyway, Osinbajo’s tribute got me reflecting. Maybe we should argue less and listen more. Or at least argue with more grace. Because one day, someone we love to drag on social media might be the same person we’re writing eulogies for.
So here I am, half-finished cup of coffee beside me (I should probably switch to tea), wondering: what does being a “true patriot” really mean these days? Is it about the big things, the power and policies, or is it about quietly trying – even when you know you’ll be misunderstood?
Something to chew on, yeah?