Ah, how sweet it was while it lasted! The brief, sugary romance between the Bulaberians and their newly found “love” for Muhammadu Buhari. A love affair so sudden, so awkward, so fake, it could have been scripted by Nollywood’s worst screenwriter. But alas, dear readers, the honeymoon is officially over — and what we are witnessing now is the same old venom these folks once spat day and night at Buhari, now repackaged in familiar insults and caustic remarks.
You see, as I, Mohammed Bello Doka, clearly warned in my July 20th edition of Sarcastic Sunday, “when political romance is born out of desperation and hopelessness, it will collapse faster than a badly built Abuja flyover.” And collapse it did. Back then, I told you — and I quote myself here — “don’t be fooled by the Bulaberians’ sudden praise for Buhari; it’s not love, it’s political calculation disguised as affection.” Well, I hate to say “I told you so”… but here we are.
This sudden reversal is not just predictable; it’s embarrassingly textbook. The moment Buhari’s ministers, allies, and core supporters refused to be sucked into the drama and antics of the Bulaberians, the fragile house of cards came tumbling down. They expected the North to jump on their bandwagon, but the North looked away. They thought Buhari’s old guard would be impressed, but the old guard shrugged. They imagined the South would unite under Tinubu’s “master plan,” but the South is now more fractured than a politician’s promise after elections.
The truth is, everyone is beginning to see it: the fraud is glaring, the failures are mounting, and the desperation is dripping like sweat under the Abuja sun. Even Tinubu’s photo-op trip to Kano without Ganduje in the background — something they thought was a masterstroke — has now been reduced to whispers and side-eyes. And the recent stunt of renaming UNIMAID after Buhari, in what I once sarcastically called “The Fear of 12 Million Votes Is the Beginning of Wisdom”, has now aged like sour milk.
Now that the honeymoon is over, the Bulaberians have gone back to their default setting — attacking Buhari with the same bitterness they pretended to have overcome just weeks ago. The fake “love” has evaporated, and what’s left is the raw, undiluted disdain they had all along. What changed? Nothing, except that their shallow strategy has failed to seduce the constituencies they desperately needed.
And here’s the most deliciously sarcastic part: these same people, who just days ago were hailing Buhari as the man who “laid the foundation” and “stood for the North’s dignity,” are now back to mocking him as if their memory was wiped clean. They have returned to their old hymnal of “Buhari ruined Nigeria” and “Buhari’s incompetence is why we are here”. Oh, the convenience of selective amnesia in politics!
More defections are hitting the APC like mosquitoes on a humid night, and the so-called united South that Tinubu hoped to marshal is splitting at the seams. The North remains unmoved, unbothered, and unimpressed. And for all the chest-thumping about “strategic unity,” Tinubu’s house is looking less like a fortress and more like a collapsing hut with leaking zinc roofing.
As I said on July 20th, “politics without sincerity is like a marriage without trust — it will not survive the first quarrel.” The quarrel is here, folks. The marriage is dead. And the Bulaberians are back in their natural habitat — throwing shade at Buhari, sulking over political rejection, and realizing that love built on hopelessness is not love at all.
So, let’s raise a sarcastic toast: to the shortest honeymoon in Nigerian political history. May it be remembered not for its sweetness, but for the sheer comedy of its inevitable, predictable end.
Final words
Nigerians know It wasn’t Buhari who yanked off fuel subsidy and tossed the country into an Olympic marathon of suffering.
It wasn’t Buhari who floated the Naira like a hopeless balloon with a slow leak, watching it drift aimlessly while shouting, “Market forces will fix it!”
It wasn’t Buhari who swore on the holy book of Political Promises that he would never borrow to fund infrastructure—because, in his fairy tale, the trillions saved from subsidy removal would fund the budget and still leave change for akara and bread.
And it definitely isn’t Buhari now sprinting to break the Guinness World Record for the fastest and largest borrowing spree in human history—like a shopaholic on a shopping cart dash, only the bill is being sent to 200 million unsuspecting Nigerians.