Tell President Tinubu: Winter is Coming and the North Remembers

By: Comrade Usman Abdulkadir Taleeki 

The words “Winter is Coming” and “The North Remembers” are phrases from George R.R. Martin’s Game of Thrones Series . In that epic tale, the House of Stark, lords of the North in the land of Westeros used them as both a warning and a reminder. “Winter is Coming” signified the certainty of hard times ahead, a call to prepare and not be lulled by temporary comfort. “The North Remembers” was their way of saying that loyalty and betrayal are never forgotten, even if years pass.

In my column this week, I have borrowed these phrases because they capture the very mood of Northern Nigeria today. The North is growing restless in its relationship with President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s administration. Just as the Starks reminded their people that winter would eventually arrive, many northerners now warn that the political season of 2027 is fast approaching. And just as the Starks declared that betrayals are never erased from memory, the North too insists it remembers the decisive role it played in delivering Tinubu’s 2023 victory and equally remembers the disappointments, the sidelining, and the broken promises that followed.

There is no dispute about the mathematics of Tinubu’s 2023 victory. Out of the 8,794,726 votes he secured nationwide, the North alone delivered 5,346,686, which is more than sixty percent of his total. Without that overwhelming northern support, his bid for the presidency would have failed. It is therefore unsurprising that the region expected not charity but fairness: recognition of its role and a visible share in the rewards of governance. Yet, two years into this administration, many Northerners see not fairness but betrayal.

The first shock came with the composition of the federal cabinet. True, every state was represented, as the constitution requires, and a few Northern states even secured two ministerial slots. But politics is not a matter of arithmetic alone. It is about influence, access, and the distribution of real power. Out of the strategic ministries such as finance, works, aviation, blue economy, and key economic portfolios, a disproportionate number went to other regions, some of which had contributed far fewer votes. To many in the North, this looked like daylight sidelining: the region carried the burden of the election but others carried away the prize.

The injury deepened with the relocation of federal institutions. First, the headquarters of the Federal Airports Authority of Nigeria (FAAN) was moved to Lagos. Soon after, the Central Bank of Nigeria shifted several of its most critical departments to Lagos: Banking Supervision, Other Financial Institutions Supervision, Consumer Protection, Payment Systems, and Financial Policy Regulations. Defenders argued that Lagos is Nigeria’s financial capital and therefore the logical location for such departments. But the North asked a simple question: if proximity is the logic, why was Kano, the commercial capital of the North, not considered? Why not Kaduna, with its long history as a political and military hub? Why is it only Lagos that enjoys this privilege? For Northerners who already suspected favoritism, the moves confirmed their fears that national institutions were being converted into regional assets.

Then came the matter of budgetary allocations. Multi-million -dollar projects were announced and flagged off in the South. The $652 million Lekki Deep Sea Port corridor. The Lagos-Calabar Coastal Highway stretching over a thousand kilometers. The modernization of Lagos airport terminals. These projects, no doubt, are of national importance. But where are their equivalents in the North? This is a region of over 90 million people, larger in population than most African countries, struggling with decrepit roads, outdated railways, fragile electricity supply, and an economy suffocated by insecurity. The imbalance is glaring. For many Northerners, it feels like while the South is being prepared for prosperity, the North is being condemned to stagnation.

Civil societies in the region noticed the trend. In 2024, the Coalition of Northern Civil Societies convened a meeting themed “Assessing Electoral Promises: Fostering Government-Citizen Engagement for National Unity.” Their conclusion was blunt: promises made to the North have been broken or quietly abandoned. Even agriculture, which employs over 60 percent of the region’s population, received no bold policy comparable to the billions poured into coastal infrastructure.

Tinubu’s economic reforms, especially his tax measures, have also deepened the hurt. The administration argues that widening the tax net is the only way to strengthen Nigeria’s revenues in an era of dwindling oil income. Yet in practice, the heaviest burdens have landed on the weakest shoulders. In Lagos or Port Harcourt, big corporations can hire consultants and absorb new levies. In Kano or Katsina, the same reforms suffocate small traders and fragile industries that barely survive under insecurity. The North voted massively for change but what it has received so far is higher taxation and fewer opportunities.

Even more delicate has been the suspected federal interference in the emirship crisis in Kano. For two consecutive years, the world-famous Durbar festival has been cancelled, a cultural wound for millions whose identity is tied to tradition. Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf has openly accused Abuja of fanning the crisis, while Dr. Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso lamented that while Southern states install kings and chiefs in peace, the North is denied the same liberty. Whether the accusations are right or wrong, the perception is dangerous: that the center meddles with Northern culture while leaving others untouched. For a people whose identity is anchored in tradition and religion, such interference is not just politics, it is seen as an assault on dignity.

Step back and the pattern becomes clear: appointments that sideline, institutions relocated to Lagos, budgets that strengthen the South while neglecting the North, tax reforms that hurt the weak more than the strong, and interference in the region’s traditions. For a region that gave more than half of Tinubu’s mandate, this is nothing short of betrayal.

History shows that the North’s political memory is long and its impact decisive. In 1979, in 1999, in 2015, and again in 2023, the North’s bloc support determined the outcome. When the North feels recognized, it votes with loyalty. When it feels betrayed, it waits quietly and then it remembers. And when it remembers, the result at the ballot box is often irreversible.

Yet, all is not lost. President Tinubu still has a window of correction. As 2025 closes, ministries and agencies will begin preparing the 2026 budget. This is his chance to show that his government is national, not sectional. The North needs bold allocations to fight insecurity, because without peace, no progress is possible. It needs roads and railways to connect its farms and markets. It needs irrigation and mechanization to revive agriculture. It needs investments in schools and hospitals to lift its millions of young people out of despair. These are not luxuries; they are necessities.

What is done is done, the saying goes. But what has not yet been done can still be corrected. If this administration acts with fairness, it can begin to rebuild trust. If it continues on the present path, then 2027 will be the North’s winter. And the North will remember. It will remember the broken promises, the skewed budgets, the relocated institutions, the burdensome taxes, and the cultural affronts. And when the North remembers, Nigeria itself will feel the chill.