by Mohammed Bello Doka
Is Kaduna politics really settled—or is it merely quiet?
If the El-Rufai–Ashiru alignment is a mirage, why the hurried denials?
If power is secure, why the nervous need to mock what “does not exist”?
And if yesterday’s kingmaker is truly finished, why does his shadow still decide tomorrow’s conversations?
These are not academic questions. They cut to the bone of Kaduna’s unfinished 2023 story—and to the unease now visible in the reactions of Governor and his loudest defender, . Power that feels safe does not shout this much.
The 2023 Election Kaduna Wants to Forget
The official story says 2023 is over. The electoral record says otherwise. In that election, the (PDP) swept all three senatorial seats in Kaduna State. North, Central, South—every Senate seat went PDP. That is not a fluke. It is not an accident. It is evidence of statewide reach, voter mood, and organisational muscle.
Yet, in the same cycle, the governorship stayed with the APC. This contradiction—legislative rejection alongside executive survival—is the riddle Kaduna’s ruling class would rather not solve aloud. Because solving it leads to an uncomfortable truth: APC’s governorship victory did not flow from a wave of enthusiasm for continuity. It flowed from something else.
The Ashiru Moment That Didn’t Fail
In 2023, Isha Ashiru Kudan flew the PDP flag as governorship candidate. His ticket rode a tide strong enough to capture every senatorial seat. That alone rebuts the lazy claim that Ashiru was “rejected.” You don’t reject a movement and then hand it total control of the Senate.
Ashiru did not lose because Kaduna turned away from the PDP. He lost despite PDP’s statewide momentum. That distinction matters—because it separates electoral reality from propaganda. It also explains why Ashiru remains relevant: he represents unfinished business, not a failed experiment.
The El-Rufai Effect: How APC Really Survived
There is no honest account of Kaduna 2023 that omits . The election was less a contest of parties than a referendum on trust. And in the decisive moments, that trust was personal. Voters were asked to accept continuity not because they adored the APC brand, but because they believed the outgoing governor’s judgment.
Put plainly: it was by the grace of God—and the belief in El-Rufai—that Uba Sani crossed the line. El-Rufai’s political capital insulated APC from a total rout. He neutralised anger, calmed elites, and convinced fence-sitters that continuity would be safer than rupture. That shield mattered. Without it, the numbers tell a harsher story.
This is not revisionism. It is arithmetic.
Incumbency Without the Shield
Fast-forward to 2027. The shield is no longer guaranteed. Incumbency is not immunity; it is conditional. It rests on party cohesion, elite consent, labour calm, and—critically—narrative control. When any one of these weakens, incumbency becomes exposure.
Governor Uba Sani governs in a different environment from the one that delivered him victory. The unifying figure who transferred trust is no longer the guarantor. The same voice that once asked voters to stay the course now questions the direction. The implications are obvious—and worrying.
Why the El-Rufai–Ashiru Equation Changes Everything
Politics is not about friendships; it is about fit. El-Rufai brings strategy, timing, elite networks, and narrative discipline. Ashiru brings proof of reach, electoral structure, and the memory of a movement that already conquered the Senate. Together, they bridge the very gap that defined 2023.
This is why dismissals ring hollow. Separately, each unsettles the status quo. Together, they rewrite the equation: PDP’s demonstrated breadth meets El-Rufai’s legitimacy bridge. What did not align in 2023 could cohere in 2027.
Shehu Sani and the Noise of Denial
Enter Shehu Sani, the chorus of reassurance. His repeated insistence that nothing is happening is itself the tell. In politics, confidence whispers; anxiety shouts. The louder the denial, the clearer the discomfort.
Shehu Sani understands the subtext. He knows that Kaduna’s power map is sensitive to perception—and that El-Rufai’s relevance persists precisely because people keep insisting it doesn’t. Attacking an alliance that “will fail woefully” is a curious use of time if one truly believes it.
The Quiet Movements Beneath the Surface
The next phase will not be cinematic. It will be methodical. Former appointees and technocrats, sidelined but loyal, will move first. Disaffected legislators—denied leverage, blocked ambitions—will align quietly. Intellectuals and media elites will rehabilitate the reformer narrative. Factions within a paralysed opposition will test cooperation before formal leaps.
Platforms will matter less than timing. The (ADC) may serve as a holding bay; coalitions may do the heavy lifting. The point is not the vehicle. It is the momentum.
Southern Kaduna: The Deciding Corridor
No path to Government House bypasses Southern Kaduna. It is pragmatic, issue-driven, and transactional. It votes against exclusion, not for slogans. In 2023, it resisted. In 2027, it will negotiate.
Here, the El-Rufai–Ashiru pairing matters again. One offers recalibration and elite assurance; the other offers roots in the opposition wave that already proved its reach. Acceptability corridors, not press releases, decide close races.
The Cascade Scenario
Watch the sequence. First, silence. Then elite murmurs. Then narrative reframing. Then internal party stress. Then convergence. By the time the alliance looks visible, it may already be irreversible.
This is why worry is rational. Not panic—worry. Because Kaduna’s recent history shows that the most consequential moves are made before the crowd notices.
A Final Word Kaduna Should Heed
The lesson of 2023 is not that APC is invincible. It is that El-Rufai was decisive. The lesson of 2027 may be that the decisive man chose a different alignment.
Kaduna has buried politicians prematurely before—and paid later. Those insisting that El-Rufai is finished should ask themselves a simpler question: if he was powerful enough to save APC once, what happens if he decides to test that power against it?
In Nigerian politics, the most dangerous figure is not the one shouting.
It is the one everyone keeps insisting is done.