Abdulkadir A. Ibrahim (Kwakwatawa), FNGE,

Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf’s eventual defection was not an act of ambition or betrayal, but a calculated decision shaped by loyalty, patience and the overriding necessity of governance. His journey reflects the difficult balance between ideology and responsibility in Nigeria’s political terrain.

Politics is not merely a contest for power; it is a discipline of choice. It is a terrain where patience is tested, loyalty is strained, and leadership is measured not by noise but by consequence. Within this demanding landscape, the delayed defection of Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf did not arise from indecision, opportunism or personal ambition. Rather, it emerged from a deliberate and sustained effort to align loyalty with strategy, principle with progress, and mentorship with the realities of governance.

From the very beginning, Abba Kabir Yusuf’s political life has been defined by obedience and restraint. His rise was neither abrupt nor rebellious. He operated firmly within the shadow of his political mentor, Senator Rabi’u Musa Kwankwaso, absorbing the ethos of movement politics, where discipline outweighs impulse and structure takes precedence over personal will. Even as governor of Kano, one of Nigeria’s most politically significant states, Abba remained ideologically grounded in the belief that leadership must not outgrow loyalty.

Yet politics evolves, and governance confronts leaders with questions that ideology alone cannot answer.

Governor Abba’s delay in defecting to the APC was rooted in a singular objective: he wanted Kano’s political realignment to be collective, dignified and anchored around his mentor. On several occasions, he made deliberate and quiet efforts to soften Kwankwaso’s stance, urging him to look beyond rigid demands and towards broader possibilities of national alignment. Abba understood what many pretended not to see — that Kwankwaso’s value in Nigerian politics was already established and did not require transactional bargaining to be affirmed.

In this pursuit, Abba became more than a governor; he became a bridge. His travels, both local and international, were not personal adventures but diplomatic missions. The planned meeting in France, subsequent engagement attempts in the UAE, and the eventual discussion with President Bola Ahmed Tinubu in Abuja were all part of a calculated effort to create neutral ground for dialogue. Each step reflected Abba’s belief that reconciliation must be pursued persistently, even when outcomes are uncertain.

It is no longer a secret that political restructuring within the APC, including the removal of Dr Abdullahi Umar Ganduje as National Chairman, was widely interpreted as an opening gesture towards Kwankwaso. The intention was clear: to create space, reduce friction and encourage reintegration. Yet, despite these overtures, the response remained distant. Even when a direct meeting between President Tinubu and Kwankwaso was proposed after Abba’s engagement with the President, it was deliberately declined.

At the heart of the impasse was rigidity. The insistence that any return to the APC must be predicated on a vice-presidential ticket revealed a fundamental misreading of political timing.

While Kwankwaso remains charismatic, influential and a proven crowd mobiliser, succession politics is not dictated by entitlement but by alignment, trust and gradual consensus. Abba saw this clearly and repeatedly counselled moderation, patience and realism.

Throughout this period, Abba Kabir Yusuf endured in silence. He absorbed political marginalisation within his own movement without public complaint. He exercised little or no influence over party structures, candidate selection or even local government political arrangements. Yet, despite these constraints, he never uttered a single negative word against his mentor. On the contrary, he publicly warned commentators and social media actors against disparaging Kwankwaso. This was not weakness; it was character.

However, governance eventually demands a reckoning.

Kano State could no longer afford political isolation. Development, security, infrastructure and economic revival require synergy with the centre. The cost of standing apart had become too visible to ignore. The Wuju-Wuju road project stands as a powerful symbol of this reality. Conceived during Kwankwaso’s tenure at an estimated cost of about ₦5 billion, the project languished for years in abandonment. Today, through federal intervention, the same project is being revived at a staggering cost of ₦46 billion. This is not merely inflation; it is the price of delay, distance and political disconnection.

For Abba Kabir Yusuf, this was the turning point. “Kano first” ceased to be a slogan and became a moral imperative. Development cannot be sentimental. Security cannot be postponed. Governance cannot wait for perfect alignment when the people are paying the price of political stasis. His defection to the APC, therefore, was not a rejection of loyalty but an expansion of responsibility.

Even in changing course, Abba remained faithful to his values. He left without insults, bitterness or revisionist attacks on his past. His silence spoke louder than any justification. It reflected a leader who understands that respect does not end where agreement fails — humble, gentle and courteous.

In the final reckoning, politics must answer to morality, and morality must answer to consequence. Leadership is not validated by how long one waits, but by when one chooses to act. Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf’s decision reflects a timeless truth: when loyalty begins to delay collective progress, conscience must intervene. Kano’s future could not remain hostage to prolonged negotiations or rigid postures, no matter how noble their origins.

History is unkind to leaders who confuse patience with prudence. It remembers those who understand that power is a means, not an inheritance, and that alignment is not surrender when it unlocks development, security and dignity for the people. Abba’s choice affirms that governance is a trust — one that demands difficult decisions taken with humility and restraint.

In choosing Kano first, prioritising peace, unity and progress over comfort, action over endless persuasion, and responsibility over sentiment, Abba Kabir Yusuf has placed himself on the harder side of leadership. And it is often on that harder side that the future is quietly secured.

Abdulkadir A. Ibrahim (Kwakwatawa), FNGE, is a veteran journalist and public affairs analyst. He writes from Kano.

Abubakar Muhammad

There are moments in politics when hesitation becomes costly and clarity becomes inevitable. Such moments demand firm decisions, not half measures. For Kano State, that moment has arrived—and the die is cast.

The Governor of Kano State, Alhaji Abba Kabir Yusuf, has formally resigned his membership of the New Nigeria People’s Party (NNPP), bringing to a close a significant chapter in the state’s political journey and opening the door to a new phase defined by stability, wider engagement, and the overriding interest of the people.

The resignation was conveyed in a letter addressed to the Chairman of Diso Chiranchi Ward, NNPP, Gwale Local Government Area, and took effect from Friday, 23rd January, 2026.

In the letter, Governor Yusuf expressed gratitude to the NNPP for the opportunity it provided him and for the support he received throughout his engagement with the party since 2022.

“I write with a deep sense of gratitude to formally notify the leadership of the New Nigeria People’s Party (NNPP) of my decision to resign my membership of the party, with effect from Friday, 23rd January, 2026.”

While appreciative of the platform offered by the party, the Governor made it clear that persistent internal disputes and prolonged legal battles have weakened the NNPP’s cohesion and capacity to function effectively as a vehicle for governance.

According to him, leadership disagreements and unresolved court cases have continued to unsettle the party’s structure across the country, creating divisions that now appear difficult to heal.

“The growing disenfranchisement among party members has created deep divisions within the party structure, resulting in cracks that appear increasingly irreconcilable and have generated uncertainty at both state and national levels.”

Indeed, for a state as strategic and populous as Kano, uncertainty is a luxury it cannot afford. Governance demands focus, stability, and a political environment that supports service delivery rather than distracts from it.

Governor Yusuf emphasized that his decision followed careful reflection and was guided solely by the public interest.

“After careful reflection, and without prejudice to the party’s capacity to resolve its internal challenges, I have come to the conclusion that my resignation is in the best interest of the people of Kano State.”

This decision, he stressed, was taken in good faith and without bitterness, reaffirming his commitment to peace, unity, and the continued progress of the state.

Significantly, the Governor is not alone in this decision. He is resigning alongside 21 members of the Kano State House of Assembly, eight members of the House of Representatives, and 44 Local Government Chairmen—underscoring the depth of consensus behind the move and the collective resolve to place Kano above party turbulence.

The resignation letter was acknowledged by the Secretary of Diso Chiranchi Ward, Hon. Kabiru Zubairu, who commended Governor Yusuf for his achievements in infrastructure development, urban renewal, healthcare delivery, education, and economic empowerment. While noting efforts to manage the party’s internal crisis, he accepted the Governor’s decision, describing him as one of the most performing leaders produced by the NNPP.

History teaches that when leaders delay hard choices, events eventually force them. Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf has chosen decisiveness over drift. With this step, Kano signals its readiness for a new political direction—one anchored on stability, cooperation, and results.

The die is cast. Kano moves forward.

Abubakar Muhammad writes from Kano.

Farooq Kperogi

The public rupture between Gov. Abba Yusuf and his “godfather” and in-law, Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso, has the visible trappings of carefully orchestrated political theater. 

Several people have suggested that Yusuf’s defection to the APC was artfully done at the instance of Kwankwaso and was calculated to stall the emergence of a formidable opponent from the APC.

But people close to Kwankwaso, whose integrity and credibility I have no reason to question, swear that the rift is real and that Kwankwaso is smarting from an inexpressibly profound sense of loss and betrayal.

Well, since those who claim that the Kwankwaso-Yusuf falling out is a Machiavellian political performance to checkmate the APC in Kano base their opinion only on intuition and not on cold, hard facts, I choose to err on the side of those who say Gov. Yusuf chose to sever his umbilical cord from Kwankwaso.

This is the second betrayal Kwankwaso has suffered, the first being his well-known acrimonious split with Abdullahi Ganduje, his formerly dutiful deputy.

I have read some Kwankwaso supporters suggest that since a previously loyal deputy betrayed him and an in-law did the same (Yusuf is said to be married to the daughter of Kwankwaso’s brother), maybe he should sponsor his son as the next governor.

I laughed when I read it because it reminded me of the late Olusola Saraki, who almost literally owned Kwara State. He made Adamu Atta the governor of the old Kwara State in 1979. Saraki and Atta dramatically fell apart before the end of Atta’s first term.

Saraki then shifted his enormous political capital to the opposition UPN and made its candidate, Cornelius Adebayo, the governor in 1983 while remaining in the NPN, at the expense of courting the wrath of the national NPN.

He fell out with Adebayo in short order, but the military intervened and spared us the drama of their political rupture.

In the truncated Third Republic in 1992, he supported Sha’aba Lafiagi as governor, but before Sani Abacha dislodged the republic in November 1993, visible cracks between Saraki and Lafiagi had already begun to appear.

So, when the Fourth Republic was inaugurated in 1999, Saraki decided to lend his political weight to an Ilorin native, since all the people he had previously supported from other parts of the state had disappointed him. He therefore worked to get Mohammed Lawal, an Ilorin man, elected governor in 1999.

Many people thought that would be the end of his political nightmare, but it actually got worse.

Against his own wish (I know this because he confided in me when he was alive, which I revealed in my November 24, 2012, column titled “My Last Encounter With Saraki”), he was compelled to support his conceited and culturally inept son, Bukola Saraki, for governor, which he did.

Although Bukola Saraki was his son, he fell out with him spectacularly. Then he wanted to sponsor his daughter, Gbemisola, as Bukola’s successor, which Bukola obstructed. Only his son was able stop him from “anointing” a governor and thus buried him politically. He died a sad man.

If a political godfather consistently falls out with every political godson, the common denominator is not the godsons’ flaws but the godfather himself.

Maybe Kwankwaso needs to look in the mirror and also study Saraki’s experience with political godfatherism.

More importantly, as I have pointed out in previous columns, power empowers. It emboldens and lionizes even the most abjectly diffident, previously slavish, bootlicking subordinates.

Power is particularly self-conscious in the presence of those who enabled it and who feel entitled to pull its strings. I think it is basic decency to steer clear of power once you bring it about. Meddling with power while out of its orbit never ends well.

But as Professor Toyin Falola recently observed in an interview with Edmund Obilo, for most politicians, politics is business. It is their primary source of income, which means they cannot afford to sponsor people into power and then sit back. They feel compelled to reap the returns on their investment. That, perhaps, is the heart of the problem.