By Eshio Imafido
Former vice president Atiku Abubakar, a man who has made a career out of presidential ambitions, and Nasir El-Rufai, a political maverick with a penchant for controversy, on Friday, after a Juma’at prayer, made their ways to late Edwin Clark’s home to pay a condolence visit to the deceased family where they eventually won the media space of the week, taking over from the backlashes that trailed IBB’s book launch.
Armed with a team of media personnel, seemingly for the show, they turned the condolence visit into a campaign rally. El-Rufai, ever the willing pawn, took the centre stage, his words laced with the kind of insincerity that has come to define Nigerian politics. He spoke not of the legacy of Chief Edwin Clark, not of his contributions to the nation – I have yet to see or read any tribute from him to the late elder statesman even on his social media handle as of the time of writing – but of Atiku’s paperback achievements during the Obasanjo’s administration.
It was a performance so shameless, so devoid of empathy, that it could only be described as a slap in the face of the grieving Clark family and a spit on the dignity of a man who spent his life fighting for justice and haven’t been laid to rest. Even in the mafia world, there exists a code, a thread of decency that binds even the most cunning of minds when one of their dead is being mourned. They understand that some lines must not be crossed.
The newly forged alliance between Nasir El-Rufai and Atiku Abubakar comes as no surprise to many Nigerians, as such political maneuvering has become a hallmark of the country’s political landscape. Most Nigerian politicians are notorious for their ideological flexibility- they champion one stance today only to pivot to its opposite tomorrow. This calculated realignment underscores the transactional nature of Nigerian politics, where alliances are driven more by expediency than principle.
El-Rufai, whose influence in his party the APC and home state, Kaduna have waned, and Atiku, whose influence in the PDP has naturally eluded him as evidence in the avalanches of internal crises that have brought the party almost to its knees, appear to be driven more by personal political ambitions. Their reunion, born out of apparent frustration, underscores the lengths to which political actors may go to reclaim relevance, often without due consideration of the long-term implications of their actions.
The show at late Chief Clark’s house exemplified the theatre of Nigerian politics, where the stage is perpetually set for farce and tragedy, the actors often forget their lines, the audience is left in despair, and the script is rewritten to suit the whims of the most brazen. The Nigerian political class can stoop in their relentless pursuit of power. It is a tale of moral bankruptcy, a metaphor for the rot that has eaten deep into the fabric of our nation, and a stark illustration of how the sacred is often desecrated on the altar of selfish ambition.
Chief Edwin Clark, a colossus of the Niger Delta and a tireless advocate for justice and equity, was a man who deserved to be mourned with dignity. His passing was a moment for national reflection, a time to honour a life spent in service to the marginalised and the voiceless. But in Nigeria, even death is not sacred. It is but another opportunity for politicians to grandstand, to manipulate, and to exploit. And so, what should have been a solemn occasion became a carnival of self-interest, a macabre dance of political opportunism that left Nigerians aghast.
“Nobody gives Atiku Abubakar the credit for economic policy-making under the Obasanjo administration,” El-Rufai declared, as if the living room of a bereaved family was the appropriate venue for such self-serving propaganda. The irony was lost on him, as it often is on men who have long abandoned the principles they once claimed to uphold. Here was a man, Atiku, who has spent decades positioning himself as a leader, yet in a moment that called for humility and respect, he stood by silently as his surrogate turned a sacred occasion into a political spectacle. It was a betrayal not just of the Clark family, but of the values that Chief Edwin Clark stood for.
But the irony runs deeper. This was an El-Rufai, who in his book, Accidental Public Servant, had painted a damning portrait of Atiku, accusing him of playing a central role in the shameful privatisation of government assets during the Obasanjo administration. He wrote of Atiku’s alleged greed, his manipulation of power, and his role in what many consider one of the most controversial periods in Nigeria’s economic history. El-Rufai’s book was a scathing indictment of Atiku’s character, a litany of accusations that painted him as a man more interested in personal gain than public service. Yet, here was El-Rufai, years later, standing in the home of a deceased national icon, singing Atiku’s praises as if the past had been erased, as if the words in his book had never been written.
El-Rufai once again displayed his trademark lack of logical reasoning when he lamented that Nigerians only focus on the negative aspects of Atiku. Ironically, his own book is a glaring contradiction to this claim, as he conveniently omitted any favourable mention of Atiku whatsoever. Such blatant hypocrisy and double standards are precisely why politicians like him struggle to be taken seriously. Who, in their right mind, would trust or respect someone who flip-flop so shamelessly, exposing their own lack of integrity with every word they utter?
This overnight transformation of El-Rufai from Atiku’s critic to his chief spokesperson is not just hypocritical; it is a shameful tale about the transactional nature of Nigerian politics- that in the pursuit of power, principles are often the first casualty. El-Rufai, a man who once positioned himself as a reformer, a man of integrity, has now become a willing pawn in Atiku’s political chess game.
What happened in Clark’s home was not an aberration; it was a microcosm of the moral decay that plagues Nigeria’s political class. It only reinforced the believe among the public that for many of our so-called leaders, power is not a means to serve, but an end in itself. They are like vultures, circling above the carcass of a nation, waiting to pick at the bones.
Chief Edwin Clark was a man of integrity, a voice of reason in a nation often bereft of both. He fought for the Niger Delta, for the rights of the oppressed, and for a Nigeria where justice and equity were not just slogans, but realities. His death should have been a moment for unity, for reflection, for honouring a legacy that transcended politics. Instead, it became a stage for the kind of political theatre that has come to define Nigeria: a theatre of the absurd, where the actors are clowns, the script is a farce, and the audience is left to wonder if there will ever be a happy ending.
To Atiku and El-Rufai, we say this: Your actions have exposed the emptiness of your rhetoric and the hollowness of your promises. You have shown us that for you, politics is not about service, but about self. You have turned a moment of mourning into a campaign rally, and in doing so, you have insulted not just the memory of Chief Edwin Clark, but the intelligence of every Nigerian who still believes in the possibility of a better nation. History will judge you harshly for this, and the Nigerian people will not forget.
Let us rise as one to condemn this act, to demand better from those who aspire to lead us, and to reclaim the values that Chief Edwin Clark held dear. For if we do not, we risk becoming a nation that has lost its soul, a nation where the sacred is always desecrated, and where the memory of our heroes is trampled underfoot by the very people who claim to lead us. The time to act is now. The time to demand accountability is now. The time to honour the legacy of Chief Edwin Clark is now. Anything less would be a betrayal of everything he stood for.
