By Idowu Ephraim Faleye
There’s a war raging in Nigeria, and at the center of it is a battle over who controls Nigeria’s resources, her people, and ultimately, her future. For decades, a small, powerful clique known as the Fulani oligarchy has held a tight grip on the levers of government and economy in Nigeria. But now, for the first time since the return of democracy in 1999, that grip is loosening. And that is why they are desperate to remove President Bola Ahmed Tinubu at all cost.
Since the dawn of the Fourth Republic, Nigerians across regions have consistently demanded three things—Separation, Regionalism, and Restructuring. While separation remains an emotional outcry and regionalism is a return to a former structure, the most practical and widely accepted solution is Restructuring, also known as True Federalism. The cry for restructuring is loudest not just in the South but across all corners of Nigeria—the South West, South East, South South, North Central, and even among the Indigenous Hausa people of the far North, both Christians and Muslims. The people want control over their own destinies. They want to manage their own resources, run their own governments, and determine their futures without interference from a distant central authority that has failed them for too long.
President Tinubu is the first Nigerian leader who seems genuinely committed to answering this age-old cry. From his first months in office, he has taken bold, deliberate steps toward fiscal federalism—one of the core pillars of restructuring. This means that instead of wealth being collected from productive parts of the country and redistributed according to outdated and unfair formulas, regions will now benefit more directly from their own productivity.
And this is the real reason why the Fulani oligarchy is mad. They’re not just upset. They are furious. Because for decades, their power has depended on a centralized system where they could control the country’s wealth from Abuja and distribute it to maintain their dominance. They are now watching helplessly as Tinubu dismantles this system brick by brick.
One of the most significant moves President Tinubu has made is the passage of the Tax Reform Bill. For years, the population figures of states were the primary basis for revenue allocation. This meant states with little economic output but high population counts—real or inflated—got more money. But with this reform, productivity is now the standard. That changes everything. If a town like Nnewi generates revenue through manufacturing, trade, or even beer sales, a large percentage of that money stays in Nnewi. Before now, it would have been moved to states like Kano or Zamfara, which often openly reject some of the economic activities they still benefit from.
That single reform sent shockwaves through the Fulani power base. The oligarchy quickly mobilized their political foot soldiers and their governors to raise alarm and cry foul. But President Tinubu remained unmoved. The bill passed, and the system began to shift. For the first time in a long time, economic justice was beginning to take root in Nigeria. And the Fulani oligarchy was not having it.
But that wasn’t all. Tinubu began removing their control over major national institutions. The NNPC, long regarded as a cash cow for corrupt elites, was taken from their grip. The leadership of Ajaokuta Steel Company, Customs, NIMASA, the Nigerian Ports Authority, the Nigerian Mint where the naira is printed, and other key money-spinning agencies were all changed. The Fulani elite that had built political empires from these institutions suddenly found themselves unplugged from the source of their wealth.
Then came a game-changer: the establishment of the Ministry of Livestock Development. It sounded ordinary on the surface, but the implications were deep. By promoting ranching and modern livestock farming, the Tinubu administration was preparing the country to end the age-old culture of open grazing. This single act threatens the nomadic lifestyle of the Fulani, who traditionally move cattle across regions along ancestral grazing routes. Now, with laws and institutions pushing for controlled animal husbandry, that culture—and the political control it brought—is facing extinction.
Still not done, Tinubu is backing a bill that seeks to return Nigeria to regional government. A structure that decentralizes power and gives each region control over its own affairs. This is the very thing the Fulani oligarchy has resisted for decades. They do not fear competition. They fear fairness. Because they know that in a fair system, they cannot dominate. In a fair system, their hold on power crumbles. And now, Tinubu is pushing that fairness to the center of national governance.
What makes Tinubu even more dangerous to them is that he is not easily controlled. Unlike some of his predecessors from the South who were manipulated and micromanaged by Northern elites, Tinubu is his own man. He’s not bending to their demands. He’s not playing their game. And that infuriates them even more. They cannot control him like they did to others. He didn’t just talk restructuring—he is doing it.
Take the foreign reserves for instance. Tinubu inherited just $2 billion. Today, those reserves are over $45 billion. He didn’t achieve that by magic but through deliberate reforms, tough decisions, and financial discipline. For years, foreign companies like MTN and major airlines were unable to repatriate their profits due to Nigeria’s dollar shortage. Under Tinubu, those debts were cleared. The economy, slowly but surely, is being stabilized. But these achievements don’t interest the Fulani oligarchy. All they care about is that the power is no longer in their hands.
As their influence slips, they’ve resorted to dirty tactics. They have recruited failed, desperate, and overambitious politicians from the South—men and women willing to sell their people for crumbs of power. These collaborators have become the voice of the oligarchy, shouting louder than the North itself against Tinubu’s reforms. They pretend to speak for the masses, but in truth, they serve only themselves and their masters.
And then there’s Peter Obi. A man many believe represents a new hope. But let’s be honest—will he implement fiscal federalism or regionalism if given the presidency? The truth is, he won’t be allowed to. His ambition has already been conditioned. Promises have been made behind closed doors. Agreements signed. Even if Obi meant well, he would be too boxed in to make meaningful change. Besides, reports already say he accepted to do just four years for the North. In that short time, what can he change? And even if he tried, would they let him?
The battle against President Tinubu is not about corruption, performance, or leadership style. It’s about power. Raw, unchecked power that has sat in the hands of a few for too long. And now that power is slipping. It is slipping because Tinubu is breaking the chains. He is redistributing not just money, but authority, influence, and opportunity. He is returning power to the people—not just to Lagos or Yoruba land—but to every part of Nigeria that has long been sidelined. And most interestingly, the Indigenous Hausa people in the North—the true majority—are waking up to this fact.
For too long, they have lived under the rule of the Fulani elite. Their resources have been taken. Their voices silenced. Their future mortgaged for political gain. But now, they too are calling for restructuring. They too are seeing that the enemy is not the South, not the East, not even the West—but the tiny clique that has used Nigeria’s diversity as a weapon to divide and conquer.
That’s why this fight is bigger than Tinubu. It’s about the soul of Nigeria. It’s about whether a small elite can continue to dictate the fate of over 200 million people. It’s about whether true federalism will finally take root. It’s about whether regions can rise based on merit, productivity, and innovation rather than on political favoritism and tribal hegemony.
In all of this, President Tinubu stands firm. He knows what he is up against. He understands that the forces against him are not just political but systemic. But he is undeterred. He is focused. And he is moving forward.
This is why we must open our eyes. We must not be misled by propaganda and orchestrated discontent. We must see through the noise and recognize the silent revolution that is happening. A revolution that seeks to return Nigeria to its people, to its regions, to its roots.
Let us not allow enemies of progress to derail this moment. Let us not be used as pawns by those whose only interest is to continue milking the nation dry. Let us protect what is ours. Let us support a system that rewards hard work, that recognizes fairness, and that upholds justice.
Because if Tinubu fails—not because of incompetence, but because of sabotage by those afraid of change—then Nigeria fails with him. The opportunity may not come again in a long time.
We must rise. We must speak. We must stand. Not for Tinubu as a person, but for what he represents—freedom from oligarchy, justice in governance, and the beginning of a truly united Nigeria where every region thrives on its own strength and contributes to a better whole.
That is the Nigeria we’ve dreamed of. That is the Nigeria the Fulani oligarchy fears. And that is why they want Tinubu gone—at all cost. But this time, the people must choose differently. This time, we must not be silent.
Idowu Ephraim Faleye writes from Ado-Ekiti +2348132100608
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