As Nigeria’s 2027 presidential race begins to gather steam, a familiar political tactic is resurfacing: the single tenure pledge. This time, it’s being championed by three influential aspirants in the African Democratic Congress (ADC) coalition Atiku Abubakar, Peter Obi, and Rotimi Amaechi—all promising to govern for just one term of four years if elected. Their aim? To strike a delicate balance between individual ambition and the broader strategy of forming a united opposition against the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC).
But far from reassuring, many Nigerians see this pledge as a red flag a desperate, hollow promise in a political landscape littered with broken agreements and unfulfilled commitments.
Rotational Power: A Shaky Foundation
The idea of power rotation is not new. It originated within the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) at its formation in 1998. A gentleman’s agreement never codified in law emerged to alternate the presidency between Nigeria’s North and South every two terms. The intention was to ease ethnic tensions and promote inclusive governance.
But reality has consistently defied this ideal. Nigeria’s political history is riddled with examples of leaders defaulting on rotational agreements particularly when individual ambition, ethnic identity, or raw political opportunity intervenes.
Obasanjo: The Classic Case
Former President Olusegun Obasanjo offers the most prominent example. Ahead of the 1999 elections, he reportedly agreed with Northern power brokers to serve only one term part of a strategy to reconcile with the South-West following the annulment of the 1993 election won by MKO Abiola.
However, after completing his first term, Obasanjo sought and won a second. Worse still, at the end of that tenure, his alleged attempt to push through a third term via constitutional amendment sparked national outrage. Despite his denials, the effort severely tainted his democratic legacy. The episode served as a cautionary tale of how power tends to override promises in Nigerian politics.
Jonathan and the North-South Rift
In 2011, the death of President Umaru Yar’Adua triggered another power-sharing controversy. Goodluck Jonathan, his Southern deputy, completed the term and ran again. Northern elites cried foul, citing a breach of the rotational understanding. Jonathan’s denial of any one-term pledge, coupled with his push for re-election in 2015, cost him credibility and, eventually, the presidency. His ambition fractured the PDP, led to the formation of the “New PDP”, and ultimately fueled the rise of the APC.
Why the One-Term Pledge Doesn’t Hold Water
The 2027 one-term pledges by Atiku, Obi, and Amaechi are widely viewed as mere political rhetoric, not legally binding commitments. Nigeria’s 1999 Constitution grants every elected president the right to seek a second term, and no political deal can override this constitutional right.
Prof. Tayo Bello, a constitutional law expert from Adeleke University, puts it bluntly:
“Politicians can say anything… the Constitution allows any winner of an election to seek re-election. Any single-term pledge is just a gimmick. It cannot hold.”
He cited past cases: Bisi Akande once vowed never to run again but reversed course. Even Obasanjo, initially reluctant, not only ran for a second term but tried for a third.
In Africa, only Nelson Mandela of South Africa has truly honored a one-term pledge. In Nigeria, personal ambition routinely overshadows political principle.
The Trust Deficit
Political analysts agree that repeated violations of these “gentleman agreements” have eroded public trust. For many voters, these pledges feel less like solemn commitments and more like ploys to win power—only to be abandoned at the earliest convenience.
Atiku Abubakar in particular suffers from a credibility gap, seen by many as a serial defaulter of political accords. His image as an opportunist overshadows his appeal as a seasoned statesman.
Peter Obi, despite his popularity and relatively youthful age (he’ll be 65 in 2027), may also struggle to resist a second term bid—especially since the South-East has never produced a president in the current democratic dispensation.
Amaechi, too, would face pressure from supporters and regional interests to contest again if elected. Once in power, incumbents often invoke the “will of the people” or constitutional rights to justify staying on.
Chekwas Okorie: Zoning Is Dead
According to Chief Chekwas Okorie, pioneer Chairman of the All Progressives Grand Alliance (APGA), zoning is no longer a viable concept:
“Even if there is an MOU, there can never be any commitment to such agreement. Zoning has never worked. It’s not in the Constitution… anyone calculating based on zoning is living in the past.”
He argues that pledges of a one-term presidency, especially from someone like Obi who still has time and age on his side, are simply political posturing.
ADC’s Fragile Unity at Risk
The three aspirants—Atiku, Obi, and Amaechi—are locked in a silent but fierce competition for the ADC’s 2027 presidential ticket. While they’ve publicly agreed to support whoever emerges from a “transparent primary,” behind the scenes, personal ambition looms large.
The pledge of a single term is intended to appease others and attract broader coalition support. But if history is any guide, breaking that promise will spark internal crises, defections, legal battles, and possibly the implosion of the party.
A consensus candidate could reduce tension and strengthen the coalition’s electoral chances. Yet with three political heavyweights involved—each convinced of his own viability—the chances of consensus are slim. If ADC proceeds to primaries, it risks internal fragmentation, especially if the outcome is disputed.
Conclusion: Political Realities Over Empty Promises
Ultimately, the idea of a single-term presidency is politically seductive but constitutionally toothless. In the Nigerian context, where ambition trumps ideals and no agreement is legally enforceable unless backed by law, it remains a convenient illusion.
Unless electoral reforms introduce legal constraints or enforceable party frameworks, promises of one-term presidencies will remain campaign slogans—not democratic commitments.
In 2027, voters will do well to judge candidates not by their pledges, but by their track records, institutional reforms, and demonstrated respect for democratic norms.
