*By Balarabe Shehu*
The argument advanced in the said piece rests largely on assumptions rather than verifiable facts. While “Godfatherism” is not a new phenomenon in Nigerian politics, the writer failed to objectively show how it applies in the present context.
It is beyond dispute that Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso has, over several decades, mentored Abba Kabir Yusuf. Their relationship is neither incidental nor recent. From his early days as a personal aide where he was widely known as “Abba PA” to his eventual emergence as Governor, Yusuf’s political trajectory has been deeply rooted in the Kwankwasiyya movement.
The question that must be asked is simple: did Governor Yusuf emerge independently, or was he a product of an established political structure? The answer is obviously No. He rose to power on the platform and goodwill of the Kwankwasiyya movement, painstakingly built and sustained over the years by Kwankwaso. Prior to this, he neither commanded an independent political structure nor demonstrated a standalone political base strong enough to secure such a mandate.
Managing and sustaining a political movement like Kwankwasiyya is no small feat. It requires years of grassroots mobilization, ideological consistency, and political resilience, factors the original writer conveniently ignored. To therefore reduce such a structure to mere “personal ownership” is both simplistic and misleading.
Furthermore, the present discourse cannot be divorced from governance realities. Upon assumption of office, Governor Yusuf was vocal in condemning the administration of Abdullahi Umar Ganduje, accusing it of corruption, mismanagement, and betrayal of public trust. Issues such as the controversial dollar video, alleged allocation of public assets to cronies, and the reduction of pensioners’ entitlements were repeatedly highlighted.
To his credit, Governor Yusuf took steps to address some of these concerns, including settling outstanding gratuities reportedly running into tens of billions of naira. However, beyond rhetoric and initial actions, what has become of the numerous investigations and litigations that were meant to bring alleged perpetrators to justice? The silence is telling.
Equally troubling was the early demolition exercise carried out by the administration, barely days into office and before the constitution of a full cabinet. To many, this translated into avoidable economic losses rather than a demonstration of reform driven governance.
The case of the Challawa abattoir and the subsequent investigation panel led by Barrister Muhuyi Rimin Gado further deepens the concern. The sudden political realignments that followed raise fundamental questions about consistency, accountability, and commitment to the very ideals that brought the administration into power.
It is within this context that Kwankwaso’s criticism of the Governor must be understood. Describing such actions as a betrayal is not merely personal, it reflects the sentiments of many within the movement who believe that the mandate given was meant to correct past injustices, not to align with those previously accused of perpetrating them.
This brings us to the central issue: can a leader campaign on the promise of reform, only to later associate with the very forces he once condemned, without raising questions of credibility and trust?
Governor Yusuf owes his political rise not just to an individual, but to a movement and the people of Kano who believed in its ideals. Loyalty, in this sense, is not blind allegiance but fidelity to principles and promises made.
Kwankwasiyya, with or without Governor Yusuf, remains a formidable political force. History itself attests to the resilience of Kwankwaso, who staged a remarkable political comeback long before Yusuf’s emergence on the scene.
In the final analysis, the burden of proof lies not with critics but with the Governor himself, to demonstrate, through actions, that the trust reposed in him has not been misplaced