As 2027 draws steadily into view, Adamawa’s political atmosphere is thick with rumour, calculation, and chin-scratching manoeuvres. At the centre stands Governor Ahmadu Umaru Fintiri, long regarded as a pillar of the Peoples Democratic Party, PDP, in the state, now reportedly flirting with the idea of crossing over to the All Progressives Congress, APC.
In Nigerian politics, defections are never accidental. They are always strategic. They are always timed. And they are always purposeful.
The question before the APC in Adamawa is not whether Governor Fintiri has a constitutional right to join. He does. The real question is what such a move would mean for the soul, structure, and stability of a party painstakingly built over years of opposition struggle.
A sitting governor does not move lightly. He does not arrive empty-handed. He comes with influence, networks, expectations, and, often, a succession plan.
That is where the “wahala”, to use the well-known Nigerian expression, lies.
The APC in Adamawa is not an abandoned house awaiting a new owner. It is a political fortress shaped by figures such as Nuhu Ribadu Sadiq Walin Ganye, Buba Marwa, Abulrahman Bashir Haske, Solihull Mustapha, men who invested political capital and personal credibility in constructing a viable alternative platform. For years, the party’s loyalists endured electoral setbacks and internal trials with the promise that perseverance would one day yield power.
To open the gates to a long-standing adversary without rigorous negotiation risks signalling that loyalty counts for less than expediency.
If political experience teaches anything, it teaches that politics punishes such perceptions.
A governor in his final term naturally turns his gaze to legacy. Legacy, in many instances, is measured by succession. If the underlying objective of this rumoured defection is to influence or determine who flies the APC flag in 2027, then what appears as expansion may, in fact, be infiltration.
Parties fracture not only over ideology but over ambition. If aspirants who have patiently waited within the APC ecosystem begin to suspect that a newcomer is being positioned to dictate their future, internal combustion becomes inevitable.
It is for this reason that history offers warnings, such as the Adeleke syndrome that manifested in Osun.
● The Adeleke syndrome in Adamawa: A blueprint for failure
When Governor Ademola Adeleke of Osun State was linked with possible alignment discussions involving the APC, resistance from entrenched party structures was swift. The anxiety was not personal. It was structural. A sitting governor entering an established opposition platform carries gravitational pull. That pull can distort internal balance.
The lesson was simple. Integration without clarity breeds suspicion.
Adamawa’s APC must avoid romanticising the optics of high-profile conversion while ignoring the mechanics of coexistence. A governor does not merely join. He negotiates relevance. He seeks leverage. He expects influence.
If that influence extends to candidate selection, party hierarchy or strategic direction, long-standing members may interpret it as displacement rather than growth.
And, in politics, displacement breeds open rebellion.
Political parties survive on morale as much as numbers. An enlarged platform that alienates its core may look impressive on paper while bleeding internally.
● The ethnic time-bomb: Igniting a proxy war disguised as a defection
Beyond ambition lies an even more volatile layer. Adamawa’s politics cannot be separated from its delicate ethnic and traditional architecture. Decisions made at the top ripple through communities with historic sensitivities.
Governor Fintiri’s establishment of new emirates during his tenure had generated divergent interpretations across the state. While some viewed it as administrative reform, others perceived a recalibration of traditional influence.
Within the APC itself, various power blocs exist, including networks aligned with prominent figures such as Nuhu Ribadu. Introducing a powerful external actor into this already intricate equation without consensus risks transforming manageable rivalries into hardened factions.
If sections of the party interpret Fintiri’s entry as part of a broader ethnic-balancing strategy or a counterweight against specific blocs, the consequences could be profound. What is presented publicly as party expansion could privately evolve into a proxy war.
Internal distrust is far more destructive than external opposition.
The APC’s strength in Adamawa has been anchored in its identity as a disciplined alternative. Blurring that identity through a hurried embrace of a former adversary may erode the clarity that energised its base.
There is also a national dimension. Political branding matters. A party that absorbs its fiercest critics without transparent ideological alignment risks appearing transactional rather than principled. Voters may reasonably ask whether party lines still mean anything.
None of this suggests that alliances are inherently wrong. Democracies evolve through coalition-building. But coalitions require structure, safeguards, and shared vision. Without those elements, they become temporary marriages of convenience that collapse under pressure.
The approaching 2027 contest will not be won by arithmetic alone. It will be decided by unity, trust, and coherence. An APC that feels internally displaced cannot campaign with conviction.
Adamawa’s APC, therefore, stands at a defining moment. It must weigh immediate advantage against long-term stability. It must ask whether absorbing a powerful incumbent strengthens the house or shakes its foundation.
Welcoming Governor Fintiri may appear bold. But boldness without foresight can be indistinguishable from a self-inflicted crisis.
In politics, survival belongs not to the largest gathering, but to the most cohesive one. If the APC chooses to open its doors, it must do so with eyes wide open, terms clearly negotiated, and its internal equilibrium firmly secured.
Anything less would not be strategy. It would be guaranteed implosion masquerading as magnanimity.
E-Signed:
Prof Jallo, a political Commentator writes in from Yola
