As Nigerians continue to react to the news of the death of former President Muhammadu Buhari, emotions are understandably high. Social media, television panels, newspaper opinion pages, and beer parlours alike have become arenas of heated debates, some deeply respectful, others vitriolic. But amidst the tributes, criticisms, and conversations, one trend stands out glaringly: the unrelenting blame placed at the feet of Buhari, even in death.
Let me begin by making something very clear. This piece is not an attempt to erase the pain of those who lost loved ones during Buhari’s administration. It is not a dismissal of legitimate grievances. Families who suffered insecurity, economic hardship, or displacement under his tenure have every right to speak their truths. We must never silence pain especially not in a nation where silence has too often been weaponised.
However, as a people, we must pause and ask ourselves: Is Buhari solely responsible for all of Nigeria’s misfortunes? Or have we simply found in him a convenient scapegoat to excuse our collective failings?
Even in death, Buhari is being dragged not just for his policies or governance, but for things far removed from his person. Some have gone as far as to curse him posthumously, attributing the entirety of Nigeria’s economic woes, leadership failures, and societal ills to one man. This, to me, is not only unjust; it is unproductive.
More troubling is the way some sections of the media, particularly from the South, have pounced on isolated images or videos of a handful of individuals celebrating and hastily labelled it as “the North dancing in the streets.” That’s a dangerous and false narrative, a broad brushstroke that paints millions with the actions of a few. The North, like every other region, is made up of diverse people with varied opinions. A community’s moment of grief should not be reduced to cherry-picked street clips amplified by bias.
We must be cautious. Nigeria has suffered enough from divisive narratives, and we should not allow even death to become another fault line. A small group’s behaviour however distasteful should not be used to judge the mood of an entire region. Mourning looks different across cultures, and respect demands we look deeper than trending headlines.
That said, no matter how much one may have opposed Buhari’s style of leadership, or even disliked him personally, there is one truth that must be admitted: you cannot credibly pin corruption or lack of personal integrity to his name. That is why, for many, he earned and retained the title “Mai Gaskiya” (The Honest One). In a country plagued with flamboyant kleptocrats and shameless looters, Buhari stood out for his personal frugality and simple lifestyle. His flaws were many, but stealing from the public purse was never one of them.
The truth is bitter but must be said: Buhari did not govern Nigeria alone. He had ministers, advisers, state governors, lawmakers, and an entire ruling class surrounding him. Many of these same individuals are still in power today, comfortably navigating the corridors of government while Nigerians aim their arrows at a man who is no longer here to answer.
This pattern, this fixation on individual blame has become deeply entrenched in our political culture. We see it time and again. When a president is in office, we hurl every stone at him. When he leaves, we dig up more. Meanwhile, those around him equally complicit, equally powerful walk away unscathed, ready to shape the next administration. It’s a dangerous cycle.
In African culture, we speak of “mutuwa ba ta kare kima” (death does not erase one’s worth). Neither should it erase accountability. But even accountability must be served with balance, with context, and with fairness. History should remember Buhari’s leadership with honesty, not hatred. It should examine his strengths and weaknesses, successes and failures, without reducing his legacy to a single, sweeping narrative of doom.
If we are sincere about national healing, if we truly want progress, then we must move beyond the politics of blame and begin embracing the politics of responsibility. Nigeria’s problems did not start with Buhari, and they will not end with him. The corrupt policeman collecting bribes on the road is not Buhari. The lecturer trading grades for sex is not Buhari. The trader inflating prices without reason is not Buhari. The lawmaker sleeping in the National Assembly while earning millions that, too, is not Buhari.
Until we hold all actors in our national drama accountable including ourselves we will remain stuck in the same loop of disappointment.
There is a proverb in Hausa that says “Idan aka ci tuwo da yawa, kada a dora laifi ga miyar kuka kawai” (when you over eat, don’t blame just the soup). Nigeria is a complex pot of many ingredients. Let us begin to assess each one, honestly and thoroughly.
Buhari has now gone to meet his Maker. Whatever mistakes he made, they are now between him and his Creator. For us, the living, the task remains: to rebuild, to rethink, and to remember that governance is not a one-man affair. If we are to learn anything from Buhari’s years and from the reactions that have followed his death, it is this blame may be easy, but responsibility is what builds nations.
And also remember the teaching of the Holy Prophet Muhammad S.A.W who said, “Do not abuse the dead, for they have reached the result of what they sent forth.”
(Sahih al-Bukhari, Hadith 1393)
May Allah forgive the late Buhari, grant him peace, and guide us all toward truth, justice, and collective progress.
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