Nigeria’s eighth presidential election, since its return to civil rule in 1999, is parading in February a horde of politicos. All of a bunch, they cut across generations: about 25 percent Millennials; more than half Gen Y’ers, all unborn or at their mothers’ knees after 1960; and some gerontocrats from the Independence Generation.
The pattern also hits one as familiar. Since Independence on October 1, 1960, Nigeria has endured 15 presidents. Most of them were members of a junta of khaki boys who, for five times in 35 years, booted out of office members of a cabal of middle-aged politicians.
As age goes, the topdogs from either side were older than the nation then. Even Gen. Yakubu Gowon, the youngest of them, was 31. His goons shot their way up, and handed him power following a bloody coup that consumed his predecessor Gen. Aguiyi Ironsi six years after Independence. Yak, 25 years older than his country then, has since remained the youngest president Nigeria ever had. Or may ever have.
The reason: Twitter warriors in their millions can’t hand a 36-year-old candidate any electoral win come February. But jackboots and gun butts did in the 60s.
Most Nigerians—count out the Obidients—have, however, sworn by their forefathers no kid general and their grunts will pull that off again. Nigeria’s no Burkina Faso, the rebuke rang when some kids who don’t know they were born were begging the military to strike in 2023.
Dig that?
Now consider the lineup for the next presidential election. You’ll see those ewes dressed as lamb who’ll be duking it out with some ugly ducklings. Add to the latter, if you like, those ne’er-do-wells who’ve been running for ages.
To test their spunk, and chances, check out how old these contenders and pretenders were at Independence.
