The Anointment of Jonathan: When Nostalgia Wears a Campaign Tag
By Ameh Abraham
There is a kind of political amnesia that feels suspiciously like strategy. This was the case of the full display at the Transcorp Hilton, Abuja, where the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), or at least a faction of a faction of what used to be a political party, recently decided that the best way to win the 2027 election is to pretend the last decade never happened.
On Tuesday, May 19, 2026, former President Goodluck Jonathan was not just cleared to run. He was anointed. Babangida Aliyu, former Niger State governor and member of the PDP’s Presidential Screening Committee, put it so plainly that it almost sounded honest: “He has been declared and cleared as the candidate. Not “a” candidate, but “The” candidate.
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No screening. No primary. No serious conversations and debates where someone asks critical questions about the power sector or why the Second Niger Bridge took forever. Just a straight flight from memory lane to the ballot box.
A chieftain of the PDP, Umar Sani, later confirmed to Arise TV that Jonathan had already purchased the party’s nomination form. “In politics, what is important is action,” Sani said. “He has done that.” And just like that, Nigerian politics once again demonstrated its favourite national philosophy: when in doubt, recycle.
The Nostalgia Trap
Let us be clear about what is happening here. The Jonathan bet is not a bet on policy. It is not a bet on infrastructure, security architecture, or a twenty-point economic recovery plan. The Jonathan bet is a bet on comparative suffering.
The logic is brutally simple: after nine years of Buhari and nearly four years of Tinubu’s painful reforms, Nigerians will look back at Jonathan’s era (2010–2015) and weep with longing. Fuel scarcity, then, yes. Boko Haram then, yes. But not this. Not the multi-front collapse that has become the new normal.
As one analyst told The Guardian, “Most Nigerians know him and are nostalgic about Jonathan. At the time he left office, many people felt the PDP was underperforming, but Nigerians have now seen the difference clearly.”
It is a compelling argument. It is also dangerous. Because nostalgia, as every good Nigerian knows, is the political equivalent of eating yesterday’s rice and calling it fresh. You forget the hard grains. You forget the stuck pot. You forget that in 2014, the same Jonathan administration was being roundly criticized as incompetent, indecisive, and asleep at the wheel.
But Nigerians have short memories. Or rather, Nigerians have selective memories. And when you cannot afford three square meals, yesterday’s mediocrity begins to look like a golden age.
The African Democratic Congress (ADC), in a statement on its verified X handle, captured this dynamic perfectly. “Jonathan’s possible return will shake the PDP, disturb APC calculations, unsettle Labour Party sympathisers, and force every political camp to rethink strategy,” the party said. “Whether people like him or not, GEJ remains one of the few Nigerian politicians whose name still carries national emotion.”
The Problem of a Divided House
There is, however, a tiny detail that the Tanimu Turaki-led faction of the PDP seems to have overlooked: the party is currently split in more ways than a second-hand phone.
On one side, you have the Turaki-led Interim National Working Committee (INWC). On the other, the Abdulraham Mohammed-led National Working Committee (NWC), backed by FCT Minister Nyesom Wike, a man who has mastered the art of being everywhere and nowhere at the same time. A Supreme Court judgment has invalidated the party’s Ibadan convention, leaving the PDP in that uniquely Nigerian condition of being legally alive but politically comatose.
One analyst described the PDP as “more divided than at any point in its history.” That is saying something for a party that once gave us the phrase “cabal within a cabal.”
So here is the satire: The PDP has handed Jonathan a golden ticket to contest an election while the party itself is fighting over who has the right to hand out golden tickets. It is like boarding a flight when the pilots are still arguing over who holds the valid license.
Umar Sani, however, remains confident. “We are very confident that the matter will be thrown out because you cannot relitigate something that has already been decided upon,” he said, referring to pending legal challenges. That is the kind of optimism that only politics can produce or perhaps only amnesia.
What Jonathan Actually Represents
Let us not be unfair. Jonathan is not a foolish man. He knows that nostalgia is a drug, not a plan. His quiet acceptance of this anointment suggests either supreme confidence or a deep understanding that Nigerian politics rewards audacity over coherence.
But not everyone is buying it. Former Jigawa State Governor Sule Lamido, a PDP chieftain himself, has advised Jonathan to stay out of the race entirely. In a statement posted on his Facebook page, Lamido warned that attempts to drag Jonathan back into active politics could undermine the former president’s reputation as a respected elder statesman.
“It is unfair and ill-opportune to drag his person into the current murky political arena populated by unserious, self-seeking, and self-serving characters,” Lamido wrote. “The call for President Jonathan to hop into the political arena, no matter how well-intentioned, stems from the helplessness and hopelessness Nigeria has found itself in.”
Lamido described the pressure on Jonathan as a “desperation call” reflecting public frustration rather than any coherent political agenda. He urged Jonathan to resist what he called “ego-caressing” appeals from supporters seeking to use his name for political advantage.
That is a striking intervention from within the PDP itself. It suggests that even Jonathan’s own party is not unified in its enthusiasm.
And the warnings go deeper. A senior leader of the Christian Association of Nigeria (CAN), speaking to Vanguard on condition of anonymity, said Jonathan’s return could “overheat the system” and further complicate the opposition’s chances. “I’ve never seen politics like this in my life,” the cleric said. “These are efforts to overheat the system.”
The CAN leader revealed that just a month ago, one of Jonathan’s close associates had assured him that the former president would not run again after family consultations. “But now, he has made up his mind. He wants to contest,” the cleric said. “We will watch and see.”
His fear is that multiple strong contenders from different regions could split opposition support. “Because if Jonathan carries the South-South, Peter will carry the South-East. Atiku and Kwankwaso will split the North, while Tinubu will carry the South-West and some other states,” he explained. “If they go the way they did in 2023, my worry is that the opposition cannot deliver.”
That is the real political math. And it does not favour the opposition.
The Deeper Cut: Vibe Over Vision
Here is the deeper truth that the headlines miss: Jonathan’s real value is not his record. It is his vibe.
In a country exhausted by shouting, by drama, by presidents who give long, angry speeches about enemies and saboteurs, Jonathan offers the quiet of a librarian. He offers a presidency that does not generate daily headlines. And for millions of Nigerians, that silence is beginning to sound like music.
The ADC put it best: “For APC, this is another headache. Tinubu is already battling public anger over hardship, insecurity, inflation, and broken expectations. Now imagine facing a former president with nostalgia value, a soft public image, and a familiar national network. That is not a small challenge.”
But here is the question the PDP has decided not to ask: Is nostalgia enough to govern?
Because governing is not about vibes. It is about choices. And the Jonathan era, for all its comparative peace, was also an era of missed opportunities. An era of drift. An era when the reforms that Tinubu eventually dared to attempt were left untouched because touching them would have been politically inconvenient.
Nigerians may be nostalgic for the feeling of the Jonathan years. But feelings do not fix roads. Feelings do not pay school fees. Feelings do not secure the North-West or power the national grid.
The Verdict: Nostalgia Has Never Paid School Fees
The development says more about the exhaustion of Nigeria’s political establishment than it says about Jonathan himself. A country with over 220 million people, millions of graduates, restless youths, brilliant technocrats, struggling entrepreneurs, and globally competitive professionals has somehow returned to a familiar conclusion: “Maybe let us try the old driver again.”
It is both comedy and tragedy.
When citizens become desperate enough, elections stop becoming contests between visions and become referendums on pain. And by that measure, 2027 will be a referendum like no other. The question is not whether Jonathan can win. The question is whether anyone, Jonathan, Obi, Kwankwaso, or Tinubu can actually deliver something different.
Because the biggest opposition to the Nigerian political class may no longer be another political party. It may be public exhaustion itself.
And exhaustion, unlike nostalgia, does not vote. It simply stays home.
As 2027 approaches, one truth is becoming unavoidable: the PDP has chosen nostalgia. The APC is banking on patience. And the opposition is hoping for a miracle.
But in Nigeria, nostalgia has never paid school fees. Patience has never filled a gas tank. And miracles are not a campaign strategy.
The only question that matters now is whether Nigerians have finally learned to distinguish between the memory of a better past and the possibility of a different future.