The Shame in Celebrating Buhari’s Death
By Matthew Eloyi
The recent news of former President Muhammadu Buhari’s death was met, in some quarters, with an unsettling wave of jubilation. On social media platforms and even within physical gatherings, some Nigerians erupted in celebration, mocking the demise of a man who once held the nation’s highest office. While it is not unusual in politics for legacies to divide opinion, the open celebration of death, no matter the grievances, is a shameful reflection of the moral decay creeping into our national psyche.
Buhari was no saint, and even his most ardent supporters would admit as much. His presidency was marked by economic hardship, worsening insecurity, and perceived ethnic favoritism. Many Nigerians, especially the youth, hold him responsible for missed opportunities and deepening national despair. But none of these justify the public delight at his death. Criticism of his leadership is fair game. Dissection of his policies and failures is necessary. But dancing on his grave is inhumane.
Death should be a moment of solemnity, not a theatre for vengeance. It is a great equalizer; the final curtain before posterity delivers its verdict. When we lose that sense of sanctity, we become something lesser than a civil society. If today we laugh at the passing of a former leader, tomorrow we may cheer at the death of our neighbors — political disagreements turning into blood feuds and mockery of the dead becoming a twisted form of political activism.
In our frustration with bad governance, we must not lose our humanity. Nigeria’s democracy is still young, and its wounds — many inflicted by those who have governed — are deep. But we must be cautious not to allow bitterness to mutate into barbarism. Public officeholders, past and present, should indeed be held accountable through history, public discourse, and if need be, judicial means. But we must draw the line at celebrating death.
Furthermore, to cheer Buhari’s death is to ignore the larger truth: Nigeria’s problems didn’t begin with him, and they certainly won’t end with him. The rot in our system is institutional; a long-standing failure of leadership, followership, and national values. Buhari, with all his faults, was but one chapter in a longer, more painful story. To imagine that his death is cause for celebration is not just shortsighted; it is delusional.
This culture of public cruelty must be checked. We must learn to separate political anger from personal hatred. We must remember that our children are watching, learning, and internalizing our values. If we teach them that it’s acceptable to mock the dead because they were unpopular leaders, we risk raising a generation with no reverence for life, no tolerance for dissent, and no understanding of civility.
We must be better than this. Disagree, critique, protest — yes. But celebrate the death of a man, no matter how controversial his leadership? That is a new low we should not normalize. We are a nation of faiths, of cultures, and of moral codes that teach compassion, even in disagreement.
May history judge Buhari’s presidency with honesty. But may we, the living, remember that our reactions to death speak louder than our political slogans.
