By Idris Muhammed Abdullahi
Dear Garba Shehu,
With due respect to your age, experiences, and personal loyalty, permit me to say—enough. Enough of this relentless effort to canonize former President Muhammadu Buhari as if his presidency were an era of sainthood. It is not only misleading, it is deeply insulting to the millions of Nigerians—especially from the North—who are still nursing the wounds inflicted by his time in office.
This is not an attempt to dishonour the man. Elders deserve respect, and as a former Head of State, President Buhari will always have a place in our history. But when you continue this aggressive whitewashing campaign, you compel us to respond—not out of malice, but out of a duty to the truth.
Let us speak plainly. Buhari did not uplift the masses. His presidency served an elite circle—friends, family, and cronies—while the majority struggled with poverty, rising insecurity, and disillusionment. No press statement, no memoir, and no legacy tour can erase this reality.
You recently claimed that Buhari is “broke” and suggested this as evidence of integrity. That’s not the point. Public office is not judged by how wealthy or poor one leaves, but by the impact one had on the lives of everyday Nigerians. And in this regard, the evidence is damning.
Let’s talk about the North—specifically the Northwest, Buhari’s home turf. When he took office, the region, while challenged, had not collapsed into total insecurity. Today, it reels from the terror of bandits, kidnappers, and insurgents. Entire communities have been uprooted. Farmlands lie fallow. Markets are deserted. Life, for many, is a daily gamble. If this is the legacy you’re asking us to celebrate, then we must ask: what exactly are we honouring?
You portray Buhari’s aloofness as the trait of a humble intellectual. Nigerians, however, saw something else: detachment. In moments of national crisis, his silence was deafening. He was not a showman, yes—but neither was he a communicator, a comforter, or a unifier. His quiet was not noble—it was void. And Nigerians needed a leader, not a ghost.
And let us not revise history when it comes to corruption. Buhari’s administration selectively applied its so-called anti-corruption crusade. Allies were shielded. Critics were hounded. Transparency was dodged. Today, several figures from that administration are facing prosecution or investigation. That is not integrity—it is selective justice.
We understand that your recent book is your account, your narrative, perhaps your legacy project. But do not insult our intelligence, or the collective memory of Nigerians who endured the hardship, economic turmoil, and insecurity of that era. Do not gaslight a nation that still bears the scars.
You say history will judge Buhari kindly. That may be your hope. But history is already being written—in food queues, in destroyed villages, in graveyards, in failed businesses, and in the silent suffering of families who feel abandoned by the very government they once believed in.
We do not wish to dishonour the man. But we will not sit in silence while attempts are made to distort the past. Buhari is not a saint. And if you insist on calling him one, be prepared: Nigerians will respond—with facts, with lived experience, and without apology.
Sincerely,
Idris Muhammed Abdullahi
A concerned citizen tired of revisionist history
