Four months after its launch, Nigeria’s opposition coalition, the African Democratic Congress (ADC), has slipped into silence, lawsuits, and regional hesitation. Yet behind the stillness, political realignments may be gathering pace, especially in the North, writes Deputy Political Editor RAYMOND MORDI
When opposition heavyweights converged on Abuja on July 9, 2025, to unveil the African Democratic Congress (ADC) as their new political home, the moment felt historic.
Former governors, lawmakers, and technocrats from the People’s Democratic Party (PDP), Labour Party (LP), and smaller political groups hailed the ADC as a “platform of renewal” — a united front that would finally challenge the dominance of the All Progressives Congress (APC) and President Bola Ahmed Tinubu in the 2027 general election.
The symbolism was unmistakable: a break from the old rivalries that had splintered the opposition. The ADC’s green-and-orange flag fluttered behind the podium as David Mark, two-term Senate President and ex-PDP stalwart, was introduced as interim leader of what organisers called “The Coalition for a New Nigeria”.
Four months later, the applause has faded. The ADC, touted as the masterstroke of Nigeria’s fractured opposition, now finds itself trapped between ambition and inertia, between promise and paralysis.
A coalition gone cold
Some of those who attended that jubilant July launch now harbour the fear that the movement has lost its rhythm. “The momentum just vanished,” said one ADC youth mobiliser in Kogi. “We thought this was going to be like 2013, when the APC merger changed everything. But now, nobody even knows who’s in charge.”
The confusion is not just political; it’s legal. After former national chairman Ralph Okey Nwosu and his executive team endorsed the handover to the Mark-led interim committee, several party members and claimants filed lawsuits at the Federal High Court in Abuja challenging the takeover. Among the plaintiffs were Dumebi Kachikwu, the ADC’s 2023 presidential candidate, and state-level officers who argued that the adoption of the new leadership violated internal party procedures.
In early September, one suit sought an injunction to restrain the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) from recognising the Mark committee. Others followed through late October, producing a tangle of interim orders and justification hearings.
A Federal High Court initially directed the Mark leadership to respond to the complaints and briefly restrained INEC from updating its register. Later, other judges declined further injunctions, leaving recognition in limbo. By mid-September, INEC cautiously published the names of the interim executives while stressing that final recognition would depend on the outcome of the pending cases.
In practice, this ambiguity has paralysed the ADC’s operations. Without full INEC recognition, the coalition cannot legally conduct primaries, open official campaign accounts, or collect regulated donations. Activities remain subdued at its headquarters in Abuja, and its regional offices are still half-staffed.
“You can’t build a coalition on quicksand. Until the courts settle who the real ADC leadership is, everyone is playing safe,” an Abuja-based political analyst told our reporter.
The legal fog has drained morale and resources. Several financiers have reportedly frozen support until the party’s status becomes clear. “Everyone is waiting for clarity before they put money down,” said a Lagos-based campaign consultant. “No one wants to fund a faction that might be voided in court,” he added.
The politics of hesitation
The ADC was conceived as a big-tent refuge for opposition politicians frustrated by internal crises within the PDP and the Labour Party. The strategy was simple: gather disaffected governors, former ministers, and legislators into a single platform strong enough to rival the APC’s machinery ahead of 2027.
However, four months in, the defections have not materialised. Early rumours that Governor Ademola Adeleke of Osun State might cross over were quickly debunked. His spokesperson dismissed the reports as “false and mischievous,” signalling that no sitting governor was willing to take the first leap.
“Everyone is waiting for everyone else. Nobody wants to jump first,” a PDP lawmaker who does not want his name in print told our reporter.
The hesitation extends across regions. In Rivers and Cross River, local PDP figures who initially showed interest in the coalition have gone quiet. In Lagos, an opposition senator described the July event bluntly: “It was a political press conference, not a merger. People are testing the waters.”
By October, the ADC’s social media accounts had gone dormant, its policy committees stalled, and even some early organisers privately admitted that “the energy has dissipated”.
The coalition that promised to unify the opposition has instead exposed how fractured they remain.
Is the North playing games?
To understand the coalition’s next chapter, it helps to look northward. This is the position of Chief Chekwas Okorie, founding national chairman of the All Progressives Grand Alliance (APGA) and an astute observer of political trends in the country. He sees a deliberate ploy in the silence.
“The North has been meeting regularly. They are not as noisy as we are in the South,” Okorie told this reporter. “Politically, they are more strategic. Between now and the end of the year, you will see a major realignment in the North that may favour the ADC.”
According to the APGA founding national chairman, roughly a dozen former ministers from Muhammadu Buhari’s administration have quietly joined or signalled support for the ADC but are keeping their affiliation discreet. “They’re waiting for the right moment — likely when Atiku Abubakar declares his 2027 ambition,” he said.
Okorie added that several northern lawmakers are “under instruction” from political elders to delay public declarations until the region agrees on a unified stance. “The North is not sleeping. When they move, they move together — and that will change the power equation in Abuja,” he said.
This approach stands in sharp contrast to the South, where competing blocs and personalities have diluted focus. While southern politicians debate zoning and structure, the North appears to be quietly organising around shared leverage.
Sectional politics, old and new
The pattern reveals an enduring reality: that Nigeria’s democracy remains tilted along regional lines.
“What I’m seeing,” Okorie warned, “is a deepening of regional consciousness. It’s not about religion — both the President and Vice President are Muslims. It’s about ethnicity and power.”
That perception is grounded in electoral math. In the 2023 election, Tinubu received a substantial number of votes from the North. The result cemented a belief among northern elites that they “made” Tinubu president — and could unmake him.
A Kaduna-based ADC organiser put it more pragmatically: “This is about relevance, not rebellion. The North wants to negotiate from a position of strength. The ADC gives them a new bargaining chip.”
“This is power politics, not party politics. The North is negotiating, not rebelling,” he added.
By early November, multiple meetings had reportedly taken place in Kaduna, Sokoto, and Bauchi to coordinate the northern strategy should Atiku or another northern heavyweight align with the coalition. If that bloc declares en masse before December, it could reposition the ADC as a credible national player.
A northern agenda or national rescue?
Critics describe the ADC as a northern agenda masquerading as national unity — a ‘soft landing’ for Atiku loyalists and ex-Buhari technocrats uneasy about rejoining the APC under Tinubu.
Okorie agrees with the idea. “That’s exactly what it is,” he said. “But it still reflects how our democracy works — through realignment, not ideology.”
However, the coalition insiders disagree with such a portrayal. Dr Aisha Sadiq, a member of the ADC’s policy advisory group, insists the project is national in intent.
“We have structures in all six geopolitical zones,” she said. “Before the July adoption, we held consultations in Enugu, Ibadan, and Minna. The legal noise has overshadowed the quiet work.”
Still, the optics are poor. The ADC’s national secretariat has been largely dormant since September, press briefings have dwindled, and its online presence has almost disappeared.
“Silence is killing the brand,” a media strategist who worked on Peter Obi’s 2023 presidential campaign said. “In politics, perception is everything. Even if you’re reorganising, you must look alive.”
The coalition’s contradictions
Beneath the rhetoric of “renewal”, the ADC carries the contradictions of the political class it seeks to replace. Many of its financiers are veterans of the same establishment politics that dominate the PDP and the APC.
A young ADC member in Enugu put it bluntly: “We’re fighting old battles with old soldiers.”
That identity crisis runs deep. The coalition still lacks a full manifesto or campaign framework. Debates over zoning — whether the 2027 presidential ticket should go to the North or the South — remain unresolved.
“The ADC can’t just be anti-APC,” said a policy analyst in Lagos. “It has to tell Nigerians what it stands for — on jobs, energy, education, and security. Without that, it’s just another platform for ambition.”
Without a clear message, the ADC risks becoming another “Third Force” that fizzles out — like the short-lived Coalition for Nigeria Movement (CNM) of 2018. It began with fanfare and ended in fragmentation.
Reform or regression?
For Chekwas Okorie, the deeper issue is systemic. He argues that Nigeria’s democracy cannot progress without comprehensive electoral reform to break the cycle of regional dominance and voter apathy.
“Our people in the South don’t vote because they believe their votes don’t count,” he said. “That’s why the North keeps controlling the narrative — they show up during elections.”
He urges President Tinubu to pursue reforms while he still has the opportunity. “Goodluck Jonathan ignored calls for electronic voting and only embraced it after losing power,” Okorie said. “Tinubu shouldn’t repeat that mistake.”
The National Assembly is currently debating amendments to the Electoral Act of 2022. Some of the items on the agenda are full adoption of technology, diaspora voting, and campaign finance transparency. Interestingly, both ADC factions — despite their disputes — have called for quick passage of these reforms, one of the few issues that unite them.
That alignment hints at the coalition’s latent potential: beneath its internal noise lies a shared belief that Nigeria’s electoral process must evolve.
Rebuilding from the wreckage
If the ADC is to regain momentum before mid-2026, analysts outline three urgent steps.
One: resolve the legal fog. The leadership question must be settled — either through a negotiated truce or a fast-tracked judicial ruling. Without full recognition from INEC, the coalition cannot function as a legal political entity.
Secondly, it must stage coordinated defections. Instead of scattered individual moves, the coalition needs a single, dramatic moment — governors, senators, and ex-ministers declaring together. “Politics rewards spectacle,” a strategist said. “You have to show strength, not just promise it.”
Finally, it must craft a national message. Nigerians are weary of “anti-someone” politics. The ADC’s challenge is to offer a programmatic alternative built on economic reform, energy transition, security, and electoral integrity — issues that cut across ethnic lines.
If the coalition can do those three things by early 2026, analysts believe it could still become the vehicle for a credible opposition comeback.
A flicker, not yet a flame
Despite its troubles, the emergence of the ADC coalition is a move in the right direction. It keeps alive the idea of a viable alternative to the ruling APC — and in Nigeria’s political culture, symbolism often precedes substance.
“Politics rewards patience, but it also punishes hesitation,” said political analyst Chinenye Madu.
Whether the ADC survives to contest 2027 depends on what happens in the next six months. If Atiku Abubakar or Peter Obi — both still undeclared as of November — choose it as their presidential platform, it could instantly gain legitimacy. If not, it may join the long list of coalitions that promised much and delivered little.
As December approaches, northern insiders foresee “mass registration” drives and quiet meetings aimed at a collective entry once the legal disputes clear. If those manoeuvres succeed, Okorie’s prediction of a “major northern realignment” may yet come true.
For now, the ADC stands suspended — between dream and doubt, between a future it cannot yet claim and a past it has not escaped.
