The fallout from the suspension of former Jigawa State Governor Sule Lamido exposes deeper fractures within the People’s Democratic Party (PDP), Nigeria’s main opposition party, as it struggles to define its identity and direction ahead of the 2027 general election. Deputy Political Editor RAYMOND MORDI reports
When Nigerians heard that Sule Lamido had been “suspended” by the Board of Trustees (BoT) of the People’s Democratic Party (PDP), many saw it as a sign of renewed crisis within the country’s former ruling party. For Lamido, a former Jigawa State governor, foreign affairs minister, and founding member of the PDP, the situation highlights his ongoing struggle to stay loyal to a party that is uncertain about its future and unity.
At 77, Lamido is regarded as an experienced political figure, having witnessed various crises. However, the current circumstances present significant challenges. The PDP is trying to manage the aftermath of its defeat in the last general election. Today, internal divisions have raised concerns about its cohesion.
Rival factions, competing conventions, court injunctions, and police presence at its national secretariat—the Wadata Plaza—reflect ongoing institutional difficulties. Lamido, often described as the party’s conscience, now faces accusations of disloyalty from those he says are undermining its integrity.
The reported suspension, which seems to have been driven by a BoT linked to the same group as Federal Capital Territory Minister Nyesom Wike, came at a key moment. Lamido had just said, again, that if the PDP could not resolve its issues, it would need to join forces with other opposition parties before the 2027 general election. This idea caused tension: critics saw it as unacceptable, but Lamido saw it as realistic.
“This party was created to save Nigeria from authoritarian drift,” he told associates shortly before the suspension story broke. “If it now becomes an instrument of ego and vendetta, then we must ask ourselves what exactly we are preserving.”
A suspension without agreement
The first question in Lamido’s case is whether his suspension really means anything. The PDP is not united enough to enforce discipline. There are at least two leadership groups: one following Wike and the other supporting Governors Seyi Makinde and Bala Mohammed. Conflicting court orders and different groups of governors and party elders make this worse.
A top PDP lawyer, who didn’t want to be named, calls the suspension “questionable.” He asks, “Which BoT? The one all-party groups agree on, or just a faction? To discipline someone, you need clear authority. Right now, that’s missing.”
Even some people in the Wike group privately admit the timing was poor. “It looks like punishment, not correction,” says a former party leader. “Lamido wasn’t really accused of going against the party. He was sharing a political idea. Suspending him makes it seem like free speech isn’t allowed.”
For Lamido’s supporters, the suspension reinforces his long-standing argument that the PDP has lost its internal democratic culture. “This is not about discipline,” says one Jigawa-based party leader. “It is about silencing a voice that refuses to submit to the logic of patronage.”
Backing this sentiment, the Jigawa State chapter of the PDP publicly rejected the suspension. In an interview with our reporter, its Publicity Secretary, Umar Jitau Madamuwa, described it as “laughable and the joke of the century,” adding that “The PDP constitution has no provision for the suspension of a Life Member.”
He further argued that Lamido “remains one of the few founding fathers of the party who has devoted his life, energy, and resources to sustaining the PDP’s strength, unity, and popularity since its inception in 1998.”
Meanwhile, the crisis has already led to people leaving the fold. Several governors and lawmakers elected on the PDP platform have joined the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC), and Governor Ademola Adeleke has moved to the Accord Party. Former vice president Atiku Abubakar, who once led the anti-Wike group, has also left for the African Democratic Congress (ADC), widening the leadership gap.
Lamido: The making of a party man
To understand why Lamido chose to remain suspended rather than leave, it helps to look at his political life, which has been shaped more by loyalty to groups than by personal gain.
Lamido is part of Nigeria’s older political generation, shaped by years of military rule and the move toward civilian government. He first became known during the aborted Third Republic as a member of the Social Democratic Party (SDP) who opposed military rule. That experience, with parties being shut down or controlled by those in power, had a lasting impact on him.
When Nigeria returned to civilian rule in 1999, Lamido helped found the PDP. The party was meant to unite the country after years of military rule. For Lamido and his peers, the PDP was more than just a way to win elections; it was meant to prevent power from being concentrated in the hands of a few.
As Nigeria’s foreign minister from 1999 to 2003, Lamido defended the country’s independence and spoke out boldly, earning a reputation for standing by his beliefs, even when it cost him.
As governor of Jigawa State from 2007 to 2015, he managed party affairs closely and became known as a strict leader who valued order. He stayed with the PDP, even though many of his peers switched to the APC after the party lost power in 2015.
His decision to stay shaped his reputation. In Nigerian politics, switching parties is often seen as necessary to survive. Lamido’s choice to remain with the PDP, even when overlooked, set him apart. Supporters call it loyalty, while critics say he is stubborn. Both sides agree he sees politics as a long-term effort built on group loyalty, not quick wins. He recently took the Makinde/Mohammed faction to court for denying him the right to vie for the party’s national chairmanship.
This background explains why Lamido is critical of changes he sees in the PDP’s internal workings. For him, the current dispute is more than a fight between factions; it challenges his belief in the lasting value of political parties beyond personal ambition. It also shows why he stays involved, even while suspended.
The APC question
People are once again asking if Lamido will do what many Nigerian politicians do when sidelined: join the ruling APC. For years, APC leaders have suggested he would be welcome.
Lamido has firmly rejected the idea. He says he is not in talks with the APC and continues to criticise President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s government. “If he planned to join, he would be speaking differently,” says a close ally. “Instead, he has become even more outspoken.”
Observers agree that joining the APC would not fit Lamido’s image. “Lamido shows a part of the PDP history that treats the party as more than just a ticket,” says Dr Sam Amadi. “Joining the APC would damage the respect he earned by staying when others quit.”
Age also plays a role. Lamido belongs to a generation of politicians, like Olusegun Obasanjo, who still talk about party ideals, even if those ideals are less powerful now. For them, leaving is not just a strategy; it feels like an admission of defeat. “He would rather lose while fighting than win by switching sides,” says a former diplomat who has known Lamido since the 1990s.
Having resisted calls to defect, a new question arises: can Lamido remain effective in the PDP while suspended, or must he work from the sidelines?
Lamido does not seem worried about the suspension. In private, he has said that being suspended in a divided party is mostly for show. “You can’t suspend someone from a group that doesn’t know who leads it,” he reportedly told visitors in Abuja.
According to his aides, Lamido has a two-part plan. First, he wants to challenge the suspension through the party’s process and, if needed, in court—not just to clear his name, but to show that some party decisions are unfair. Second, he will continue talking with party leaders across Nigeria, especially those concerned about the PDP’s direction but hesitant to confront the powerful groups in charge.
Some governors quietly support this approach. “He says what many of us can’t say in public,” says an aide to a PDP governor. “He takes the criticism, which helps create space for discussion.”
Others disagree. A younger party adviser says Lamido’s ideas are outdated. “This isn’t 2003,” he says. “Good ideas don’t change party power now. Only real influence matters.”
The alliance gambit revisited
Lamido’s push for alliances with other opposition parties is at the centre of his current problems, and it has unsettled the PDP leadership. With his long experience in Nigerian politics, Lamido argues that alliances do not mean giving up. “There is a difference between an alliance and a merger,” he has said many times. “We are not dissolving the PDP. We are trying to save democracy.”
His argument, laid out in recent meetings with party leaders from Jigawa State and beyond, is that the opposition cannot afford to fragment its vote in 2027 while the ruling party consolidates power. Alliances, he says, are a pragmatic response to political arithmetic, not an admission of weakness.
Analysts support this view. “The PDP no longer has the national coherence it once enjoyed,” Amadi says. “An alliance may be the only way to stay relevant in elections.” Civil society activist Auwal Musa Rafsanjani adds that if the opposition cannot work together, Nigeria could end up with one-party rule.
Inside the PDP, though, the idea of alliances is sensitive. Some leaders worry that alliances would weaken their control over candidate selection and resource management. Others see it as admitting that the PDP can no longer win alone.
“The irony,” says a senior party member who asked not to be named, “is that by refusing alliances, they might be making themselves irrelevant.”
What options remain?
Lamido’s immediate options are limited but still matter. He can keep fighting the suspension, hoping that courts will eventually overturn it. He can focus on being an internal critic, using moral pressure even without official power. Or, he could step outside party structures and become a leader of opposition talks, acting as an elder statesman across party lines without leaving the PDP.
Some of his allies think the last option is becoming more appealing. “He does not need an office to bring people together,” says one. “His name still carries weight.”
For now, Lamido seems ready to keep going within the PDP, whether suspended or not. Those close to him say he sees this as his last political fight—not for a position, but to save the party he helped create. “History will judge us,” he has told confidants, “not by whether we won elections, but by whether we defended democracy when it was under threat.”
A test beyond one man
Ultimately, Sule Lamido’s situation raises more profound questions about the future of the PDP, not just his own political fate. It shows the PDP’s struggle to redefine itself after years of decline. Is the party still able to accept different views and adapt, or has it become a battleground for rival groups with little interest in principles?
The answer will shape Lamido’s next steps and could affect Nigeria’s politics before 2027. If the suspension quietly disappears, as many expect, it will show how weak factional authority is. If it leads to Lamido being pushed out, it could accelerate the party’s breakup, as he warned.
For now, he waits, speaks out, and refuses to leave. In a political scene where change is constant, Sule Lamido’s boldest move may be simply choosing to stay.
