THIS DAWN — The recent indictment of 16 senior military officers in connection with an alleged coup plot has once again exposed the deep fractures within Nigeria’s political and ethnic landscape.
What is striking is not merely the northern dominance among the indicted officers, but the deafening silence from the Yoruba political class—even as President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, himself a Yoruba man, sits at the helm of power.
The Indicted Officers
The list of those implicated reads like a roll call of northern Nigeria’s military elite:
- Brigadier General Musa Abubakar Sadiq (Nasarawa, 44th Regular Course)
- Colonel M. A. Ma’aji (Niger, 47th Regular Course)
- Lieutenant Colonel S. Bappah (Bauchi, 56th Regular Course)
- Lieutenant Colonel A. A. Hayatu (Kaduna, 56th Regular Course)
- Lieutenant Colonel Dangnan (Plateau, 56th Regular Course)
- Lieutenant Colonel M. Almakura (Nasarawa, 56th Regular Course)
- Major A. J. Ibrahim (Gombe, 56th Regular Course)
- Major M. M. Jiddah (Katsina, 56th Regular Course)
- Major M. A. Usman (FCT, 60th Regular Course)
- Major D. Yusuf (Gombe, 59th Regular Course)
- Major I. Dauda (Jigawa, DSSC 38)
- Captain I. Bello (DSSC 43)
- Captain A. A. Yusuf
- Lieutenant S. S. Felix (DSSC)
- Lieutenant Commander D. B. Abdullahi (Nigerian Navy)
- Squadron Leader S. B. Adamu (Nigerian Air Force)
The overwhelming northern representation is impossible to ignore.
It raises questions about regional loyalties, the balance of power within the armed forces, and the political calculations underpinning Nigeria’s fragile democracy.
Yoruba Silence
Yet, what is equally troubling is the silence from Yoruba leaders, intellectuals, and political actors.
One would expect that with a Yoruba president under threat, the region’s voices would rise in defense of democratic order.
Instead, there has been a muted response—an almost studied indifference.
Why this silence? Some argue it is rooted in political pragmatism.
The Yoruba elite, long accustomed to navigating Nigeria’s complex ethnic chessboard, may fear that speaking out too loudly could inflame tensions or expose them to retaliation.
Others suggest that Tinubu’s presidency, though Yoruba in identity, has not translated into tangible benefits for the region, leaving many unconvinced that his survival is worth their political capital.
The Northern Grip
The alleged coup plot underscores the enduring grip of northern elites on Nigeria’s military establishment.
Despite decades of calls for restructuring and balance, the officer corps remains heavily skewed.
This imbalance has historically given the north disproportionate influence in moments of crisis.
For many observers, the current situation is a reminder that Nigeria’s democracy rests on shaky foundations.
When military officers from one region dominate coup allegations, it signals not just disloyalty to the state but also the persistence of ethnicized power struggles.
President Tinubu faces a paradox. He is a Yoruba leader presiding over a nation where the military’s upper ranks remain northern-heavy.
His silence—and that of his Yoruba base—may reflect an uncomfortable truth: the Yoruba political class knows that the levers of coercive power are not in their hands.
Speaking out too forcefully could invite backlash from entrenched northern networks within the armed forces.
This dilemma exposes the fragility of Nigeria’s federal arrangement.
A president from one region may hold the constitutional mantle of leadership, but the real instruments of power—guns, barracks, and command structures—often lie elsewhere.
The Cost of Silence
But silence has consequences. By failing to speak up, Yoruba leaders risk normalizing the idea that coups are merely northern affairs, detached from the rest of the country.
This not only undermines national unity but also erodes confidence in democratic institutions.
Moreover, silence emboldens those who see Nigeria’s presidency as a revolving door controlled by regional cabals.
If Yoruba voices remain muted, it sends a dangerous signal: that even when one of their own is in power, they will not defend him against existential threats.
The indictment of 16 northern officers for coup plotting is a watershed moment.
It exposes the ethnic imbalance in Nigeria’s military and highlights the precariousness of Tinubu’s presidency.
But perhaps most telling is the Yoruba silence—a silence that speaks volumes about Nigeria’s fractured politics.
In a democracy already weakened by corruption, insecurity, and economic hardship, silence is not neutrality. It is complicity.
If Yoruba leaders cannot defend a Yoruba president against a northern-dominated coup plot, what hope is there for Nigeria’s unity?
The lesson is clear: democracy cannot survive on silence. It demands voices—loud, courageous, and unyielding.
Until the Yoruba elite find theirs, Nigeria will remain a nation where power is seized, not shared, and where silence is the loudest betrayal of all.
