Aisha Ibrahim
There’s something fascinating about watching loud critics suddenly go quiet when asked to back up their words. Dr. Umar Ardo, former presidential aspirant in the PDP and one-time Adamawa State SDP governorship hopeful, has spent years telling anyone with ears that Muhammadu Buhari’s presidency was a disaster. Television interviews, newspaper columns, social media rants – you name it, Ardo was there, painting Buhari as a leader who single-handedly ruined Nigeria.
So, when someone finally said “Okay, let’s debate this publicly,” you’d think Ardo would jump at the chance. After all, here was his moment to lay out all that evidence he’s been talking about, to finally prove his case in front of a critical audience. Instead, something funny happened. The man who never met a microphone he didn’t like suddenly developed cold feet.
In late April 2025, Dr Udu Yakubu, editor of the monumental five-volume work, Muhammadu Buhari: The Nigerian Legacy (2015-2023), called out Dr Ardo on his claims. A public debate was proposed to examine Buhari’s record. Not to praise him or bury him, just to look at the facts. Ardo agreed. A date was set for June 4, five weeks from when they had the social media engagement. Preparations were being made and expenses incurred towards a public/media debate. Then, just days before the debate, Dr. Ardo pulled out. His excuse? A sudden political trip that must take place on June 4 and just couldn’t be rescheduled. When offered alternative dates, he declined those too. Why would Dr Umar Ardo run away from a debate that was founded on claims and statements he had made over several years?
Let’s talk about what Ardo has actually said, because his words deserve examination. In a 2023 interview and subsequent public commentary, he asserted that the former president achieved nothing for Nigeria. “Whatever achievements he made were personal,” Ardo said, suggesting that Buhari only succeeded in marrying off his children to billionaires and acquiring elite alliances for his family. “But for the country,” he insisted, “he only brought disaster.”
Ardo’s written critiques have been equally sweeping. In essays titled “A failing country: How and why President Buhari lost grip of authority” and “How and Why President Buhari Failed in Leadership,” he painted Nigeria as drifting into a failed state under Buhari’s leadership, citing rampant insecurity and economic decline. He wrote: “By my assessment, President Buhari has, within the last seven years of his rule, virtually thrown Nigeria into a failed state status.” In another piece, “Buhari’s Presidency: Last bus-stop to a revolutionary?” he criticized the President’s initial reluctance to appoint key advisers and ministers, suggesting that this delay hampered effective governance.
Furthermore, Dr. Ardo has expressed personal disappointment, feeling sidelined despite claiming to have made contributions to Buhari’s political journey. He lamented that after aiding in the formation of the APC and supporting Buhari’s candidacy, he was excluded from the administration’s inner circle.
And this is where context comes into play. Ardo’s long-running frustration stems from being left out of Buhari’s appointments. He claims that he worked tirelessly to support the President Buhari in 2015, and clearly believes that he should have been rewarded with access and position. That didn’t happen. And from that moment, a slow but steady transformation occurred. The self-acclaimed ‘loyalist’ became the orphaned ally. The orphaned ally became the bitter critic. And today, we’re dealing not with a neutral analyst, but a man speaking from a place of personal political injury.
This doesn’t invalidate all criticism—politicians must be held accountable regardless of critics’ motivations. But it does require that we examine claims with the skepticism they deserve, especially when those making them refuse to subject their assertions to rigorous debate. So let’s talk about the record, because critics and their criticisms should be fair. Did Buhari govern a utopia? Absolutely not. But to suggest he achieved “nothing” is not just utter dishonesty—it’s a demonstration of the collapse of reason and intellectual capacity.
Start with the economy. Buhari inherited an oil-dependent economy already sliding toward recession before his inauguration in 2015. By 2016, the recession had fully materialized. In response, his administration adopted a mix of conservative fiscal policy, aggressive infrastructure investment, and cautious monetary measures that gradually stabilized the economy.
From 2017 onward, these policies laid the groundwork for recovery. However, new challenges emerged. The COVID-19 pandemic in 2020 threatened to undo these gains, with the World Bank predicting Nigeria’s worst recession in 40 years. Despite this, the Buhari administration acted swiftly, rolling out interventions, credit facilities, and over N2 trillion in bailout funds to support states and small- and medium-sized enterprises. These actions helped Nigeria exit the recession within a single quarter—defying global expectations and showcasing effective crisis management.
Beyond the pandemic, the administration also had to contend with the disruptions of the EndSARS protests and the global economic shocks triggered by the Russia-Ukraine War. Through it all, Buhari’s government demonstrated a degree of economic resilience, guiding Nigeria through multiple crises while maintaining a focus on stability and recovery.
Critics often ignore the infrastructural footprints that now define Buhari’s legacy. The Lagos-Ibadan railway, the completion of the Second Niger Bridge, expanded road networks across the geopolitical zones, and unprecedented investments in agriculture are not hallucinations. They are concrete. They exist. Even international observers, including institutions often critical of Buhari like the IMF, noted Nigeria’s relative stability under his economic stewardship in 2022-2023, especially considering global trends.
The aviation sector also experienced substantial upgrades. New Abuja and Port Harcourt International Airport Terminals were completed in Q4 2018, while the Abuja Airport runway reconstruction was successfully completed within the scheduled six-week period (March – April 2017). These projects enhanced Nigeria’s capacity to handle both domestic and international air traffic, contributing to economic growth and regional connectivity.
Then there is the issue of currency and fuel. Buhari refused to float the naira despite pressure from the IMF and local economists. He believed it would hurt ordinary Nigerians — and he was right. The subsequent administration’s decision to float the naira and remove fuel subsidy overnight has confirmed those fears, with inflation spiking and living standards dipping sharply. By contrast, Buhari maintained a controlled economic environment, rejecting the exact measures that now devastate household incomes. His caution, though unpopular with the elite, was ultimately more pro-people than critics like Umar Ardo are willing to admit.
Even in the realm of corruption, Buhari’s war was far from perfect, but it was not performative. Several high-profile convictions, asset recoveries, and the establishment of TSA and BVN frameworks gave Nigeria better tools for financial accountability. That some politicians escaped justice is a critique of institutional weakness, not intent. But very many, including judges, didn’t escape justice. Buhari, unlike some predecessors, made no secret alliances with godfathers or cartel interests. He was aloof, some said. But in truth, he was alone. And that, for a president who refused to play transactional politics, came at a cost.
All of this is not to say that Buhari was beyond critique. The naira redesign policy, for instance, was poor in implementation. But this is what a public debate is for: to weigh the pros and cons. To separate opinion from fact. And to hold people accountable not just for what they did — but for what they say about others.
The Umar Ardo incident illuminates a systemic problem in Nigerian political discourse: the proliferation of commentators who make bold, often unsubstantiated pronouncements on television, radio, and social media, facing little rigorous challenge. The likes of Reno Omokri and Shehu Sani have been with us for a long time now. The dynamics around their existence foster an information ecosystem where sensational claims thrive while factual rebuttals struggle for attention. As a result, complex policy outcomes are reduced to simplistic and ill-intentioned political narratives, undermining constructive discourses and impairing the public’s ability to make informed judgments about leaders, policies and government.
