Presidential Curse? The President Everyone Praised… Until They Didn’t
By Haroon Aremu
This piece for me is an unfiltered reflection on Nigeria’s cycle of praise, anger, and political amnesia. For those who observe closely, there is a familiar rhythm in Nigeria’s political, air one that repeats itself like a drumbeat that never forgets its pattern.
Every president arrives like a promise wrapped in optimism. Streets echo with belief, headlines glow with possibility, and citizen tired from yesterday’s hardship cling to tomorrow’s speech like it might finally be the turning point. But somewhere between inauguration and mid-tenure reality, the tone shifts.
Suddenly, the same voices that once applauded begin to question. Then criticize. Then condemn. And eventually, curse. This is not just about one leader. It is about a pattern Nigeria seems trapped in.
The question is, is there a Messiah or Saint in politics? From military heads of state to civilian presidents, from the early republics to the current democratic era, the script has remained eerily consistent: euphoria at the beginning, exhaustion in the middle, and anger at the end. And then, history resets itself.
There was a time when Nigerians spoke about leadership with conviction, almost certainty. Some leaders were hailed as “saviors,” others as “disciplinarians,” and some as “messiahs of change.”
Olusegun Obasanjo, for instance, entered office as a returned military ruler turned democrat, widely seen as a stabilizing figure at the dawn of the Fourth Republic, praised for consolidating civilian rule and restoring Nigeria’s international standing. Yet by the end of his tenure—and even more sharply after it—public sentiment became deeply divided, with critics accusing him of overreach, controversial political influence, and governance decisions that sparked national debate.
Similarly, leaders like Goodluck Jonathan were once celebrated for calmness, humility, and a historic acceptance of electoral defeat, only to later face criticism over insecurity, corruption allegations within the system, and economic challenges during his administration.
Even President Muhammadu Buhari once widely embraced with hope and the symbolism of integrity and anti-corruption entered office with overwhelming public expectation. But as the years unfolded, the narrative changed. Support turned into scrutiny. Scrutiny turned into frustration. And frustration, for many, turned into disappointment.
Is the leader failing the people, or are the people gradually discovering the weight of leadership they never fully understood? Just like I analysed in my previous article titled “Will your PVC Change Nigeria or Just Change the Blame?
President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s era is already walking the same tightrope. When he assumed office, expectations were high some realistic, some emotional, others almost mythic in nature.
But governance is not a campaign slogan. It is arithmetic, compromise, pressure, and often unpopular decisions.
As reforms bite, inflation rises, and economic adjustments reshape daily survival, public sentiment has begun to tilt. Praise has not disappeared but it now sits beside anger, memes, criticism, and open backlash.
In fact, the backlash is not for him alone, but even his family. The First Lady (Iya Alakara), as called by the President himself, and even the First son, Seyi Tinubu.
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Yet beneath all the noise lies a deeper question no one seems eager to confront: is this backlash unique or is it simply the early chapter of a familiar Nigerian political cycle?
There is a recurring irony in Nigeria’s political consciousness: leaders are often judged as though they govern in isolation from inherited systems.
Every new administration is expected to fix decades of structural decay in record time, with limited resources, competing interests, global pressures, and internal political machinery that often resists reform itself. And when expectations collide with reality, disappointment becomes inevitable.
But here is the uncomfortable truth: Nigeria does not just suffer from leadership challenges. It also suffers from collective expectation inflation, a condition where citizens demand rapid transformation from problems that took decades to form.
Why do every president eventually becomes the problem? There is a psychological loop at play in public perception: Hope elects the leader, reality challenges expectations, sacrifice replaces comfort, frustration seeks a target, the president becomes the symbol of failure. This pattern repeats regardless of ideology, region, or personality.
Even the most well-intentioned reforms often feel like punishment in the short term. And in politics, short-term pain rarely earns long-term patience.
This is where the illusion begins to crack. Every election cycle produces a new “this time is different” narrative. A new figure emerges branded consciously or unconsciously as the one who will finally “fix it.”
But governance is not messianic. It is structural. And no single individual no matter how experienced, charismatic, or determined can override decades of institutional weakness, economic dependency, and political fragmentation overnight.
So the real question is not: Who will save Nigeria? But rather: Are Nigerians prepared for the long, uncomfortable process of building what they expect to appear instantly?
It is easier to curse a president than to confront systemic realities. It is easier to label failure than to understand constraints and it is easier to switch from praise to anger than to sustain informed civic patience. But leadership is not a performance that resets every four years. It is a continuum of struggle, compromise, and incomplete victories.
And yet, citizens are not entirely wrong either. Accountability is necessary. Criticism is essential. Pressure is healthy in any democracy. The danger lies not in criticism but in perpetual disappointment without reflection.
It is not whether Nigerians will continue to criticize presidents, they will. It is not whether future leaders will face backlash, they will. But will Nigeria ever break the cycle where every president starts as hope and ends as disappointment?
Or will history continue to repeat itself, with each administration becoming another chapter in the same emotional story, hope, struggle, anger, and regret?
Just perhaps, the greatest political challenge Nigeria faces is not just leadership but collective patience with reality.
Until that balance is found, the cycle will remain unchanged: Every president will arrive as a promise and leave as a debate. I hope you won’t later lay curse on that Candidates of yours who you believe to have solutions to all Nigerian problems. As for me, I will always look up to God.
Haroon Aremu ANIPR is an Associate member of the Nigerian Institute of public relations and wrote in via [email protected].
