Tensions may arise over who flies the flag in 2027. Will Atiku, despite failed attempts, push for a final run? Will Obi’s supporters tolerate another political compromise? Can figures like el-Rufai and Amaechi subsume their regional ambitions for a common cause? The coalition’s survival hinges on honest conversations, internal consensus, and a willingness to place national interest above ego.

Beyond personalities, there is the deeper question of structure and vision. The ADC platform, although now attracting big names, still lacks a clearly defined ideological position. What does it offer beyond being a home for the politically displaced? Without a unifying vision for governance, reforms, and nation-building, internal contradictions will inevitably surface. Many of the current players have diametrically opposed views on critical issues, from fuel subsidy to federalism, security architecture to fiscal decentralisation.

Another looming challenge is zoning and power rotation. The same issue that fractured the PDP and strained the APC may return here with full force. Will the South-East demand the presidential ticket, given Obi’s rising influence? Will the North insist on retaining it for numerical strength? What happens when the two most viable aspirants—Atiku and Obi—both insist on running? Without a fair, transparent, and binding internal mechanism, the coalition may implode before it even gets to the primaries.

Then there’s the matter of trust. Many of the new allies were once fierce rivals or critics of one another. Atiku and el-Rufai share a famously bitter history. Amaechi and Obi have sparred publicly over national issues. Malami, until recently Tinubu’s silent ally, now shares a table with his fiercest critics. The speed with which this coalition came together is impressive, but also suspicious. Nigerians will be watching to see if it’s just a fragile alliance of convenience rather than a genuine front for reform.

And we must not forget the external pressures. The APC under Tinubu is unlikely to sit back and watch the emergence of a credible opposition force without a fight. Already, there are whispers of “divide-and-discredit” tactics: internal sabotage, counter-alliances, and subtle co-optation of key members. The coalition must brace for infiltration, blackmail, and media warfare, all of which are familiar tools in Nigeria’s brutal political theatre.

In the end, survival will depend on three things: clarity of purpose, unity of direction, and sacrifice of personal ambition for collective gain. If the coalition can manage those, it may just rewrite the script in 2027. If not, it will go the way of many before it, more like a firework that lit up the sky briefly, only to fizzle out when it mattered most.

The stakes heading into 2027 are unusually high. Nigeria. Tinubu’s reforms, particularly fuel subsidy removal and currency liberalisation, may be necessary in the long term, but their short-term pain has alienated many.

If the APC can’t hold itself together, and if the new coalition can’t mature beyond a handshake of old rivals, Nigeria risks a 2027 election driven not by hope or policy, but by desperation. And that’s dangerous.

In theory, the ADC coalition has the numbers to win—especially if they repeat the 2023 Atiku-Obi formula in reverse: a Southern candidate with Northern backing. But in practice, their chances depend on how they manage internal rivalries, regional sensitivities, and ego clashes. One wrong move, one poorly handled primary, and it all falls apart.

Caught in the middle of all this is the once-mighty People’s Democratic Party (PDP), now in free fall. The party is facing its most serious existential crisis since it lost the presidency in 2015. Governors and legislators are defecting almost weekly, mostly to the APC in search of relevance, others to the new ADC alliance, hoping to ride its fresh momentum.

The party has no clear direction, no leader capable of holding the centre, and no narrative that resonates with Nigerians suffering under economic hardship. For many of the coalition’s new entrants, ADC is less a new beginning than an escape route from PDP’s crumbling edifice. This raises a critical question: is this coalition simply a dumping ground for displaced political elites who couldn’t secure their ambitions in APC, PDP, or even Labour?

Nowhere is PDP’s identity crisis more glaring than in the figure of Nyesom Wike, former governor of Rivers State and self-proclaimed defender of the PDP constitution. Wike is a walking paradox—a PDP chieftain serving as Minister of the Federal Capital Territory under an APC-led government.

While he claims to still be a loyal party man, his actions consistently embolden the ruling party and undercut the PDP’s moral standing. He has used his ministerial pulpit to undermine Atiku, ridicule Peter Obi, and consolidate a loyal faction within the PDP that is more loyal to him than to the party’s national structure.

Wike’s political maneuvering is not merely opportunistic. It is emblematic of a broader rot within the PDP: a party where discipline is non-existent, ideology is hollow, and loyalty is transactional. Despite openly opposing the party’s presidential candidate in 2023 and allegedly working behind the scenes to sabotage Atiku’s campaign, Wike remains untouchable within the party. That reality alone shows how far the PDP has drifted from its founding ideals.

And it doesn’t stop with Wike. The party’s organs are largely comatose. The Board of Trustees has lost credibility. The National Working Committee is divided and riddled with allegations of compromise. The governors’ forum, which was once the party’s backbone, has become fractured and directionless. With daily defections and no clear pathway to unity or reform, the PDP today is not a party preparing to take power; instead it’s a structure trying to avoid total collapse.

Even within the ADC coalition, former PDP members are viewed with caution. Many are seen as political liabilities that are unable to win their own constituencies or even polling units but eager to secure national tickets. Unless the PDP undergoes a radical restructuring, it is hard to see it surviving the next realignment. If anything, the party is slowly becoming a political orphanage, too weak to contest, too corrupt to reform, and too fragmented to be useful.

Governor Ademola Adeleke of Osun State has confirmed growing speculation about his impending defection from the PDP, stating that he is “still consulting.” His announcement came after a high-level meeting with party leaders, cabinet members, and state and federal lawmakers—all of whom reportedly passed a vote of confidence on him and vowed to follow him wherever he goes.

Adeleke’s exit would mark yet another symbolic and structural blow to a party hemorrhaging from all sides. In fact, his nephew, music artiste Davido, has already hinted at the direction of the governor’s next move, “From Umbrella to Broom”, a clear metaphor for a shift from PDP to APC.

If Adeleke goes through with it, he’ll be the third sitting PDP governor to dump the party in recent months, after Delta State’s Sheriff Oborevwori and Akwa Ibom’s Umo Eno, both of whom have now formally taken over APC structures in their respective states. The PDP is not only losing people; it is losing its territorial grip.

Buhari’s death may be the last push that sets off a chain reaction: an APC unraveling from the inside, a PDP fading into irrelevance, and a new but untested opposition alliance struggling to define itself.

Will the CPC bloc walk away now that its anchor is gone? Will the ADC hold long enough to be more than a coalition of grievances? Will Tinubu’s APC survive this perfect storm?There are no easy answers. But one thing is clear: with Buhari gone, the political chessboard has been reset. Everyone’s next move matters.
Concluded.
Perez is a university lecturer, political analyst, and academic writer.