President Goodluck Jonathan must have realised by now that whoever advised him to accept the result of the March 28 presidential election, concede defeat, and congratulate President-elect Muhammadu Buhari, is his best friend.
But if he took that decision all alone, then he must be wiser than most people give him credit.
As he acknowledged when he told his ministers and aides to brace up for hard times at a thanksgiving and farewell service – held in his honour at the Cathedral Church of Advent, Gwarinpa, Life Camp Abuja, on Sunday, May 10 – the night of long knives is not just nigh, it is here.
It is bad enough that friends are deserting him in droves, though that is expected. After all, is it not said that failure is an orphan? But it would have been worse if he had done what some people who claimed to be his friends advised him to do – reject the result.
I can imagine the confusion in the house on that day, some people telling him that it would be too cowardly to concede; reminding him that he is the President and Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, the most powerful Presidency in the whole wide world, we are often told.
I can imagine the coterie of rent seekers telling him that no incumbent Nigerian president had ever lost election, and reminding him that one of his predecessors, Olusegun Obasanjo, not only successfully wangled a second term but also wanted a third term to boot.
Those who prodded Jonathan to reject the result being announced by the Chairman of the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC), Attahiru Jega, must have told him that with the service chiefs absolutely loyal to him, he had nothing to fear.
They must have inundated him with stories of how the elite in the North, who are mortally afraid of Buhari, would rather prefer his continuing in office to risking a Buhari Presidency.
They must have reminded him of what happened in 2011, the post-election violence that was quickly contained and restricted to only a part of the North.
I can imagine the confusion in Jonathan’s mind at this hour. People must have told him that if he let go, he would be letting the Ijaw nation, South South, and by extension the entire South, down. He would be succumbing to Moslem blackmail and putting Christians on the leash to be dragged to the slaughter.
They must have reminded him that every leadership position comes from God and He made him president for a purpose and how he would be disobeying God if he chickened out of the race.
And then, the small voice that told Jonathan to ignore all the advice, reminding him of his public declaration that no one’s ambition is worth the blood of any Nigerian. And then, the magic moment – the call to Buhari to congratulate him.
I can visualise the peace of mind, the relief thereafter. It takes only a man whose palm kernel is always cracked by benevolent spirits like Jonathan to spurn these enticing entreaties.
It was the unseen hand of God that pulled not only Nigeria but the president from the precipice.
Jonathan was lamenting that his friends, and most of those who survived on government patronage in the past five years that he has been in power, have already deserted him.
What he has not realised is that it could have been worse if he had kowtowed to their self-serving advice to defy the will of the people as expressed through the ballot box instead of listening to the inner voice that restrained him.
Yes, he is hurting from the sudden realisation that his friends have deserted him. But he is still holding his head high because of the commendations he is getting from within and outside Nigeria for doing what was thought to be impossible – being gracious even in defeat.
But these are yet early days. There will be more asinine denials. In the months and years to come when Jonathan will be in no position to dispense patronage, tale bearers will emerge with stories of how daft he was, how he listened to nobody, and was the architect of his own misfortune.
The betrayals are still in their early days. For whatever it is worth, the president is still in office. He can still hire and fire. So, to that extent, he will still have good company. There are still last minute political patronages to be dispensed.
Despite the fact that he knows the eyes of the incoming government are sharply focused on Aso Rock, there are last minute political cheques to be cashed.
So, the days of loneliness are not here yet. It will probably start when Jonathan relocates to Otuoke, his home town in Bayelsa after May 29.
The crowd that will follow him will be much smaller and will continue reducing until it gets to a level where, for weeks, he will only make do with the company of his wife.
The transformation will start from May 29 when he will have to leave for the airport early enough if he does not want to miss his flight. I am not sure he has bought his own private jet, but even if he has, he must get to the airport before boarding it.
What happens now is that even if the president is taking his bath, the entire stretch of road from Aso Rock to the Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport, Abuja is locked down by security men.
Ordinary mortals are not supposed to be on the road when their president is. Even when the president is airborne, airports are closed to other passengers. It is called “VIP Movement.”
There may no longer be helicopters stationed to ferry the president from Port Harcourt International Airport or from a helipad in Yenagoa, Bayelsa State capital, to Otuoke.
Oh, come to think of it, Jonathan will be celebrating his 58th birthday on November 20. That will be six months after leaving office. We will wait to see how many people will place congratulatory adverts in newspapers for him.
At least half of those who bought space in newspapers to congratulate him last year will not even remember to send him text message or call him on that day.
What about business partners? That is another story. Because it is easier today to track down money laundered through the banking system, most leaders use business fronts to execute contracts and launder money while they are in government.
Most of the noveau riches prancing around in the country are nothing more than “money couriers” for the high and mighty. For their efforts, they are well taken care of. But some get greedy and would rather seize the entire business when their principals are out of office and are no longer in any position to punish them.
If Jonathan is lucky, that may not be his fate. But if he is not, he won’t be the first former Nigerian leader to find himself in such an unsavoury situation.
All these experiences emphasise one salient point – power is transient. No matter how long you stay in office, at the end of the day, it is ephemeral.
What endures are the legacies one leaves behind, the unmistakable footprints on the sands of time.