How Adeleke Pulled Off His Osun Victory
By the Newsroom
KANO — Political victories are rarely the product of one man’s effort. They are often the result of a combination of circumstances, strategic choices, mistakes by opponents and, ultimately, the mood of the electorate. Governor Ademola Adeleke’s victory in Osun was no exception.
In retrospect, some of the forces that helped shape the outcome came from unexpected quarters. Those who contributed to the climate of public anger may never have intended to strengthen Adeleke, but their actions arguably did just that.
At the centre of the election was the broader question of economic hardship. For many voters, the ballot became an opportunity to express frustration with the prevailing cost-of-living crisis. Whoever was responsible for the hunger and economic pain felt by ordinary Nigerians became, in the eyes of many voters, part of the political equation. Adeleke benefited from that sentiment.
The Edo State Governor also appeared to play an unintended role. His ill-advised and, in the eyes of many Osun residents, insulting remarks about Governor Adeleke generated resentment rather than sympathy. Instead of weakening Adeleke, the attacks appeared to reinforce the perception that an outsider and the political establishment were ganging up against an incumbent they had come to identify with.
Then came the controversy surrounding the freezing of Osun State Government accounts. Whatever the legal or administrative justification may have been, the political optics were difficult to ignore. For Adeleke’s supporters, it was another symbol of what they regarded as an attempt to undermine their governor. In an election, perception can sometimes matter as much as policy.
Senator Fadahunsi’s reported comment that Accord Party members should be killed was another combustible moment. Such rhetoric, whether intended as political bravado or otherwise, had the potential to frighten voters and deepen opposition to those associated with it.
Hon. Wole Oke’s frequent references to President Bola Tinubu’s name and political power also appeared to produce an unintended effect. Politics is not simply about demonstrating strength; it is also about knowing when the display of power becomes alienating. In a state where voters fiercely guard their political independence, constant reminders of federal might could easily be interpreted as an attempt to intimidate rather than persuade.
Ero Arike’s relentless rants and curses similarly became part of the political theatre. What may have been intended as an aggressive campaign style arguably became ammunition for Adeleke’s camp, which was able to portray its opponents as excessively hostile and disconnected from the temperament of the electorate.
But perhaps one of the biggest strategic errors came from within the APC itself. Former Governor Gboyega Oyetola’s decision to impose a candidate perceived by sections of the party as unpopular, while denying members the opportunity to freely choose their preferred flag-bearer, created a wound that the party struggled to heal. Internal resentment does not disappear simply because an election campaign begins.
The arrival of governors and national party leaders from outside Osun also presented a complicated picture. Rather than appearing as reinforcements coming to support their party, their heavy presence sometimes created the impression of a political invasion—a powerful establishment descending on the state to conquer its people. Adeleke, by contrast, could present himself as the local candidate confronting an intimidating political machine.
And then there was Adeleke himself.
His irrepressible dance steps, once dismissed by critics as a political liability, became one of his most recognisable assets. He turned what could have been a vulnerability into a brand. His spontaneity, accessibility and unusual campaign style helped him connect with voters in ways conventional political messaging often fails to achieve.
The arrival of Davido added another dimension. The international music star’s enormous popularity and crowd-pulling capacity injected energy into Adeleke’s campaign. Beyond the spectacle, Davido helped reinforce the Adeleke family’s powerful cultural connection with Osun and the wider entertainment community.
Adeleke’s decision to commission numerous projects in the run-up to the election also proved politically significant. Whatever one’s assessment of the timing, the strategy gave the governor repeated opportunities to appear before the people. More importantly, traditional rulers were brought onto the platforms, lending the events an additional layer of cultural legitimacy and visibility. The governor was not merely campaigning; he was appearing repeatedly in the company of institutions and personalities that command respect across the state.
But no political strategy could have succeeded without the people of Osun.
They were perhaps the most decisive factor of all. In polling units where attempts were allegedly made to disrupt voting and seize ballot boxes, voters did not simply retreat. Reports of residents confronting suspected thugs—and in some instances taking weapons such as guns and axes from them—captured the determination of an electorate unwilling to surrender its vote.
That determination was complemented by another uniquely Osun phenomenon: creativity.
The campaign songs were not merely musical interludes. They became political weapons. Witty, biting and sometimes deliberately provocative, the songs travelled rapidly through communities and social media, reducing complicated political arguments to memorable lines that ordinary voters could easily sing, repeat and share.
Behind the scenes, Adeleke’s strategists also deserve recognition. One of their most consequential interventions was preparing the governor for the debate. Adeleke entered the encounter with expectations considerably lower than those attached to his principal challenger. When he performed better than many anticipated, the debate altered perceptions. A candidate who had often been caricatured suddenly appeared more prepared, composed and capable than his critics had expected.
And then there was the media operation.
Adeleke’s media team deserves credit. They understood the candidate, understood his audience and, crucially, understood the political moment. They amplified his strengths, responded to attacks, kept his personality at the centre of the campaign and ensured that the campaign’s messages travelled far beyond physical rallies.
In the final analysis, Adeleke’s victory cannot be attributed simply to dancing, Davido, incumbency or the failures of his opponents. It was a convergence of factors: public anger, opposition miscalculations, internal party discontent, aggressive campaigning, cultural identity, strategic media work, a surprisingly effective debate performance and, above all, an electorate determined to make its own choice.
The paradox of the Osun election may therefore be this: some of Adeleke’s strongest campaigners were not in his camp at all. They were the politicians, officials and strategists whose actions angered voters, overplayed their hands or underestimated the intelligence and independence of the Osun electorate.
Adeleke did not win because the political road was easy. He won because, at crucial moments, his opponents helped make the road easier for him—and his campaign was smart enough to walk it.