The ObiDient Mirage: How Anger, Identity Politics and Momentum Built — and Unbuilt — a Political Movement

By 2023, Nigerian politics witnessed something it had never seen before: a third-force presidential candidate securing over six million votes in a fiercely contested election. Peter Obi’s rise, driven by the ObiDient movement, was historic. But history also demands honesty. With the benefit of time, distance, and unfolding political realities, it is increasingly clear that what looked like a political revolution was, in many ways, a mirage built on anger, identity politics, and digital momentum rather than durable political structure.

Peter Obi’s campaign did not emerge in a vacuum. It rode heavily on the emotional aftershocks of the #EndSARS protests—an organic youth uprising that expressed genuine frustration with governance, police brutality, and elite indifference. Many of the protest’s most vocal actors, organizers, and online influencers later formed the nucleus of the ObiDient movement, repurposing protest energy into electoral mobilisation. This transition, however, was more emotional than ideological.

What followed was a campaign that thrived largely on religious sentiment, ethnic solidarity, and social media activism. Online “keypad warriors,” amplified by a highly motivated Nigerian diaspora, helped shape a narrative of moral purity versus entrenched corruption. Any dissenting opinion was often framed as opposition to progress itself. In the process, nuance was sacrificed on the altar of moral absolutism.

Electorally, the results told a revealing story. Despite the nationwide noise, Peter Obi’s strongest showing came largely from the South-East and parts of the South-South, with notable exceptions like Lagos and Plateau. Outside these regions, the movement struggled to convert online enthusiasm into broad national appeal. Still, six million votes—an unprecedented figure for a third-place candidate—was no small feat. It was momentum, not machinery, that carried the day.

But momentum, unlike structure, is fleeting.

Since the election, the ObiDient movement has steadily unraveled. A series of public gaffes on sensitive national issues, prolonged crises within the Labour Party, and a perceived reluctance by Obi to decisively lead or reorganize his political base have drained the movement’s energy. Many early allies have quietly exited. The once-formidable online army has thinned. What was once a crusade now resembles a loose collection of disappointed idealists.

In a bid to remain politically relevant and reclaim national visibility, Peter Obi’s alignment with the African Democratic Congress (ADC) has raised more questions than answers. The coalition includes familiar faces of Nigeria’s political old guard—figures like Atiku Abubakar, Rotimi Amaechi, Rauf Aregbesola, David Mark, and others who represent the very establishment the ObiDient movement once claimed to reject.

The irony is striking.

Speculation now suggests that Obi may be positioning himself to outmaneuver Atiku for the presidential ticket, using regional balance arguments while Rabiu Kwankwaso reportedly waits in the wings for a vice-presidential slot. Kwankwaso himself is a study in political betrayal—alienated by his political protégé and in-law, Kano State Governor Abba Yusuf, and courted unsuccessfully by the APC due to his rigid political principles.

All these maneuvers expose a deeper truth: the myth of political purity has collided with the reality of Nigerian power politics.

Nigerians, meanwhile, are learning. The electorate is more discerning than in 2023. Many who were swept up by emotion, identity, and online activism now ask harder questions about organization, consistency, and leadership. The ObiDient movement, once loud and cohesive, has largely self-destructed under the weight of internal contradictions and unmet expectations.

The coming months will test Peter Obi’s relevance in Nigeria’s fast-shifting political terrain. His current ratings suggest a steep decline from the heights of 2023. Yet, as the saying goes, 24 hours is a long time in politics—especially Nigerian politics, where surprises are the only constant.

Whether Peter Obi can reinvent himself beyond symbolism and sentiment remains to be seen. What is certain, however, is that the era of unquestioned political sainthood is over. Nigerians want more than slogans, hashtags, and borrowed anger. They want clarity, structure, and leadership that can survive beyond the noise.

And that, ultimately, is the real test ahead.