VP Shettima Declares Buhari’s Demise a ‘National Loss’

A Nation Pauses

The air hangs heavy across Nigeria. Markets fall silent. Social media floods with green-white-green emojis. This collective breath-holding began when Vice President Kashim Shettima faced cameras in Daura, his voice cracking as he framed former President Muhammadu Buhari’s death as a continental earthquake: “This is not just a loss for Daura or Katsina. Africa itself has lost one of its greatest leaders.” In Abuja, President Bola Tinubu’s pen moved with historical weight: “He was a patriot, a soldier, a statesman to his core. His legacy of service endures.” With swift authority, Tinubu ordered flags lowered nationwide for seven days and summoned an emergency Federal Executive Council meeting—state machinery snapping into mourning mode. What unfolded next transcended mere funeral rites; it became Nigeria’s reckoning with a man who shaped its destiny for nearly half a century.

The Final Journey: Rituals of Mourning and Tribute

State Protocols in Motion

Tinubu’s directive to Vice President Shettima carried solemn urgency: “Bring him home.” Within hours of Buhari’s passing in a London hospital on July 13, Shettima and Chief of Staff Femi Gbajabiamila were airborne, escorting the former leader’s body back to Nigerian soil. Islamic tradition demanded swift burial—a 48-hour countdown to interment began. When the presidential jet touched down at Katsina’s Umaru Musa Yar’Adua Airport on July 15, Tinubu stood waiting under the searing sun. Behind him, military officers snapped sharp salutes. The flag-draped casket emerged—not just a body, but a national symbol. Tinubu’s hand brushed the coffin as pallbearers marched to the hymn “God Be With You Till We Meet Again,” their steps measured by the cadence of history.

Daura: Where a Nation Wept

Daura’s dusty streets transformed into an amphitheater of collective grief. Thousands pressed against barricades, chanting “Sai Baba!” Children were hoisted onto shoulders; elders wiped silent tears. This was beyond protocol—it was primal. Guinea-Bissau’s President Umaro Sissoco Embaló stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Niger’s Prime Minister Ali Lamine Zeine. Former Niger President Mahamadou Issoufou flew in. Political rivals—Tinubu, Atiku Abubakar, Peter Obi—shared shade under a single canopy, their differences momentarily buried. Nine senior military officers, including Major-General Mohammed Usman and Major-General Oluwafemi Williams, bore the casket’s weight. As it lowered into the simple grave in Buhari’s residence backyard, a 21-gun salute tore through the air—each blast a punctuation mark on history. Aisha Buhari watched, veiled and stoic. No mausoleum. No marble. Just earth. “This is who he was,” a kinsman murmured. “No fanfare.”

Leadership Eulogies: Decoding the Political Rhetoric

Shettima’s Heartbeat of the North

Shettima’s voice thickened with emotion as he addressed mourners: “This is a black Sunday for the North. We’ve lost our archetypal public servant.” His tribute functioned as cultural code. By invoking Buhari’s “selflessness and integrity,” Shettima spoke directly to northern sensibilities, binding the late president’s legacy to ideals of mutunci (human dignity) and amana (trust). “His life transcended the ordinary,” Shettima insisted, positioning Buhari as a moral compass for future generations. Katsina Governor Dikko Radda amplified this: “He lived and died for the people. We must sustain his transparency.” The subtext resonated clearly: This defines northern leadership.

Tinubu’s Bridge-Building Oration

Tinubu’s written statement performed delicate political alchemy. He lauded Buhari’s “uncompromising stance on unity” and “war on corruption,” tactfully avoiding their strained history over economic policy. This was legacy rehabilitation through language. His true brilliance emerged in symbolism. By attending the burial alongside fierce opponents Atiku and Obi, Tinubu transformed Buhari into a unifying vessel. International validations followed: ECOWAS Chair Omar Touray called him a “champion of regional integration.” South Africa’s Cyril Ramaphosa cabled condolences. The divisive figure was recast as a pan-African icon.

Buhari’s Cross-Generational Service

The Dual Legacy: Triumphs and Shadowlands

The Pillars

Buhari governed like a commander battling waste. His campaigns left deep imprints: He championed economic patriotism, refusing to devalue the naira—a stance he called “protection for the poor.” Fuel subsidies, costing $800 million monthly, were defended despite spawning parallel markets. His administration unlocked the decades-stalled Petroleum Industry Act in 2021, catalyzing investments. The Dangote Refinery push promised energy independence. “He dreamed factories, not imports,” an aide recalled. Social interventions like N-Power employed 500,000 graduates; school feeding reached 9.9 million children. Yet these triumphs were shadowed by corruption scandals—”disappearing SIP billions” tainting their impact.

The Contradictions

For every achievement, a paradox lingered: Security gains against Boko Haram were offset by bandit terror in the northwest. The 2020 #EndSARS protests culminated in the Lekki Toll Gate shootings. Kaduna’s Shi’ite massacre (347 killed) contradicted his “rule of law” mantra. His anti-corruption drive jailed figures like oil minister Diezani Alison-Madueke and recovered $320 million in looted funds. Yet Nigeria’s Transparency International ranking barely shifted, fueling accusations of selective enforcement. Close aides revealed Buhari’s private reckoning: “I know I hurt people. I beg their pardon”—a rare admission from a leader of granite resolve.

The People’s Verdict: Tears, Tweets, and Truth

Grassroots Grief

In Daura, women ululated as earth covered the grave. At Buhari’s Kaduna residence, an eerie quiet prevailed—a geography of polarized pain. Online, #RIPBuhari birthed competing narratives: “Jannatul Firdaus, Baba! You fought for us!” contrasted sharply with “He died in London after spending 200 days there as president. Irony died too.” This digital duality mirrored the national psyche—a nation wrestling with conflicted reverence.

The World’s Whisper

Beyond Nigeria, eulogies carved Buhari in marble. Sierra Leone’s Julius Maada Bio called it a “devastating loss for all Africans.” AfDB’s Akinwumi Adesina praised his “selfless service.” AU Chair Moussa Faki hailed a “committed pan-Africanist.” Yet intellectuals grappled with nuance. Journalist Fisayo Soyombo tweeted: “Unprecedented goodwill squandered.” Economist Bismark Rewane dissected “Buharinomics’ stagnation.” Katsina Governor Radda’s plea—”Emulate his honesty!”—implied the chasm between perception and lived reality.

International Reactions to Buhari’s Passing

The Unfinished Symphony

As dusk settled over Daura on July 15, crowds dispersed. Tinubu returned to Abuja. Shettima wiped his brow. Nigeria faced its quiet. Buhari’s legacy defies simplistic packaging. Was he the “greatest leader” Shettima mourned? Or the “economic undertaker” critics denounced? Truth resides in the tension between these extremes. His significance lay not in perfection but in potent symbolism: the ascetic who scorned wealth in a land of kleptocrats; the northerner who governed alongside a Yoruba pastor; the soldier who surrendered power—twice. Tinubu’s tribute lingers: “May his life inspire service with courage and selflessness.” Yet Buhari’s own parting words—”Pardon me”—hold deeper resonance. Nigeria’s task isn’t to sanctify or vilify, but to reconcile. To weigh the patriot against the enigma. To mourn the man, not just the monument. For within that reckoning lies the true birth of legacy—a complex, contested, and ultimately human imprint on the soul of a nation.