The Latin maxim “de mortuis nil nisi bonum” — “of the dead, speak no evil” — reflects a courteous norm in personal relationships. However, when applied to public figures, especially those who exercised immense political power, it becomes a dangerous tool of silence. While refraining from criticism may seem like a noble gesture, choosing silence over truth allows historical revisionism to flourish. In the case of former Nigerian President Muhammadu Buhari, that silence would be nothing short of betrayal to the truth and the people who suffered under his leadership.
In fact, speaking openly about Buhari’s legacy is not just an act of memory; it is an act of resistance. We must preserve the right to express criticism, even after a leader’s passing. Buhari’s legacy demands honest assessment—not because the dead can hear, but because the living must.
Why Criticism of the Dead Matters for the Living
Public criticism of deceased leaders serves as a moral duty for the present generation. Those who quote Latin proverbs to silence critique are often trying to escape accountability for their own complicity. Buhari’s administration did not function in isolation. It operated through a network of enablers, sycophants, and opportunists—many of whom continue to wield power or influence today. These individuals, who cheered “Sai Baba!” during Buhari’s reign, want us to forget the damage they helped inflict. But our memory must serve justice.
Speaking the truth about Buhari is also a way of communicating directly with the current and future political class. If they see Nigerians silently accepting the glorification of failure, then they too will believe they can rule without consequence. On the contrary, they must know that leadership, especially one as repressive and harmful as Buhari’s, will be judged not with sentimentality but with clarity and truth.
The Reign of Hypocrisy: Buhari’s Contradictory Life
Buhari’s life and presidency were defined by hypocrisy. During his 2015 campaign, he passionately decried medical tourism, vowing to ban top government officials from seeking healthcare abroad. Yet he spent years of his presidency outside the country receiving medical treatment funded by the Nigerian taxpayer. He never trusted the same healthcare system he claimed to reform, while ordinary Nigerians faced some of the world’s highest maternal mortality rates and life expectancies as low as 53 years.
Public hospitals languished under his rule, some going months without electricity. The only notable healthcare investment he made was in the Presidential Clinic within Aso Rock—a facility primarily serving the ruling elite. Meanwhile, common citizens died from preventable diseases, inadequate infrastructure, and medical negligence. He promised progress but delivered paralysis.
This same trend of disconnection extended across other sectors—education, energy, transportation, security, and the economy. Public morale plummeted. His leadership lacked direction, often marked by half-hearted policies and chronic indecision. Under his watch, Nigeria entered recession, exited it, and then slipped back again. Despite championing “change,” his policies offered little coherence and even less impact.
A Leader Unprepared, Unfit, and Indolent
Buhari’s rise to power came with massive public support. In 2015, Nigerians were desperate for reform and genuinely believed in his promise of integrity and change. But once in power, he appeared wholly unprepared for the task ahead. It took him six full months to appoint ministers, only to present a list filled with familiar political faces—hardly the experts one might expect after such a long delay.
Despite contesting presidential elections four times before winning, Buhari complained about the demands of the job almost immediately, citing his age as a limitation. Why then did he seek office so persistently, only to reveal he lacked both the energy and insight required to govern effectively? His governance style was lethargic, and his policy approach lacked intellectual depth. He governed with gut feelings rather than informed strategies.
Those close to him revealed he had no appetite for knowledge or growth. A trusted aide even confirmed that Buhari did not own a bookshelf or actively engage with ideas. He shut himself off from a rapidly evolving world, and as history moved on, he stood still—mentally, ideologically, and emotionally.
A Tyrant Without Vision, A Ruler Without Mercy
Beyond incompetence, Buhari ruled with callous indifference. He wielded state power to suppress dissent and punish perceived enemies. His administration presided over brutal events like the Zaria massacre of over 350 Shiite Muslims in 2015, which he unapologetically justified. Rather than seek justice, he promoted the military officials responsible, notably Tukur Buratai, whom he later rewarded with an ambassadorial role.
Buhari also oversaw the bloody suppression of Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB) members and EndSARS protesters. He remained unmoved by the cries of victims or grieving families. Worse still, his government consistently turned a blind eye to the atrocities committed by Fulani herdsmen who ravaged communities, particularly in Benue State. Time and again, Buhari demonstrated that unless pain was his own, it did not matter.
Even his much-touted anti-corruption stance proved hollow. His own wife famously labelled his administration a “citadel of corruption.” Major scandals rocked his government, yet few, if any, faced accountability. His hypocrisy extended even to currency reform. Buhari defended the controversial and destructive naira redesign policy that inflicted economic chaos on Nigerians. His border closure initiative, another ill-informed decision, lacked any measurable benefit and deepened the suffering of ordinary people.
A Legacy of Pain, Not Progress
Buhari’s rule left Nigeria economically weaker, socially fractured, and emotionally drained. His legacy is not one of strength or transformation but of stagnation, confusion, and cruelty. That he lived to 82 is no punishment; true punishment would have been forcing him to live among the wreckage he caused and hear the full measure of public contempt he earned.
His death has not erased the suffering of the millions who endured hunger, violence, unemployment, and hopelessness during his time in office. Nor has it removed the responsibility to speak clearly about what went wrong. For the sake of history, for the sake of those still living with the consequences of his policies, and for the sake of generations to come, we must not shy away from truth.
The Duty to Remember—and to Warn
As Buhari is laid to rest, many of his supporters call for silence in the name of respect. But what greater respect can we give to the victims of failed leadership than to tell their stories truthfully and loudly? What deeper respect for democracy than to insist that leaders who abuse power will not be granted a revisionist afterlife?
We must speak not just to remember the past but to shape the future. Silence paves the road for repetition. Honest reflection, however painful, keeps us vigilant. By holding leaders accountable—even in death—we ensure that others in power take note: history does not forget, and the people will not remain silent.
In the end, Buhari’s name will not be saved by monuments or praise singers. His true legacy will live in the memories of those who suffered and the voices of those courageous enough to speak. Let that be the final word—not reverence, but reckoning.