All Progressives Congress National Chairman Nentawe Yilwatda visited former Kano State governor Ibrahim Shekarau and Senator Bello Hayatu Gwarzo on Wednesday at Shekarau's residence, known as Mundubawa Palace, in Kano. The visit marked a direct appeal by Yilwatda for the two political figures to return to the APC. During the meeting, Yilwatda referred to himself as their "son" and pleaded for mentorship and support. "Come and help me, I am your son. I need your support, I need your mentorship. I am pleading with you to come and help me," he said. He urged party members present to encourage Shekarau and Gwarzo to rejoin, emphasizing unity among northern leaders. "Let us all come back to APC. Your son at the APC is pleading; I cannot do it alone. Together we can build a very strong alliance to help the North," he added. Shekarau acknowledged the gesture, noting that Yilwatda's personal visit reflected seriousness. He revealed that he and his associates were evaluating their political position due to internal issues within the PDP. "You came at a time we are also searching for a solution to the cancer that have infected us in the PDP," he said. No immediate decision was given, but Shekarau promised an update in a few days, stating that any move would be based on the principle of "Kano first." Kano State Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf had visited Shekarau three days prior.
Nentawe Yilwatda's personal visit to Ibrahim Shekarau underscores a quiet but urgent scramble within the APC to reclaim influence in Kano, a political stronghold with outsized influence in northern Nigeria. That the national chairman deemed it necessary to travel to Kano and frame his appeal in familial terms—calling himself a "son" in need of guidance—reveals the depth of the party's concern over defections and eroding loyalty. This is not mere politicking; it is damage control in a state where symbolism and personal relationships often outweigh party structures.
The timing speaks volumes. Shekarau's reference to a "cancer" within the PDP suggests internal decay in the opposition, creating an opening the APC is eager to exploit. Yet his hesitation—and the prior visit by Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf—indicates that Kano's political elite are weighing options, not simply awaiting instructions. The "Kano first" declaration is not just rhetoric; it reflects a regional political identity that often operates independently of national party directives. The APC's unity pitch to northern leaders rings hollow if it ignores this reality.
For ordinary Kano residents, this high-level maneuvering offers little immediate relief. Their concerns—unemployment, insecurity, poor infrastructure—remain unaddressed in these elite conversations. But the outcome could shape governance priorities, especially if returning figures demand concessions in exchange for loyalty. Ultimately, this is less about ideology and more about power distribution among a tight political circle.
This episode fits a broader pattern: Nigerian politics as a revolving door of defections, personal appeals, and short-term alliances. Loyalty shifts with perceived advantage, and party identity remains fluid. The APC's outreach is not about principle but survival in a landscape where influence is personal, not institutional.
