A Coup That Never Was Or So They Say

By Nwafor Oji Awala.

Once again, Nigeria finds itself caught in the swirl of a familiar national drama: a rumour so strong that official denial only serves to make it more believable. When Sahara Reporters broke the story that sixteen military officers had been arrested for plotting a coup allegedly scheduled for Nigeria’s Independence Day, October 1st, 2025, the report spread with the speed and intensity of wildfire.

Predictably, the government and the military quickly dismissed the report as “false” and “unfounded.” Yet, the sudden replacement of the service chiefs by President Bola Ahmed Tinubu lent a curious weight to the alleged plot. To the discerning mind, it raised more questions than answers. If there was truly nothing to hide, why the abrupt reshuffle at the topmost level of the armed forces?

In Nigeria, rumours are rarely baseless. They may be exaggerated, but they are seldom invented. And in a country where denials often precede revelations, one cannot help but wonder whether this “coup that never was” might have, in fact, come closer to reality than officials care to admit.

Beyond the denials lies a deeper irony: what moral ground does a government that negotiates with bandits and terrorists have to claim innocence in matters of national betrayal? What can one expect from a leadership that routinely rewards ex-convicts and ex-terrorists with multi-billion-naira contracts, while preaching patriotism to law-abiding citizens? When a state becomes comfortable doing business with criminals, the line between legitimacy and lawlessness inevitably blurs.

This latest episode, whether true or not, exposes the profound trust deficit between the Nigerian government and its people. Citizens have grown accustomed to official half-truths, policy contradictions, and selective transparency. So, when the government insists that “there was no coup attempt,” the public instinctively reads between the lines, and what they often see there is not reassurance, but concealment.

It is, of course, a dangerous thing that elements within the military still entertain fantasies of “saving” Nigeria through unconstitutional means. The military’s long and dark history of misrule remains one of the country’s most painful legacies, a past marked by suppression, corruption, and decay. For any soldier to imagine a return to such an era is both delusional and tragic.

Yet, the government’s own conduct has not helped to dispel such temptations. Inconsistency, insecurity, and incompetence have made democratic governance appear fragile and unconvincing. When a nation’s leadership fails to inspire hope, even dangerous alternatives begin to look appealing to the desperate.

Whether or not a coup was truly in the making, the government owes Nigerians clarity, not concealment. Democracy thrives on trust, and trust cannot be built on denial. If indeed there was a plot, honesty about it would strengthen public confidence. If there was none, transparency in explaining the military shake-up would have done the same.

At the heart of the matter lies one simple truth: governance in Nigeria has become so entangled in contradictions that citizens no longer know when to believe their leaders. A nation cannot survive for long on such shaky ground.

In the end, the alleged coup may remain, as officials insist, “a baseless rumour.” But in the theatre of Nigerian politics, rumours often serve as the smoke that reveals the fire of discontent burning beneath. And until the government begins to act, not merely react, with sincerity, rumours like this will continue to fill the silence left by a credibility gap too wide to ignore.

After all, in today’s Nigeria, denial has become more than a reflex: it has become an institution.

©️ Nwafor Oji Awala 

Prime Heritage Magazine