June 12, 2025
By Seyi Gesinde
It has been thirty-two long years since the sun rose on June 12, 1993, a date that was meant to announce Nigeria’s entry into true democracy but instead marked the betrayal of her people’s trust. That day, Nigerians from every region, religion, and class came out in their millions, placing their hopes on the ballot, believing that their votes would birth a new nation. For once, the nation transcended its divisions. They voted not along tribal lines but for competence, for character, for change. The man who embodied that hope was Chief Moshood Kashimawo Olawale Abiola.
The election was peaceful, fair, and widely hailed as the freest in Nigeria’s history. MKO Abiola, the candidate of the Social Democratic Party (SDP), had secured a decisive victory, beating Bashir Tofa of the National Republican Convention (NRC). Nigeria was ready to begin again. But the military elite was not. On June 23, 1993, the same regime that conducted the elections struck them down. General Ibrahim Badamasi Babangida, citing unfounded “irregularities” and pressure from powerful forces within the military, annulled the results. It was a stunning reversal of the people’s will, and with that single announcement, Nigeria’s most promising democratic moment was undone.
The Fall of a Mandate and Descent into Darkness
What followed was a deepening crisis of legitimacy. Protests broke out across the nation. Civil society groups mobilised. The National Democratic Coalition (NADECO) emerged. But rather than return to the path of democratic reform, the military doubled down. Babangida, unable to contain the fallout of his actions, “stepped aside” in August 1993, handing power to an interim government led by Ernest Shonekan, a civilian government that never stood a chance. By November of that year, General Sani Abacha, the dark figure lurking behind the scenes, seized power in a coup and buried any illusion of a return to democracy.
On June 11, 1994, exactly one year after the election he had rightfully won, Abiola delivered the now-legendary Epetedo Declaration from a secret location in Lagos. In a stirring and defiant speech, he declared himself the elected President of Nigeria and called on Nigerians to reclaim their stolen mandate. That declaration, powerful as it was, sealed his fate. Four days later, on June 15, 1994, Abiola was arrested and charged with treason by the Abacha regime. He would spend the next four years in solitary confinement.
Through those years, Nigeria descended into one of the darkest periods of her post-independence history. Abacha’s rule was marked by repression, assassinations, and a stifling of dissent. Journalists were jailed or killed, political opponents vanished, and civil liberties were trampled under boots. Yet, Abiola refused to renounce his mandate. He was offered conditional release multiple times, each requiring him to give up his claim to the presidency. Each time, he refused. The cost of that principle would be his life.
Two Sudden Deaths, One Unfinished Transition
On June 8, 1998, General Abacha died suddenly in his sleep under mysterious circumstances. The nation breathed a cautious sigh of relief. General Abdulsalami Abubakar emerged as the new Head of State, and for the first time in many years, there was a hint of change. Talks began behind closed doors to secure Abiola’s release and bring an end to military rule. But fate struck again. On July 7, 1998, one month after Abacha’s death, Abiola himself died, just hours before he was due to be released. He collapsed during a meeting with a delegation of US officials. They say he was served tea. They say he had a heart attack. But the circumstances surrounding his death remain murky, and for many, suspicions of foul play still linger.
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With the deaths of both Abacha and Abiola, Nigeria stumbled into a new phase. General Abdulsalami quickly arranged a transition programme, and on May 29, 1999, Olusegun Obasanjo, a former military ruler, and army General was sworn in as the new civilian president. The Fourth Republic had begun. But even in that symbolic return to civilian rule, the spirit of June 12 was never fully honoured. For years, successive administrations tiptoed around the legacy of Abiola. It was not until 2018 that the Nigerian government, under President Muhammadu Buhari, posthumously recognised Abiola as the winner of the 1993 election and conferred on him the title of Grand Commander of the Federal Republic (GCFR), the nation’s highest honour. That same year, June 12 was officially declared Democracy Day, replacing May 29.
A Resistance That Refused to Die
Still, the question lingers: has the Nigerian state truly internalised the lessons of June 12? Beyond symbolic dates and official pronouncements, the spirit of that historic election demands more, democratic accountability, rule of law, institutional independence, and protection of the people’s mandate. Abiola died not just as a political prisoner but as a symbol of what Nigeria could have become, a country where votes count, where unity trumps division, and where no one is above the will of the people.
Yet, the story of June 12 was not written by MKO Abiola alone. It was the outcome of a determined and multi-pronged resistance by courageous Nigerians who refused to surrender to tyranny. As the military hardened its grip, voices from the trenches of democracy grew louder, refusing to let that historic mandate die in silence. At the centre of the political resistance stood the National Democratic Coalition (NADECO), led by the late Senator Abraham Adesanya. NADECO quickly became the soul of the pro-democracy movement, uniting southern political leaders, activists, and civil society in a formidable campaign to restore civilian rule.
Other prominent actors such as Chief Anthony Enahoro, Chief Ayo Adebanjo, Admiral Ndubuisi Kanu, and Rear Admiral Ndubuisi Godwin Kanu offered their moral authority and political courage, speaking against the military from within and without. Legal titans like Chief Gani Fawehinmi and Olisa Agbakoba fought in courtrooms while also mobilising civil resistance. Dr. Beko Ransome-Kuti risked everything, including his health, to confront the military’s oppression. Professor Wole Soyinka gave the struggle a compelling international voice, using global platforms to call out the Abacha regime and demand justice for Abiola.
Women, too, played pivotal roles. MKO Abiola’s wife, Chief (Mrs) Kudirat Abiola, in particular, emerged as a fearless symbol of resistance in Lagos, organising protests and coordinating underground networks while her husband languished in prison. Her assassination in 1996 by agents of the state shook the nation but strengthened the resolve of the movement.
Several political actors and activists also played instrumental roles, Bola Ahmed Tinubu, now Nigeria’s President, was a NADECO member in exile, coordinating pressure from abroad and helping to sustain the movement’s reach. Others such as Shehu Sani, Uba Sani, and Kayode Fayemi were part of underground media, human rights campaigns, and civil mobilisation. The Nigerian Union of Journalists (NUJ), the Nigerian Labour Congress (NLC), and student unions added their voices through relentless strikes, publications, and protests.
Even within the military, there were quiet sympathisers—officers who despised what had become of the country but were either powerless or afraid to speak. Yet, the pressure from home and abroad eventually became unbearable. Western democracies imposed sanctions. Nigerian exiles maintained campaigns overseas. And the sheer resilience of the people kept the flame alive.
The Legacy, The Challenge, The Unfinished Work
This collective effort, crossing tribes, faiths, gender, and generations, made it impossible to fully erase June 12 from the national memory. And though it took decades, the seed sown through the ballots of 1993 eventually birthed the democracy Nigeria has today, however flawed. That one of the former foot soldiers of the NADECO resistance, Bola Ahmed Tinubu, now occupies the office of President, underscores the long, winding arc of history. But it also sharpens the question: will those who once fought for democracy now deepen it, or simply inherit its spoils?
Today, the name MKO Abiola still evokes both hope and heartbreak. His life was a paradox, an immensely wealthy businessman who gave it all for a principle; a man of influence who died alone in a prison cell. His legacy is not merely in what he won, but in what was taken from him, and what his sacrifice continues to demand from us all. June 12 is not a date to be celebrated lightly. It is a national call to remembrance, resistance, and resolve.
As we mark another year, we must remember that democracy is not a destination but a continuous journey. It is earned not by elections alone but by the courage to protect justice, the integrity of the ballot, and the right of every Nigerian to live under a government of their choosing. Until these ideals are fully realised, Nigeria will remain suspended between its stolen past and its elusive future.
June 12 is not just history. It is the unfinished struggle for a democratic Nigeria.
