By Bello Bala Shagari

Northern Nigerian politics has never been monolithic. It is layered, fragmented, and often shaped by informal power brokers rather than formal structures. Yet, at almost every point in history, there has been a dominant figure or a small circle capable of exerting decisive influence over the region’s political climate.

For over a decade, that figure was Muhammadu Buhari. His moral capital , personal brand, and cult-like following gave him unmatched authority across much of Northern Nigeria. Still, Buhari’s dominance alone was not sufficient to win national power. After three failed attempts, he only succeeded in 2015 through a strategic alliance with the southern political bloc. Northern support, by itself, was never enough.

Following Buhari’s withdrawal from active politics, the northern political space entered a period of recalibration. The question became inevitable: who, if anyone, would fill the vacuum? Several politicians laid claim to the role, but influence is not asserted by declaration. It is earned through action, coordination, and visible reach.

At this point, it is important to state clearly that this analysis is not intended as a comparison or a competition between political actors. Northern politics is not a race with a single finish line, nor is influence a zero-sum game. Drawing parallels is sometimes unavoidable for context, but the purpose here is not to rank individuals or diminish others. Rather, it is to examine observable patterns of influence as they presently exist, independent of ambition, succession narratives, or future contests.

So far, Senator Abdulaziz Yari of Zamfara State has demonstrated the practical capacity to occupy that space in a visible and sustained manner.

Yari may not possess Buhari’s austere charisma or rhetorical force, but he appears to understand something equally powerful: coalition-building through presence, access, and generosity. His strength lies not in symbolism, but in convening power.

This was on full display during his son’s wedding. What stood out was not the ceremony itself, but the convergence it produced. Traditional rulers, clerics from different sects, political rivals, and power brokers, groups that rarely sit under one roof were all present. Several parallel events had to be organised because of the sheer volume of attendees. Clerics gathered separately, political associates elsewhere, families in another venue entirely.

On the wedding day at the Sultan Bello Mosque, the gathering reached an extraordinary scale. The President attended, alongside governors and emirs from across the country, senior political figures, and southern dignitaries including Ooni of Ife. The venue was so crowded that many dignitaries could not gain entry.

In Nigerian politics, gatherings of this magnitude are rarely interpreted as private affairs. They are often read as informal audits of relevance. Who attends, who sits where, and who is absent. By that measure, the convergence around Senator Yari reflected more than social goodwill; it suggested a broad acceptance across political, traditional, and religious lines.

This is not an essay about a wedding. It is about what that wedding revealed.

In one night, Senator Yari brought together adversaries who would otherwise not share a table. That capacity to convene without coercion signals real influence. It raises a critical question: how did he achieve this standing among figures such as Ahmed Sani Yarima, Aliyu Wamakko, Sule Lamido, Nasiru ElRufai, Rabiu Kwankwaso, Aminu Tambuwal, Bala Mohammed and Abdullahi Ganduje among others? And why does his name resonate beyond elite circles, down to ordinary northerners?

Part of the answer lies in an observation once made by President Shehu Shagari. In an interview in the early 2000s, Shagari remarked that even the Sardauna of Sokoto would struggle to win elections in modern Nigeria not because of legitimacy or stature, but because today’s politics is capital-intensive. Influence now requires resources, logistics, and sustained financial engagement.

When Buhari finally won in 2015, it was not merely because of popular sentiment. He was professionally branded, aggressively marketed, and financially backed with billions of naira. Power dynamics had shifted.

Northern political influence has historically moved from ideology, to moral authority, and now to networked capacity, the ability to mobilise people, resources, and legitimacy at the same time.

Senator Yari, widely known as Shehi in Northern Nigeria appears to understand this reality. He is financially capable, but more importantly, consistently accessible. Generosity, when performative, fades quickly. When sustained, it builds loyalty. Over time, this has earned him trust across clerical, political, and grassroots lines. His influence is slowly transcending to southern Nigeria where Alaafin of Oyo have recently conferred him with TV traditional title of Obaloyin of Yorubaland, to add to the one he already occupies as the Marafan Sokoto which was given to him

Beyond what is publicly visible, he is also known to reach out quietly to support multiple communities through different channels, often without publicity or political branding. This includes his uncommon reach to the Christian communities too. In a region where access to the state is uneven, such understated interventions often carry more political weight than formal speeches or policy declarations.

Since Buhari’s exit from active politics, Yari has also positioned himself as a stabilising northern figure within the current political order, emphasising cohesion and continuity rather than confrontation. This posture reinforces his image as a bridge rather than a challenger.

This model is not unprecedented. Atiku Abubakar once occupied a similar space, and absent the 2015 political realignment, might have gone further. Even President Bola Tinubu’s rise was anchored in long-term network cultivation and strategic generosity. It is just like the saying goes, you can’t bake your cake and have it.

Today, in Northern Nigeria, no single politician commands the breadth of visible influence currently wielded by Senator Abdulaziz Yari. This observation does not invalidate the relevance or strength of others; it simply reflects the present balance of influence. He has convinced clerics that he is one of them earning the honorific Shehi and the traditional rulers who conferred important titles to him. He also has positioned himself among politicians, governors and senators alike as a peer, not a patron. And he has maintained visibility among ordinary northerners.

He is not Buhari. But he is unmistakably on a trajectory toward filling the vacuum Buhari left practically, not rhetorically

*Bello is a youth advocate and a writer. He writes from Abuja