“Let the People Mourn How They Choose” – Solomon Buchi Defends Nigerians Rejoicing Over Buhari’s Death

Social commentator and writer, Solomon Buchi, has stirred yet another wave of national debate following his blunt take on reactions trailing the death of former President Muhammadu Buhari. In a candid and unfiltered post that has sparked both applause and outrage across social media, Buchi firmly declared that no one has the moral right to silence Nigerians who choose to express their relief — even joy — at the passing of a leader they blame for years of economic hardship, insecurity, and political suppression.

The former president, Muhammadu Buhari, died in a London clinic on Sunday afternoon, bringing to a close a turbulent legacy that continues to divide the nation. While many paid their respects and sent condolences to the Buhari family, a noticeable fraction of Nigerians took to social media platforms to express something very different — not sadness, but a sense of vindication, even satisfaction. Solomon Buchi, in his characteristic direct tone, spoke up for those Nigerians, defending their right to grieve, or celebrate, in their own way.

“You cannot ask people who were negatively impacted by Buhari’s presidency not to rejoice over his death,” Buchi wrote in a widely shared tweet. “He presided over a government that ruined lives, destroyed hopes, and widened the inequality gap. He is gone, but the consequences of his rule remain.”

The statement quickly went viral, drawing intense reactions. Supporters of the late president called it insensitive and disrespectful to speak ill of the dead. Others, however, saw it as an important moment of truth — a chance for Nigerians to confront the raw emotional scars that Buhari’s tenure left behind.

Buhari’s presidency, which spanned from 2015 to 2023, was marked by fierce controversy. Although he came to power on the wings of an anti-corruption promise and a vision to restore national discipline, critics argue that he ended up presiding over some of the worst economic downturns in recent history, widespread insecurity, gross human rights violations, and a government many perceived as aloof and unresponsive to the plight of ordinary citizens.

“I was one of the millions who lost my job due to Buhari’s economic policies,” a social media user commented in response to Buchi’s post. “My family went hungry. My dreams collapsed. I am not ashamed to say I feel some kind of closure now.”

This sentiment echoes the pain of countless Nigerians who feel forgotten by the system, many of whom bore the brunt of failed economic policies like the botched border closure, the persistent fuel subsidy crisis, the inflation that spiked food prices beyond reach, and the continuous devaluation of the naira. For these citizens, mourning Buhari in the conventional way feels like a betrayal of their own experiences.

Solomon Buchi’s stance challenges the cultural and religious norm in Nigerian society that discourages speaking ill of the dead, no matter their flaws. His comments strike at the heart of a nation grappling with how to process the death of a former leader who was both deeply revered and bitterly resented.

“Death does not whitewash a legacy,” Buchi added in a follow-up post. “If you made people suffer in life, expect that not everyone will cry at your funeral. That is the reality of leadership.”

Across social media, Nigerians posted personal stories of anguish tied to Buhari’s time in office. Some recalled the 2020 #EndSARS protests and the Lekki Toll Gate shooting, during which the government was accused of using military force on unarmed demonstrators. Others highlighted the rampant kidnappings, banditry, and terrorist attacks that plagued the country throughout his presidency, especially in the North where Buhari hails from.

“What about the hundreds of schoolgirls kidnapped under his watch?” one user asked. “Should their families pretend he was a hero?”

Yet, Buhari’s defenders argue that history will be kinder to him. They point to infrastructure projects, improved anti-corruption frameworks, and efforts to stabilize the security apparatus — albeit with mixed results. His supporters say he led with integrity and that the challenges of governance in a complex country like Nigeria cannot be laid solely at his feet.

Solomon Buchi remains unfazed. Known for his bold takes on politics, faith, and societal issues, he has never shied away from uncomfortable truths. His unapologetic defence of those dancing in the face of Buhari’s death isn’t meant to mock grief, he says, but to validate the pain of millions who suffered under poor leadership and who have never been offered the dignity of closure.

“We must allow people to process their pain in ways that are honest to them,” Buchi stated. “We celebrate our heroes in life and mourn them in death. But when a leader becomes the symbol of oppression, don’t expect flowers at his grave.”

The debate around Buchi’s post also reignited discussions about the need for national healing and accountability. Nigerians are still waiting for many answers. What happened at Lekki Toll Gate? Why did fuel scarcity persist throughout his tenure? Why did insecurity worsen in some regions despite trillions spent on defense? Why were critical voices silenced and protesters jailed?

As the nation reflects on Buhari’s death, Solomon Buchi’s viral statement underscores a larger truth — that pain, especially collective pain, demands expression. Whether through tears, silence, or celebration, Nigerians will mourn their way. And no one, not even the defenders of legacy, can dictate the terms of that mourning.

In a country still reeling from the consequences of decades of misrule, perhaps Buchi’s boldness is what the nation needs — a reminder that history must be faced, not sugar-coated. The death of a former president does not erase the scars of his leadership. For many, it simply marks the beginning of an honest conversation that was long overdue.