Following the death of former Nigerian President Muhammadu Buhari on July 13, 2025, new attention has been drawn to his reflections on leadership, intellectual legacy, and documentation of history. During one of his last public outings at the commissioning of the Nigeria Customs Service Headquarters in Maitama, Abuja, Buhari made a striking declaration: he would never write a book about his time in power. His reasoning, as he explained, was rooted in the ethical dilemma of exposing people he “cannot resist abusing,” a revelation that has since ignited debates about memory, education, and leadership documentation in Nigeria.
Buhari’s refusal to write a memoir or academic account of his political journey highlights a larger problem in Nigeria’s intellectual culture particularly in leadership circles. Unlike many past presidents and heads of state who left behind written reflections, Buhari chose silence, stating, “Some people said I should write a book. I don’t think I will ever write a book. Mainly, I don’t want to hurt anybody.” He added that he refrained from doing so because he did not want to inadvertently disgrace the children and grandchildren of individuals he would criticize. “For the sake of their children and grandchildren, I have left them,” he concluded.
As Nigeria’s president for eight years (2015–2023), Buhari presided over a complex era that saw major educational challenges, policy inconsistencies, and chronic underfunding of the sector. Throughout his tenure, he often made public statements about improving education, promising reforms, and investing in youth empowerment. However, critics argue that his administration fell short in practical terms. His reluctance to write his memoir leaves a significant gap in Nigeria’s educational and intellectual record, especially for scholars seeking to understand the intricacies of his government’s decisions.
Education scholars and historians have long emphasized the importance of political memoirs and personal accounts in shaping historical narratives and fostering civic education. In this context, Buhari’s refusal represents a missed opportunity to offer future generations insights into his policies, successes, failures, and personal philosophies. His decision has sparked debate in academic circles about the role of intellectual humility versus the responsibility to document history for educational purposes.
Buhari’s stance also underscores a broader cultural issue: Nigeria’s leaders often avoid rigorous self-assessment or public intellectual engagement after leaving office. This absence of political documentation deprives students, researchers, and historians of first-hand materials that could enrich curricula in history, political science, and governance studies. Universities and policy institutes rely heavily on these materials to train future leaders and deepen democratic knowledge.
Beyond memoir-writing, Buhari’s time in office was marked by contentious relationships with Nigeria’s education sector. Under his leadership, the country experienced multiple Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU) strikes, affecting the academic calendar and disrupting the lives of millions of students. While his administration pledged to improve education funding, Nigeria’s education budget consistently remained below UNESCO’s recommended 15–20% allocation of the national budget.
Despite repeated promises to tackle issues of out-of-school children, Buhari’s administration saw Nigeria maintain its position as one of the countries with the highest number of children out of school globally. According to UNESCO’s 2022 data, nearly 20 million Nigerian children were out of school during his tenure, a statistic that experts say reflected systemic neglect and poor policy implementation.
In his lifetime, Buhari was often described as a “reluctant intellectual” , a leader more inclined toward practical governance than academic engagement. His military background, coupled with his austere personality, often distanced him from scholarly dialogues, and he rarely participated in public lectures or policy think-tanks after leaving office. His decision to remain silent on his leadership journey fits into this pattern of leadership aloofness from academia.
Educational commentators also point out that Buhari’s silence inadvertently prevents national reflection and learning from past governance. Memoirs offer not just personal catharsis but national introspection helping to prevent repeated mistakes. By refusing to document his years in power, Buhari has effectively left future generations of students and scholars with fragmented secondary accounts, most of which may lack the depth of personal testimony.
For Nigerian education, where documentation and archiving remain weak, Buhari’s decision amplifies the crisis of historical erasure. Institutions depend on autobiographies, speeches, and policy reflections to build a repository of national experience. Without contributions from former leaders, gaps in educational content become wider, forcing educators to rely on hearsay or incomplete records.
As Nigeria mourns Buhari’s death, many wonder whether his choice not to write a book was an act of humility or an evasion of accountability. Either way, his silence will shape how he is remembered in classrooms, lecture halls, and political discourse. For a nation still grappling with leadership failures, poor educational funding, and systemic neglect, Buhari’s death reopens conversations about the intellectual obligations of public officeholders.
In the end, Buhari’s legacy leaves educators and scholars with a paradox: a leader who governed Africa’s largest democracy for eight years, yet chose to leave no written reflection of his experiences. For students of history and politics, this silence is as telling as any book he might have written.
