TOYE FALEYE writes that from Oyinlola’s courtroom exit to Aregbesola’s eight-year run and Adeleke’s bid for a second term, Osun’s political history is a story of power won, lost and fiercely contested — and of a state where political continuity has never come easily.
There is something curious about politics in Osun State. Governors come and go, political alliances rise and fall, parties that once appeared unbeatable suddenly find themselves in opposition, and yesterday’s political giant can become tomorrow’s challenger.
Since the return of democracy in 1999, Osun has repeatedly demonstrated just how difficult it can be for a governor to establish lasting political continuity.
Only Rauf Aregbesola has managed to complete two full terms during the state’s democratic era. But perhaps calling this a “one-term curse” is too simple. Osun’s political history tells a more complicated story.
Olagunsoye Oyinlola actually won re-election before the courts later removed him from office. Aregbesola won a second term and completed eight years. Gboyega Oyetola, despite inheriting a powerful political structure, lasted only one term before Ademola Adeleke defeated him in 2022.
So the real mystery is not whether Osun voters are willing to give a governor another term. They clearly are. The bigger question is why political continuity has proved so difficult to sustain.
For more than two decades, Osun has been a fascinating theatre of ambition, loyalty, betrayal, comeback and political survival. Behind the election results are people — politicians who have spent years building alliances, voters who have watched promises come and go, and political families whose influence stretches across generations.
Now, with Adeleke seeking another mandate in the August 15, 2026 governorship election, Osun is once again asking itself whether this time will be different.
A State Where Political Fortunes Can Change Quickly
Osun’s political story has never been a straight one. Its first elected civilian governor, Isiaka Adeleke, barely had time to establish himself before the military coup of 1993 brought democratic government to an abrupt end.
When democracy returned in 1999, Bisi Akande took over the reins of government under the defunct Alliance for Democracy (AD). Akande served one term before Olagunsoye Oyinlola of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) defeated him in 2003.
Oyinlola appeared to have broken the pattern. He won re-election in 2007 and began what should have been another four-year journey in office. But politics in Osun has never been entirely decided at the ballot box.
In 2010, the Court of Appeal nullified the 2007 election and declared Rauf Aregbesola the winner. Oyinlola was forced out after spending more than three years of his second term in office.
That episode is important because it changes the way we should understand Osun’s political history. Oyinlola did not lose his second term because voters rejected him at the next election. He had already won another mandate. His political journey was interrupted by the courts.
Then Came Aregbesola.
And for eight years, Osun experienced something that had become unusual in its politics: continuity. Aregbesola won his first election in 2010 and secured another mandate in 2014. He completed his second term in 2018, leaving office after eight years.
His tenure remains the clearest evidence that Osun is not inherently hostile to incumbents. The state can reward continuity. It simply does not do so easily.
Then Came Oyetola
When Gboyega Oyetola succeeded Aregbesola in 2018, many expected the political structure built around the outgoing governor and the APC to remain strong enough to keep the party in power.
Oyetola was not an outsider walking into an unfamiliar political environment. He was closely associated with the administration he succeeded and inherited an established political machine.
But four years later, everything changed. Ademola Adeleke, the PDP candidate, defeated Oyetola in the 2022 governorship election. For Adeleke, the victory was particularly personal.
He had contested the governorship in 2018 and lost. Four years later, he returned, fought the same political establishment and emerged victorious.
It was not simply an election victory. It was a comeback story. And that is one of the things that makes Adeleke such an interesting figure in Osun politics.
The Adeleke Factor
Ademola Adeleke has never fitted neatly into the traditional image of the Nigerian politician. His public persona is unusually expressive. He dances. He jokes. He appears comfortable among ordinary people.
His supporters have embraced his accessibility and his ability to connect with crowds in a way that feels less formal than the conventional political style.
The nickname “dancing senator” has followed him for years, but reducing Adeleke to his dancing would miss the more important political story.
There is a carefully constructed political identity underneath the flamboyance. Adeleke belongs to one of the most recognisable political families in Osun.
His late brother, Isiaka Adeleke, was the state’s first civilian governor and later served as a senator. That family history gives Ademola Adeleke something many politicians spend years trying to build: name recognition and an established political network. But family name and personal popularity can take a politician only so far.
The real test of Adeleke’s leadership is whether he can turn personal popularity into durable political support. That is what makes the 2026 election so significant.
If Adeleke wins another term, he will have done something that most Osun governors of the democratic era have failed to do: survive the first electoral test of incumbency.
More importantly, he will demonstrate that his political coalition is capable of lasting beyond the excitement of a comeback victory.
If he loses, however, Osun’s extraordinary pattern of political turnover will continue, and questions will inevitably be asked about whether the state’s voters are simply unwilling to keep governments in office for too long.
But Are Osun Voters Really Fickle?
This is where the Osun story becomes more complicated. It is easy to describe the state’s voters as unpredictable. But the evidence tells us something else.
Osun voters gave Oyinlola a second mandate. They gave Aregbesola a second mandate. They also removed Oyetola after his first term.
That suggests something important. Osun voters are not necessarily opposed to continuity. They appear willing to reward a government they believe deserves another chance and remove one they believe does not.
Perhaps, then, the problem is not the voters. Perhaps the problem is the ability of political leaders and parties to build coalitions strong enough to survive four years of governing.
Winning an election is one thing. Keeping the people, politicians, party members, traditional structures, interest groups and political allies who helped you win is another.
The moment those relationships begin to fracture, an incumbent can become vulnerable. That may explain more about Osun politics than the idea of a “one-term curse.”
The Politics Behind the Politics
Every governor enters office surrounded by supporters. Some want appointments. Others want influence. Some want their communities recognised. Others expect government access. Political allies who campaigned together may suddenly find themselves competing for the same resources.
And the people who help a politician win an election do not necessarily remain united once the election is over. This is one of the quiet realities of Nigerian politics.
Political coalitions are often built around personalities rather than institutions. When the personality at the centre of the coalition loses influence, the coalition can begin to weaken. Osun has experienced this repeatedly. There is also the unavoidable influence of national politics.
Osun may be a state with its own political identity, but it does not exist in a political vacuum. Presidential elections, national party structures and shifting alliances in Abuja inevitably affect the political calculations in Osogbo.
A party that looks unbeatable at the national level can suddenly find itself fighting for survival in a state. And a politician who appears vulnerable can become surprisingly powerful when the national political wind changes direction. This is why Osun politics can feel so unpredictable. The ground beneath the politicians is rarely completely still.
Aregbesola’s Eight Years Remain the Exception
Perhaps the best way to understand Osun’s political puzzle is to look more closely at the politician who actually solved it. Aregbesola did not simply win twice. He built a political structure capable of keeping him in office for eight years.
His administration developed a strong political identity, while his relationship with the progressive political movement in the state gave him an organisational base that could withstand serious opposition.
His eight years also gave the APC enough time to institutionalise its presence in the state. Whatever one’s opinion of Aregbesola’s policies or style of government, his political survival cannot be ignored.
He proved that Osun could sustain an administration for eight years. The question is why that has been so difficult for others.
Adeleke’s Moment of Truth
That question now sits squarely on Adeleke’s desk. He has already achieved something significant by defeating an incumbent.
He has demonstrated that the Adeleke name remains politically powerful. He has built a distinctive public identity and developed a loyal grassroots following.
But the second-term election is different from the first. When you are the challenger, you can promise change. When you are the incumbent, you have to defend your record.
Every road, school, hospital, appointment, salary decision, policy and political promise becomes part of the argument. The opposition does not have to convince voters that it can govern perfectly. It only needs to convince enough voters that the incumbent should be replaced.
That is the difficult position Adeleke now finds himself in. The APC, meanwhile, is attempting to return to power with Bola Oyebamiji as its candidate.
The contest is therefore not simply about Adeleke and his popularity. It is also a battle between two political structures and two competing visions of Osun’s future. And beneath all of that lies the larger question. Has Osun changed?
More Than an Election
The significance of the 2026 election goes beyond who eventually occupies the Government House in Osogbo. For years, Osun has provided a fascinating lesson in Nigerian democracy.
It has shown that incumbency is not always enough, that political parties can rise and fall quickly, that the courts can dramatically alter political outcomes and that voters can surprise even the most confident political establishment.
But it has also shown that political change is not necessarily the same thing as political instability. Sometimes voters simply want something different. Sometimes they punish an incumbent. Sometimes they reward one.
And sometimes, as the Oyinlola experience demonstrated, events outside the ballot box determine the fate of a government. That is why describing Osun as a state with a “one-term curse” misses the deeper story. Osun does not appear to hate continuity.
It appears to demand that politicians earn it. Aregbesola earned eight years. Oyinlola won a second mandate but lost his position through a judicial decision. Oyetola could not persuade voters to give him another term.
Adeleke now has the opportunity to prove that his political movement is different. If he succeeds, his victory will mean more than another four years in office. It will suggest that Osun may finally be moving away from its long history of interrupted political continuity.
If he fails, the state’s political carousel will turn again. And perhaps that is the most revealing thing about Osun. Its voters may not be looking for governors who simply stay. They may be looking for governors who can convince them that staying is deserved. That is the real continuity problem in Osun State.
