AT first glance, Donald Trump and Bola Ahmed Tinubu might seem to have little in common beyond a few letters in their names. One could be forgiven for noticing the “T” at the start of their surname and the “U” tucked somewhere in between. But that is where the similarity ends. Beyond these quirks, the two men occupy entirely different political worlds. One built his rise on spectacle, controversy, and media frenzy; the other on mentorship, strategy, and carefully cultivated alliances. Their approaches to governance, money, and human development are shaped by very different histories and environments, a contrast that goes far beyond letters in a name.
Tinubu’s political story stretches back decades, into a time when democracy in
Nigeria was fragile and hard-won. Many who saw the early days of his journey are no longer alive, but their names remain a part of the country’s history. Figures like Anthony Enahoro, who championed Nigeria’s independence; Abraham Adesanya, a steadfast voice against military rule; Walter Carrington, the U.S. ambassador who supported Nigeria’s democracy during the military era; Kudirat Abiola, a symbol of courage; and Alfred Rewane, who supported pro-democracy efforts even at personal risk, all shaped the political environment that Tinubu grew up in.
A few of that generation are still alive. Respected figures like Wole Soyinka, Segun Osoba, Bisi Akande, and Olisa Agbakoba carry the memory of those times, reminding everyone that Tinubu’s rise was forged in an era that demanded strategy, patience, and resilience.
There is also a quiet piece of history hidden in Lagos: Walter Carrington Crescent. Many people pass it without knowing its significance. Named after Walter Carrington, the U.S. ambassador who supported Nigeria’s democracy during the military era, the crescent hosts major embassies and sits in a strategically important part of Lagos, the country’s former capital. It stretches out from the Lagos Lagoon and loops back toward it, a subtle reminder of the intersection between history, diplomacy, and power. This is the kind of environment that shaped Tinubu’s approach to leadership. Even early in his presidency, he has shown a preference for building alliances rather than making enemies. Many who once stood against him have become collaborators, a clear sign of his skill in turning conflict into cooperation. At one point, his future in politics seemed uncertain, clouded by threats of arrest and trial over allegations widely seen as politically motivated. Yet in politics, yesterday’s opponent can become today’ s partner, and Tinubu has navigated that transition with remarkable skill.
In the case of Donald Trump, he faced trials under the full weight of American law and was found guilty in several cases, yet he never spent a day behind bars and returned to win the presidency. Tinubu, on the other hand, was a student of history and politics, mentored bysome of Nigeria’s most influential political figures. Trump had no such guidance; he relied on spectacle and political misinformation to catapult himself into the public eye. His political journey gained traction when he repeatedly questioned President Barack Obama’s birthplace on his television shows, spreading false claims that captured the attention of the far-right; a movement resistant to civil rights progress from the 1960s. That movement became his core political base, especially after Obama, a Black man, became the president of the United States.
Tinubu’s approach was very different. From the beginning, he knew where he wanted to go. He built a political base across generations, engaging with the press strategically and eventually establishing his own channels of communication. Anyone familiar with politics knows the importance of the press in shaping public perception. Unlike Trump, who charmed parts of the media only to punish those who opposed him, Tinubu cultivated relationships that fostered long-term support. Trump’s style often relies on confrontation and intimidation, preparing punitive measures against those who challenge him, whereas Tinubu’s method emphasizes collaboration and influence.
No leader governs without making decisions that divide opinion, and Tinubu is no exception. The removal of fuel subsidies was bold. Many economists had warned for years that the country was spending money it did not have. The subsidy system was leaking funds, encouraging corruption, and pushing Nigeria dangerously close to financial collapse. In that sense, ending it was seen as necessary but the way it happened left many Nigerians struggling.
The impact was immediate. Fuel prices jumped overnight. Transportation costs rose.
Food prices climbed. Small businesses that were already hanging on by a thread began to suffocate under rising expenses. For ordinary people, especially the poor, it did not feel like economic reform. It felt like sudden hardship. What made it more painful was the lack of visible cushioning. A decision of that size needed strong preparation – clear support systems, effective communication, and immediate relief measures. Instead, the shock came quickly, and people were left to adjust on their own. Even today, the hardship has not eased in any meaningful way for many households.
Then there is the issue of taxation. The government has been serious about expanding the tax net and improving revenue collection. In principle, that makes sense. No country can grow without generating income. But citizens measure leadership by what they see around them. Right now, many Nigerians are paying more – yet they are not seeing clear improvement in their daily lives.
Small businesses complain about multiple taxation. Households are dealing with higher indirect taxes hidden inside the goods they buy. Yet roads are still broken. Electricity is still unreliable. Public services have not visibly improved. People are asking a simple question: if we are paying more, where is it going?
It is not that reform is wrong. It is that reform without visible results tests public patience. Removing subsidies, tightening fiscal policies, and increasing tax pressure all at once has placed enormous strain on citizens. Tinubu may believe he is fixing long-term structural problems, but politically, perception matters. If people do not feel progress, they will not easily believe in it. His ratings could suffer not because reform is bad, but because the pain is immediate while the benefits remain distant.
Now compare that with Trump. Trump chose a different economic battlefield. Instead of cutting domestic spending first, he turned outward. His tariffs targeted major trading partners and were presented as a way to protect American industries and reduce the trade deficit. To his supporters, this looked like strength. It looked like someone willing to confront global rivals.
He also pushed through major tax cuts, especially benefiting corporations and high-income earners. Supporters argue that these policies encouraged investment and job growth. Before the pandemic, unemployment numbers fell, and the stock market performed strongly. Many Americans felt confident about the economy during that period, and that confidence became political capital.
Of course, critics argue that tariffs increased prices for consumers and that tax cuts favored the wealthy. But politically, Trump was able to sell his economic policies as pro-America, pro-business, and decisive.
This is where the contrast becomes clear.
Tinubu is asking Nigerians to endure hardship now in the hope of stability later. Trump offered his base visible economic wins – tax relief, strong market numbers, and aggressive trade positioning even if those policies carried long-term debate. Both approaches carry risk. Both have consequences. But timing matters in politics. People respond to what they feel in the present.
Tinubu’s challenge is not just economic. It is emotional and psychological. Nigerians want to see proof that their sacrifices are building something real. If they do not see it soon, frustration will grow. Leadership is not only about making tough decisions. It is about helping people survive those decisions.
My own experience in environmental activism mirrors the lesson of patient, strategic
engagement. I began my work in northern Nigeria, in states at the edge of the Sahara, helping communities push back the desert and adopt sustainable practices to protect their environment. Even with successful pilot projects, my base remained in Lagos, a city grappling with severe environmental degradation. My activism and writings drew attention to the city’s environmental challenges, which led me to seek an audience with the then-Governor of Lagos State, Asiwaju Bola Ahmed Tinubu. While he did not meet with me personally, he directed his commissioner for environment, the permanent secretary, the Minister of Environment, and other directors to engage with me.
Though I was initially disappointed not to meet the governor himself, the meetings with his team proved incredibly productive. From the permanent secretary down to the directors, I received the most professional and rewarding feedback on my activism. Together, we introduced landmark changes to environmental workshops. After Tinubu left office as governor, I was honored to be appointed Ambassador Emeritus of Lagos State on Environment, a recognition that reflected both the impact of our work and the collaborative approach Tinubu had cultivated during his tenure.
In contrast, those in America who played roles similar to mine in environmental activism, like former Vice President Al Gore, have largely faded from political relevance. The initiatives Gore championed – from the Paris Agreement to the documentary An Inconvenient Truth- have been systematically rolled back, leaving many of the causes he fought for at risk.
Trump, meanwhile, continues to play a very different political game, one that aims to elevate him on the global stage. His interventions in conflicts such as the war in Ukraine have created divisions in Europe, often tipping the scales in favor of leaders like Vladimir Putin of Russia. In the Middle East, his policies in Palestine have effectively shifted support toward Israel, while his broader ambitions touching Cuba, Vienna, and even Greenland suggest a leader pursuing influence through dramatic, high-profile moves. We also remember the unusual rapport he cultivated with North Korea’s leader, sealed through exchanges of personal letters that captured global attention. Back home, his latest maneuvers including measures aimed at protecting Christians in Nigeria – risk deepening internal divisions, potentially moving the country further away from peace and stability.
Trump and Tinubu are not just different personalities; they are products of very different strategies, environments, and histories. One thrives on spectacle and controversy; the other on careful planning, mentorship, and coalition-building. One creates headlines; the other builds structures. Both are leaders, but their paths could not be more contrasting.
Leadership is not about letters in a name or the attention you command. It is shaped by history, context, and the choices leaders make to navigate complex political landscapes. While Trump’s headlines grab the world’s eye, Tinubu’s deliberate, strategic influence quietly endures. Letters in a name may catch attention, but it is strategy, foresight, and the ability to turn challenges into opportunity that leave a lasting mark.
