Rhodes-Vivour’s bet: leave Labour, build a bigger tent
The man who rattled the Lagos political order in 2023 has changed jerseys. Gbadebo Rhodes-Vivour has dumped the Labour Party and signed up with the African Democratic Congress, saying the only path to power in 2027 is a broad, disciplined opposition coalition that moves as one.
He made the switch at a packed event in Lagos, calling it a practical step, not a protest. In his words, the opposition can’t march into another election in pieces and expect a different result. “This coalition is meant to rescue Nigeria,” he told supporters, framing the move as part of a larger plan to align parties, candidates, and structures early—well before ballots and posters.
ADC leaders embraced him fast. Lagos chairman George Ashiru called it a turning point for a wider political movement that has been gathering figures disillusioned with both the ruling All Progressives Congress and the Peoples Democratic Party. The pitch is simple: build a platform big enough to matter nationally, but nimble enough to avoid the baggage that slows the old majors.
APC’s Lagos chapter waved it away. Their response: it’s just opportunism and a dead-on-arrival realignment. That dismissal won’t surprise anyone at Rhodes-Vivour’s camp, where the 2027 project is already being framed as a slow burn—organize ward by ward, fix candidate recruitment, and crowd in civil society, youth groups, and professionals who drifted from formal politics after 2023.
Rhodes-Vivour has history to point to. In the 2023 Lagos governorship race, he finished second to Governor Babajide Sanwo-Olu, pulling more than 300,000 votes and riding the same urban momentum that powered the Labour surge in the presidential ballot. It wasn’t enough to win, but it showed a coalition-heavy path—especially in big cities—if the vote isn’t split three or four ways in 2027.
Why ADC? The party is small but familiar with coalition politics. In 2018, it served as a vehicle for a reform push backed by former President Olusegun Obasanjo’s Coalition for Nigeria Movement. That push fizzled, but it left ADC with a network that has never fully gone away. For Rhodes-Vivour, a less crowded party gives him room to shape strategy without the factional fights that have dogged Labour since 2023.
Disruptions, denials, and the 2027 test
The Lagos launch almost derailed. Rhodes-Vivour said suspected thugs tried to crash the gathering. He also alleged that local council officials sealed the original venue and that police officers showed up in numbers at the backup location, stirring confusion over whether the security presence was for protection or pressure. He promised to seek a formal explanation from the state police chief.
The Lagos State Police Command rejected claims that officers aided any disruption. That back-and-forth will likely continue. What matters is the climate it points to: tense, suspicious, and prone to flashpoints. Rhodes-Vivour warned again that normalizing political thuggery is a dead end—if violence sets the rules, governance never arrives.
This moment is bigger than one defection. For any opposition bloc to be viable in 2027, three things have to happen at once: credible candidates across states, a clear method to pick a presidential ticket without breaking the alliance, and a shared message that cuts through economic pain, insecurity, and voter fatigue. Nigerians will not buy another vague promise. They want a plan that says who does what by when—and how it’s paid for.
There’s also the math. Nigeria’s presidency is won with a national spread, not just big city votes. Any bloc must reach into the North-West and North-East, hold ground in the South-South, and be competitive in the South-West—Lagos included. That kind of balance requires tough deals: seat-sharing, joint campaign structures, pooled funding, and a common legal team for election day fights.
We’ve seen mergers and alliances work before. The APC itself was born in 2013 from a merger that stabilized candidate selection and messaging long before the vote. We’ve also seen alliances that looked big on paper but collapsed under egos and late-night policy quarrels. The difference is process and timing—start early, set rules, lock them in, and live with the compromises.
In the near term, the ADC move gives Rhodes-Vivour a fresh launchpad in Lagos. Expect town halls in Alimosho, Ikeja, and Surulere; work teams on jobs and small business finance; and a push to train polling agents properly. He says the original event was meant to include free medical checks and job-matching for youth before it was shut down. If he keeps rolling out social services alongside politics, that’s a sign he’s serious about building ground game, not just headlines.
There are headwinds. Labour voters don’t always follow leaders who switch parties, especially if they feel ownership of the 2023 “movement” brand. Some activists blame party chieftains—across the board—for turning citizen energy into backroom chess. Rhodes-Vivour will have to show clean books, transparent primaries, and a platform people can read and measure. That’s the work between now and the campaign.
Watch these markers over the next six to nine months:
- Whether ADC anchors a formal alliance with other mid-size parties, including a written pact on primaries and seat-sharing.
- If prominent figures from the North join the project and take lead roles, not just guest slots.
- How quickly the bloc fields candidates in local and off-cycle contests to test the machine.
- Whether security bodies respond clearly and even-handedly to future opposition events in Lagos.
- Fundraising: small-donor systems, audited reports, and visible spending on organization—not just rallies.
For now, the message from Rhodes-Vivour is unity first, structure second, and personalities last. If he can turn that into a living coalition, he’ll force a real contest in 2027. If not, this switch will be remembered as one more headline in a cycle packed with them.