
NNAMDI KANU’S ‘JUBRIL FROM SUDAN’ TRENDS AS BUHARI MAKES FINAL EXIT
The recent announcement of former President Muhammadu Buhari’s death has reignited one of Nigeria’s most controversial political conspiracy theories—first pushed by the detained leader of the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB), Mazi Nnamdi Kanu.
The theory, which once seemed far-fetched to many, is now trending again as Nigerians revisit Kanu’s long-standing claims that Buhari actually died in 2017 and was replaced by body doubles to keep power within the northern establishment.
Nnamdi Kanu, who rose to national prominence following his 2015 arrest, has consistently insisted that Buhari died on January 27, 2017, while undergoing medical treatment in the United Kingdom.
According to him, Buhari suffered complications from surgery, organ failure, pneumonia, and hemophilia, and was quietly buried in Saudi Arabia.
Kanu alleged that this development was kept secret by a powerful inner circle in Aso Rock, led by then Chief of Staff Abba Kyari, who restricted access to the president—even from his wife and children.
To maintain political continuity and prevent Vice President Yemi Osinbajo from taking over, Kanu claimed the northern cabal, allegedly in collaboration with the British government, scouted and trained a body double from Sudan named Jubril Aminu Al-Sudani.
He said this double was coached to impersonate Buhari and paraded for months as Nigeria’s leader.
According to Kanu, Jubril eventually fled during a trip to Cuba, prompting the cabal to source a second double—Yusuf Abubakar Muhammad from Niger Republic.
Kanu’s broadcasts were filled with so-called evidence—palm print mismatches, differences in ear shape, frown lines, nose structure, and even claims that Buhari had stopped using one ear for his face mask to avoid damaging what he called a “silicone disguise.”
He argued that Buhari avoided official functions with strict dress codes, especially those that required removing his cap, to prevent exposing the alleged mask.
One of the more viral points in Kanu’s presentations was a photograph showing supposed unnatural neck folds—claimed to be a silicone mask malfunction.
He also cited a tweet from Buhari’s daughter in 2020, which read, “The one person who’s supposed to be in this picture isn’t — my Baba,” interpreting it as further proof that Buhari was already dead.
British politician Eric Joyce added fuel to the fire when, in 2017, he tweeted cryptic messages suggesting that “the president of the most populous African nation is dead,” though he didn’t name Buhari directly. Joyce doubled down, challenging Nigerians to ask their government to prove Buhari was alive.
His tweets remain online to this day and are frequently referenced by Kanu’s supporters.
Despite the attention these allegations received, most of the evidence Kanu provided was easily debunked or based on manipulated images, mirrored photos, fake AU tributes, or cropped headlines from unverifiable sources.
A photoshopped hospital image, an edited BBC article referring to Buhari as “late,” and an audio remix falsely claiming AU leaders observed a minute of silence were also among the alleged proofs.
Still, the return of the “Jubril from Sudan” narrative to national conversation underscores a deeper issue: the Nigerian public’s growing distrust in government transparency, and how deeply political narratives—true or false—can shape national memory.
For many, Kanu’s theory will remain what it’s always been—a story. A compelling, controversial, and theatrical story that may never be proven, but continues to stir public curiosity long after its origin.