In a political landscape often clouded by excess and entitlement, former presidential spokesman Garba Shehu has offered Nigerians a rare peek behind the curtains of power—highlighting a side of Muhammadu Buhari many may not have fully seen.
In his newly released memoir, “According to the President: Lessons from a Presidential Spokesperson’s Experience”, Shehu paints a picture of Buhari as a man who didn’t just preach frugality but lived it—often to the surprise of those around him.
From rejecting luxury armoured vehicles worth ₦400 million to sending back a diamond-studded wristwatch, Shehu’s accounts bring to light the personal decisions Buhari made to stay grounded even as Nigeria’s Commander-in-Chief.
One moment that stood out happened just months into his presidency. In a 2015 meeting with the top brass of a major construction company handling multi-billion-naira government contracts, Buhari didn’t mince words.
“We have been informed that percentage cuts, 10 per cent or more, are built into your contracts, to be shared among government leaders and civil servants,” Buhari reportedly told them. “This must stop. We will not accept kickbacks.”
He didn’t stop there.
Buhari called out a pattern where these contractors, under the guise of goodwill, built homes, maintained cars, and sponsored overseas medical treatments for public officials—costs he insisted were eventually padded into government contracts.
“All such costs are built into your quotations,” Buhari warned. “Tell us the actual cost. No 10 per cent. No extras.”
According to Shehu, the room fell into a deep silence after Buhari’s blunt rebuke. Not a single executive spoke up in dissent.
But perhaps the more intimate moments were those that never made headlines.
Like the time a Nigerian-American luxury jeweller, Chris Aire, gifted Buhari a custom-made wristwatch with diamonds and the President’s portrait engraved on it. Shehu, acting as the middleman, presented the gift—only to be told to return it with a polite thank you.
“Tell him we appreciate the gesture, but I don’t need it,” Buhari reportedly said.
Even the State House budget wasn’t spared. Shehu recounted how the President pushed back on a ₦10 million catering budget that covered not just himself but the Vice President, guest houses, and banquets.
“Look at my table—what do I eat? How much does it cost?” Buhari asked in protest.
His approach extended to vehicles. Upon learning that ₦400 million had been released for new armoured cars, Buhari rejected the purchase outright, choosing instead to continue using the vehicles left behind by former President Goodluck Jonathan.
“Are they not good enough?” he asked. Even when one of them broke down en route to the airport, he stuck with the old fleet.
The memoir also details how Buhari demanded stricter financial controls within the State House, instructing that every kobo spent be properly budgeted—ending the use of ambiguous “Presidential Intervention Funds.”
While critics may continue to debate Buhari’s legacy on broader governance issues, these behind-the-scenes stories offer a more personal lens: a president who, for all his flaws, tried to live out his principles of modesty, fiscal discipline, and ethical leadership in the small day-to-day decisions that often go unnoticed.
In a country where leadership excesses are all too common, Garba Shehu’s memoir invites Nigerians to reflect on the kind of public service they want—and the kind of discipline it truly takes to uphold it.
