By Sunday morning, Osogbo had begun to look like a city coming out of a long night.
Campaign posters still clung to walls. Election notices hung where they had been pasted. Roads that had carried convoys, party agents and anxious voters were returning to ordinary traffic. Somewhere, tired election officials were heading home after a night that had stretched beyond the closing of the polls.
But beneath the celebration and disappointment was a quieter question:
Can Nigerians still believe an election when it is over?
That question is bigger than Ademola Adeleke. It is bigger than Bola Oyebamiji. Ultimately, it is bigger than Osun.
