By Fẹ́mi Akínṣọlá
Nigeria’s democracy has survived longer than any of its predecessors, yet for most citizens it feels like an elaborate performance staged for an audience that is never consulted. Elections are held, results are announced, and speeches about the will of the people fill the air. Beneath this veneer, however, the selection of leaders is often concluded long before a single ballot is cast. Deals are struck in hotel suites, party tickets are allocated to the highest bidder, and the public is left to ratify decisions made without its input. If democracy is to be more than a label, Nigerians must confront the uncomfortable question of who actually chooses their representatives.
The process begins to unravel at the level of party primaries. In theory, primaries are the first democratic test, where party members select the candidate they believe can best articulate their interests. In practice, they have become tightly managed selections where loyalty and financial capacity outweigh competence and public service. Aspirants are judged on their willingness to fund party operations, pledge allegiance to godfathers, and remit a share of future political benefits. Delegates, often dependent on stipends and inducements, function less as representatives of the grassroots and more as commodities in a closed market. When the outcome is predetermined, the general election ceases to be a contest and becomes a mere confirmation.
Money has accelerated this distortion. Contesting an election in Nigeria now requires resources far beyond the reach of most citizens. The cost of nomination forms alone excludes many qualified aspirants, while the expenses of mobilising delegates, renting crowds, and securing media coverage place the entire process out of reach for those without deep pockets or access to state patronage. Legal limits on campaign finance exist on paper, but enforcement is negligible. The result is a political class dominated by wealthy businessmen, contractors, and former officeholders who view public office as an investment to be recouped. Public interest becomes secondary to private profit, and governance suffers accordingly.
This situation is worsened by the fragility of political parties as institutions. Most parties lack coherent ideology, functioning internal structures, and mechanisms to hold leaders accountable. They exist primarily as vehicles for individuals seeking power rather than as organisations built around policy programmes. Without internal democracy, parties cannot restrain the excesses of the candidates they produce. Governance then becomes an extension of personal fiefdoms, where decisions serve patrons and financiers, and where policy direction changes with every shift in leadership.
The abuse of state resources further skews the contest. Incumbents and their preferred successors routinely deploy public funds, government logistics, and security personnel to intimidate rivals, suppress turnout, and manufacture outcomes. This creates an uneven playing field in which grassroots candidates, regardless of their popularity, cannot compete fairly. Elections in such an environment are not about choice but about who controls the machinery of the state. The message sent to citizens is that participation is ceremonial and that power resides with those already in possession of it.
Even the judiciary has been drawn into this cycle. Because party processes are so flawed, courts are frequently called upon to determine who qualifies as a candidate and, at times, who wins an election. Judicial review is a necessary check on abuse, but the volume of litigation around candidacy undermines the primacy of the ballot. It also breeds public cynicism, as rulings are widely perceived to follow money and influence rather than law. When legitimacy is conferred in chambers rather than earned at the polls, the moral authority of democratic institutions erodes.
Compounding the problem is the dominance of identity-based bargaining over policy debate. In a plural society, managing ethnic, regional, and religious diversity is essential, but when these considerations become the primary basis for selection, competence and capacity are sidelined. Leaders are chosen for where they come from rather than what they can deliver, and citizens receive representation in symbolism rather than in service delivery. The political class becomes adept at managing patronage networks but incapable of delivering the development that justifies democratic rule.
The consequences for governance are clear. Leaders who emerge through imposition, financial muscle, and state capture are accountable to their sponsors rather than to voters. Public contracts are awarded to connected firms at inflated costs, social programmes become tools of patronage, and institutions are weakened to serve private interests. It is in this context that roads remain impassable, schools lack basic materials, and hospitals operate without essential equipment, despite successive budgets passed under democratic rule.
This trajectory is not inevitable. Civil society is becoming more vocal, digital platforms are exposing backroom dealings, and courts have occasionally nullified illegitimate primaries. Younger voters are increasingly demanding more than identity and patronage. These developments indicate that change is possible if matched by institutional reform. What is required is an electoral commission truly independent of executive control, enforceable campaign finance regulations, and genuine internal democracy within political parties. Above all, citizens must be willing to reject candidates imposed through money and manipulation.
Nigeria’s democracy will remain stunted until the selection of leaders reflects the will of the people rather than the dictates of money and power. The public is not asking for perfection, only for a system where votes determine leadership and where leadership is accountable for results. Until party structures are opened up, state resources are separated from partisan advantage, and policy debate replaces identity bargaining, elections will continue to mask a deeper exclusion. The benefits of democracy—responsive governance, equitable development, and public trust—will only be realised when Nigerians reclaim the process from those who have turned it into a marketplace.
Copyright © 2026 Fẹ́mi Akínṣọlá. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.
