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There are things you learn through study, and then there are truths life thrusts upon you. I’ve had the privilege of seeing politics from multiple angles—business, governance, media, and the streets where real impact is measured in stomachs filled or empty.
As a teenager, Margaret Thatcher once reminded me that politicians are the only people with a god complex whom we don’t automatically lock up in a loony bin. That was an interesting perspective at the time. Now, it feels like a prophecy.
In Nigeria, we have perfected a system where those in power, upon seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, wish for more tunnels. Why? Because power, once tasted, is never enough. And we, the people, allow it.
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So, let’s dissect the political quagmire we find ourselves in—not from the tired playbook of think tanks and academic jargon, but through the lens of lived reality.
The Doctrine of Necessity: When the Constitution Becomes Optional.
The “doctrine of necessity” should have been a last-resort tool for emergencies. Instead, Nigerian politicians treat it as a “break glass when inconvenient” policy.
We’ve seen it before: in 2010, it was used to install Goodluck Jonathan as acting president when Umaru Yar’Adua disappeared into a medical void. Fast forward to 2025, and we’re watching President Bola Tinubu suspend an entire state government under the guise of national stability.
The sanctity of the Nigerian Constitution is treated like a dinner menu—pick what suits you, discard the rest. Yet, the masses shrug. Because when two square meals a day becomes a fantasy, who has the energy to protest legality?
Politicians and their “God complex”
Nigerian politicians have a messiah complex that would make even the most self-absorbed televangelist blush. They see themselves not as public servants but as ordained rulers, above criticism and beyond reproach.
Take the recent Senate scandal: Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan was suspended after daring to call out sexual harassment by the Senate president. The message was clear—challenge the status quo, and you’re out. It’s the same across the board. The system is rigged to protect itself.
Margaret Thatcher’s words echo loudly. If politicians were in any other profession, we’d demand psychological evaluations before letting them near a decision-making table. But in Nigeria? We give them convoys, security details, and national budgets to play with.
The masses: Starved into silence
Nigeria’s inflation rate hit 34.19 percent in June 2024, with food inflation soaring above 40 percent. A staggering 133 million Nigerians now live in multidimensional poverty. That’s not just an economic statistic; that’s a country where the average person is too busy surviving to care about governance.
And the ruling class knows it. They bet on it. They weaponise economic hardship to keep people disengaged. A population fighting over rice and fuel queues is a population too distracted to challenge leadership failures.
This isn’t incompetence—it’s design.
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So how do we fix this?
The textbook solutions are useless because they assume rational actors in a system designed for self-preservation. We need Nigerian-rooted, pragmatic solutions that acknowledge the real power structures at play.
1. Starve the political class (not the masses)
A system that rewards politicians with obscene allowances while the people suffer is unsustainable. Strip the incentives. Slash government perks. No more convoys, estacodes, or redundant committees. Let’s see how many will still “serve” if there’s no buffet at the table.
2. Economic disobedience
What if a mass boycott targeted corrupt institutions? What if communities stopped paying bribes and documented every instance of extortion? Corruption thrives in darkness—dragging it into the light makes it uncomfortable.
3. Institutional independence (for real this time)
Nigeria’s anti-corruption agencies, judiciary, and civil service must be untethered from political control. That means appointments should be performance-based, not patronage rewards. Without this, every other reform is cosmetic.
4. Localised political movements
Change won’t come from Abuja. It will come from state- and community-led governance models that prove transparency and efficiency work. The goal? A domino effect. When people see a better system functioning, they will demand the same at higher levels.
5. Change the narrative on leadership
Stop glorifying wealth without accountability. The next election cycle needs to focus on competency, not charisma. A leader’s biggest achievement should not be “building roads” but fixing systems that shouldn’t have been broken in the first place.
Final thoughts: Who watches the watchmen?
That’s the real question, isn’t it? The answer has always been the same—the people. But a population that is hungry, disillusioned, and detached from governance cannot hold anyone accountable.
So we’re stuck in the tunnel. But here’s the thing about tunnels: they aren’t infinite. Eventually, even the most power-hungry politician runs out of road.
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The only question is—when that time comes, will the people be ready?
Nigeria doesn’t need another election season filled with empty promises and recycled failures. It needs a reset.
The light at the end of the tunnel is only meaningful if it leads somewhere. Otherwise, it’s just another mirage in the political desert.
After all, that light is a place where ordinary people sustain political change, not political proxies with damp squib god complexes.
