The Nigerian constitutional review process continues to unfold with procedural precision; still, one cannot help but feel a sense of missed opportunity. Given the decades of controversy, debate, and dissatisfaction that have surrounded Nigeria’s 1999 Constitution — a document many argue was imposed rather than genuinely adopted — one would have expected this review to ignite passionate national discourse and unprecedented public engagement.
The process in itself demonstrates organised engagement from predictable stakeholders (politicians, traditional rulers, civil society organisations, and professional bodies) who have all actively participated. The claim by a National Assembly official that the exercise is taking “democracy to the doorsteps of every Nigerian,” is disputable.
Beneath the “procedural competence” lies a troubling reality: the constitutional review has failed to capture the national imagination or generate the groundswell of citizen engagement that such a consequential exercise demands. Unlike major political events that dominate social media and street conversations, this review operates more as a professional legislative exercise than a transformative national movement.
This tepid participation is particularly disappointing given the 1999 Constitution’s controversial origins and the persistent criticisms it has faced. Born out of military transition rather than popular consultation, the constitution has been criticised for creating an over-centralised federation, weak local governments, and institutional structures that have struggled to deliver good governance. Citizens have long complained about provisions that seem disconnected from Nigerian realities and aspirations.
The irony is plain: a constitution that has been contested for 26 years is being reviewed and there is minimal public excitement or broad-based participation. Instead of becoming a national conversation about Nigeria’s future, the exercise risks remaining an elite-driven process that generates impressive documentation but limited societal ownership.
Seeing the limited participation, one is tempted to ask, will the constitutional review deliver social justice for all Nigerians?
When Hauwa, a subsistence farmer in rural Kebbi, falls ill, the nearest functional hospital is 150 kilometers away on roads that become impassable during the rainy season. Her children attend a primary school with no roof, no textbooks, and one teacher for 200 pupils. Despite living atop some of Nigeria’s richest agricultural land, Hauwa has no access to credit, modern farming techniques, or reliable markets for her crops.
This contrived Hauwa’s story, replicated millions of times across rural Nigeria, represents the country’s greatest constitutional challenge: how to ensure that governance reforms translate into tangible improvements for ordinary citizens rather than elite bargaining exercises.
Statistics reveal unadorned inequalities: rural Nigerians are twice as likely to be poor, three times less likely to access quality healthcare, and significantly more likely to be illiterate. Yet, the current dominant focus remains on state creation and elite power distribution rather than genuinely addressing fundamental inequalities.
For the new constitution to deliver social justice, it must move beyond cosmetic changes to address structural inequalities through justiciable economic and social rights that citizens can enforce in court. It must embody a national renewal project.
Examples from other African countries like Morocco and Ghana proved that constitutional reforms can capture national imagination. They prioritised patient consensus-building over rushed timelines, ensured rural voices were heard, and created mechanisms for ongoing citizen involvement in implementation.
The remaining phases must transform this systematic but sterile process into vibrant democratic engagement that Nigeria’s constitutional future deserves. The National Assembly must act immediately to expand its outreach beyond the scheduled urban centres, taking the conversations directly to rural communities. This requires a fundamental reimagining of how constitutional reform engages with ordinary citizens. Morocco’s success with digital platforms that overcome literacy barriers offers a compelling model, demonstrating how technology can democratise participation.
The current timeline, racing toward a December 2025 deadline, appears increasingly unrealistic for the depth of consultation that genuine constitutional transformation requires. The National Assembly should request a six-to-twelve-month extension, using the additional time not for political manoeuvring but for patient consensus-building that reaches every corner of Nigerian society.
The lessons from Ghana, and Botswana are unambiguous: successful constitutional reforms unfold over years, not months, allowing for the gradual development of public ownership that sustains implementation.
Rural civil society organisations, women’s groups, and youth organisations – all must get more actively involved. The youths should leverage digital platforms to create parallel conversations that complement formal proceedings, ensuring that Nigeria’s demographic majority has meaningful voice in shaping the nation’s fundamental law.
State governments cannot afford to remain passive observers in this process. The ultimate success of constitutional amendments depends on ratification by two-thirds of state assemblies, yet many state legislators remain unprepared for the complex decisions they will face. State-level consultations should begin immediately, educating both legislators and citizens about the implications of proposed changes while building the political will necessary for meaningful reform.
This review will deliver social justice only if the constitutional provisions translate into better schools in rural Borno, improved healthcare in Bayelsa villages, or economic opportunities for women farmers in Kwara. This means moving beyond state creation and power-sharing formulas to guarantee broad economic rights and options for rural communities.
For ordinary citizens, the moment demands active engagement. This review represents the most comprehensive opportunity in over two decades to address fundamental flaws that have hindered national development. The stakes are too high, the opportunity too rare, and the need too urgent for anything less than total national involvement. The time for genuine engagement is now — before this historic opportunity becomes another missed chance for meaningful change.
