Covering the National Assembly over the years, I’ve learned to expect a few constants: grandstanding, committee summons, and the occasional shouting match that many times do not make it to social media, especially in the ninth Senate.
In the rich tradition of Nigerian politics, where appearances often matter more than outcomes, the current Senate has chosen to major in recess and minor in responsibility.
Suppose the drafters of the Constitution had imagined a chamber whose crowning glory would be sustained breaks, forgotten ad-hoc committees, and a thunderous silence on oversight. In that case, they’d have been describing this very Senate.
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Now, don’t get me wrong. It’s not that they’ve been entirely inactive. Far from it, they’ve been impressively unavailable. Unlike previous Assemblies that flirted occasionally with absenteeism, this Senate has institutionalized it. Recesses aren’t breaks anymore; they’re practically part of the core mandate.
In previous assemblies, recess was time for full work, even for journalists, as one committee or another ad-hoc was meeting with stakeholders, travelling with journalists for on-the-spot assessment. This culture has become alien to the 10th Senate.
But nothing quite prepared me for the current Senate’s love affair with recess. If legislative absence were a performance metric, the 10th Senate would be racking up awards.
This Red Chamber has taken leisure so seriously, you’d think it was part of the oath of office. It’s no longer just about legislative breaks; it’s a full-blown culture of “no show, no problem.” They’ve turned absenteeism into an art form, and somehow, it’s become their most consistent output. All they needed to do was pass a major bill, then go on recess.
While the Red Chamber luxuriated in its sabbaticals, their supposed understudies in the House of Representatives have quietly taken over the heavy lifting.
It’s a strange but amusing role reversal. During this ongoing break, while senators perfected their disappearing acts, the House was busy with committee meetings, ad-hoc investigations, and even responding to the political turbulence in Rivers State.
And speaking of Rivers, let’s pause to appreciate the House’s seriousness. It’s like the House got tired of waiting and decided to wear the big-boy trousers. And they’ve been doing so with surprising maturity.
Take the Rivers State situation, for example. While the Senate buried its head under the warm blanket of oversight (in name only), the House hit the ground running. They set up an ad-hoc committee to look into the emergency rule, held meetings, and even engaged with the sole administrator all during the break.
Shocking, I know. Meanwhile, over in the Red Chamber, you could practically hear the crickets. No committee met, no urgent matter debated, and certainly no reports emerged. But we did hear the familiar refrain: “We’re doing oversight.” These days, that phrase is a catch-all for everything from international conferences to airport selfies.
I’ve lost count of the number of ad-hoc committees this Senate has set up in the last year and so. The names are often long and dramatic: the kind you’d expect from a high-stakes action film, but the outcomes? Nothing. Nada.
Let’s be honest: the number of ad-hoc committees the Senate has set up in the past year could make a seasoned bureaucrat dizzy. But non-zero have yielded anything tangible.
Remember the Ways and Means Committee? Big headlines when it was set up, but not even a whisper since. The Committee on Rivers Emergency Rule? You’d have better luck finding the Rivers’ Mermaid. The Tax Reform Committee, the one on Ajaokuta Steel, the Petroleum Industry Economic Sabotage Committee headed by the Senate leader, and that ever-hopeful panel on Refinery Turn Around Maintenance? All vanished into the legislative Bermuda Triangle.They were all launched with fanfare, with microphones, press releases, and senators pounding tables.
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But once the flashbulbs faded, so did their urgency. It’s as if the creation of the committee was the real job, and the rest was optional. It’s hard to keep a straight face when a Senate that hasn’t delivered a single major oversight report in over a year still claims to be “working behind the scenes.” At this point, the scenes might as well be a beach resort.
Not a single report. Not even a press briefing to say “we’re working on it.” You start hoping to see something, anything that signals actual progress. Instead, you get vague statements, rescheduled hearings, and more recess than a school term.
The saddest part is that the bar is low. All the Senate has to do is show up and show some work. But that seems too much to ask. The House of Representatives, long dismissed as noisy and unserious, has now become the chamber of action, however flawed.
While the Senate snoozes in silk robes, the House sweats through polyester suits and tries to do the job.
The whole thing reminds me of those family gatherings where the oldest uncle arrives late, says little, eats the most, and still insists on leading the closing prayer.
Meanwhile, it’s the younger cousins who did all the cooking, serving, and cleaning.
So yes, it’s time we stopped romanticizing the Senate as the “Upper House.” Upper in what? Air miles? Allowances? Committee launches with no follow-through? Because if we’re measuring actual legislative value, the so-called lower chamber is punching far above its weight.
Maybe it’s time we got honest with the branding. Something like The Chamber of Eternal Breaks. Or The Committee of Comfortable Inaction. Personally, I’m torn between The Assembly of Absence and The Senate of Selective Silence.
Until the Senate rediscovers its backbone or at least its attendance register, those of us who watch from the sidelines will continue to shake our heads in weary amusement. Until something changes, until we start seeing reports with findings, investigations with outcomes, and debates with actual resolutions, we’ll keep doing what we do best: observing, reporting, and, sometimes, satirizing. Because truly, Nigeria can’t afford a Senate that treats governance like an annual spa retreat.
So here’s my reluctant salute to the 10th Senate; uncommon in name, unrivaled in absenteeism, and utterly consistent in the collective act of doing absolutely nothing, together.
