The justifications offered for the current instability are hardly convincing. Claims of “toxicity,” fears of being denied party tickets, and strategic repositioning are presented as reasons for constant defections. Yet, these explanations only deepen public skepticism. Can any of the principal actors truly absolve themselves of blame? Is this nomadic approach to politics not part of the very problem they decry? Loyalty appears conditional, principles negotiable, and ideology nonexistent.
On Saturday, 25 April, opposition political parties, led by the usual culprits – Atiku Abubakar, Rabiu Kwankwaso and Peter Obi – converged on Ibadan, the Oyo State capital, and issued what they proudly termed the Ibadan Declaration. It was presented as a bold commitment to unite as a common front against the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC) and its perceived misrule. For a brief moment, it sounded like the long-awaited awakening of a fragmented opposition; a signal that perhaps, just perhaps, Nigerians would finally have a credible alternative.
|
|
Under the auspices of the African Democratic Congress (ADC), a party that had only just regained its footing following the Supreme Court affirmation of its David Mark-led leadership, many saw a glimmer of hope. That court ruling was interpreted as a signpost towards consolidation, a necessary foundation for any serious political challenge. Alas, even as the applause from that convergence had barely faded, something else was already cooking in the background.
Barely a week after that highly anticipated and much-welcomed gathering, the romance went awry. In its place, another hurried marriage of convenience and ambition emerged under the banner of the National Democratic Congress (NDC). Predictably, this new alliance has already run into troubled waters. Red flags are everywhere – confusion, overlapping interests, court cases, and in one particularly embarrassing instance, a single individual appearing to occupy legal advisory roles across multiple parties. What sort of confusing and dangerous game is the opposition playing? Is this politics or a chaotic exercise in business incorporation?
|
|
|
|---|
In truth, our politics has become both circus and transaction. The beautiful bride of yesterday, the ADC, has suddenly developed clay feet, and yet the same actors expect Nigerians to believe in their commitment to change. Nigerians desire change, no doubt, but not one that is questionable, inconsistent, and built on shifting sands. At this stage, one is tempted to forget ideology, if it ever truly existed, as well as principles and morality. What remains is a naked scramble for power, reminiscent of the very playbook they claim to oppose.
As Bola Ahmed Tinubu once demonstrated in his political calculations, power is to be grabbed and secured. That is precisely what the opposition now seeks to replicate, albeit clumsily. There is no decency, no steadfast commitment; the values that should guide public conduct have been eroded beyond recognition. What we are witnessing is unprecedented in its brazenness. Nigeria has endured political drama for decades, but this particular spectacle feels fundamentally flawed and embarrassingly hollow.
The tragedy is that a viable opposition is essential to any functioning democracy. Without it, accountability suffers, governance declines, and citizens are left with limited choices. Yet, what Nigerians are confronted with is not a disciplined alternative but a disjointed ensemble of competing ambitions. Names may change – ADC, NDP, APM – but the underlying dysfunction remains the same. Until these actors learn to subordinate personal interests to collective goals, their quest for power will continue to ring hollow.
It has become fashionable to blame institutions such as the Independent National Electoral Commission, the judiciary, and, of course, the current administration. Yes, they bear their shares of responsibility. But the biggest culprits remain the political actors themselves, both in government and in opposition. When an opposition cannot put its own house in order, when internal cracks become glaring, what moral authority does it have to present itself as an alternative? If one ship begins to sink and its passengers hurriedly jump into another already leaking vessel, should Nigerians be expected to board as well?
Even more troubling is the open admission, echoed in political circles, that elements within the government may be exploiting these divisions. Yet, this does not absolve the opposition of responsibility. If your adversary sets a trap and you knowingly walk into it, then the failure is yours. Nigerians are not blind to these manipulations, but they are even less tolerant of incompetence disguised as victimhood. The opposition’s inability to mend fences, to build trust, and to sustain unity is self-inflicted.
History offers a recent reminder. The 2023 electoral outcome was not merely a triumph of the ruling party; it was also a product of the opposition in disarray. Internal betrayals, shifting loyalties, and political backstabbing played decisive roles. Those who undermined their own platforms were later rewarded, reinforcing the cynical belief that in Nigerian politics, the end justifies the means. It is a dangerous precedent; one that continues to poison the system.
The justifications offered for the current instability are hardly convincing. Claims of “toxicity,” fears of being denied party tickets, and strategic repositioning are presented as reasons for constant defections. Yet, these explanations only deepen public skepticism. Can any of the principal actors truly absolve themselves of blame? Is this nomadic approach to politics not part of the very problem they decry? Loyalty appears conditional, principles negotiable, and ideology nonexistent.
If the opposition cannot rise above this cycle of opportunism and disarray, then it inadvertently strengthens the very system it claims to oppose. And in that case, the blame for future electoral outcomes will not lie solely with those in power, but equally with those who failed to present a credible alternative.
This fluid and slippery political culture is not merely an internal affair; it has far-reaching consequences for national stability. It breeds uncertainty, weakens democratic institutions, and alienates citizens who yearn for credible participation. Nigerians are eager to move from passive observers to active participants in shaping their future, but the current spectacle discourages engagement. Trust is eroded, integrity is compromised, and the political space becomes increasingly toxic.
The tragedy is that a viable opposition is essential to any functioning democracy. Without it, accountability suffers, governance declines, and citizens are left with limited choices. Yet, what Nigerians are confronted with is not a disciplined alternative but a disjointed ensemble of competing ambitions. Names may change – ADC, NDP, APM – but the underlying dysfunction remains the same. Until these actors learn to subordinate personal interests to collective goals, their quest for power will continue to ring hollow.
Ultimately, the opposition must decide whether it seeks to serve the Nigerian people or merely to exploit them. The current trajectory suggests the latter. Nigerians are being taken for a ride, offered grand declarations one week and confusion the next. It is not just disappointing; it is insulting to the intelligence of an electorate that deserves better.
If the opposition cannot rise above this cycle of opportunism and disarray, then it inadvertently strengthens the very system it claims to oppose. And in that case, the blame for future electoral outcomes will not lie solely with those in power, but equally with those who failed to present a credible alternative.
Zainab Suleiman Okino (FNGE) chairs the Blueprint Editorial Board. She is a syndicated columnist and can be reached via: [email protected]
