It is deeply disheartening that decades after Nigeria’s return to democracy, the foundational principle of leadership, service to the people, remains grossly misunderstood, if not outright ignored, by many of the country’s elected and appointed public officials. From the local government chairmen in rural communities to the lawmakers and array of political appointees strutting in Abuja and all the local and state government capitals, a shameful number of these officeholders see public office not as a call to serve but as a golden opportunity to enrich themselves, their cronies, and their extended families.

The rot is systemic. Public office in Nigeria has, unfortunately, become synonymous with access to wealth. Instead of being custodians of public trust, many politicians have turned into custodians of private fortunes. The disturbing truth is that some of them run for office not to solve problems or advance national development, but to gain proximity to power, public funds, and prestige. They crave the status and privileges of political office but show little or no concern for the obligations and sacrifices it demands.

Take a cursory look at the lifestyle of many Nigerian politicians. Their ostentatious displays of wealth, exotic cars, sprawling mansions, lavish parties, first-class travels, and foreign medical tourism, are in stark contrast to the poverty-stricken communities they represent. While millions of Nigerians are struggling to eat one decent meal a day, their supposed representatives are signing multi-million naira allowances, awarding bloated contracts to themselves or proxies, and shamelessly defending their excesses on national television.

Even more infuriating is the culture of impunity that enables this behavior. How many public officials are truly held accountable? How many have been jailed for looting public funds? The few cases that make headlines are often marred by prolonged court drama, technicalities, and eventual silence. Corruption cases are frequently reduced to political witch-hunts or mere distractions, and the looters often return to the same political system with renewed vigor and even higher ambitions. The political recycling of corrupt leaders has become a national embarrassment.

The concept of leadership in Nigeria has been bastardized. Leadership should be about vision, responsibility, humility, and service. It should be about providing infrastructure, creating opportunities, improving healthcare, reforming education, and ensuring justice. But in Nigeria, leadership has been reduced to control over allocations, signing off contracts, patronage politics, and feathering personal nests.

Many of our so-called leaders lack the most basic understanding of public service ethics. The moment they are elected or appointed, they forget the people who voted for them. They isolate themselves behind high walls, siren-blaring convoys, and layers of protocol. Their promises to fix roads, build hospitals, improve schools, and fight poverty become distant memories.

The late Dora Akunyili, one of Nigeria’s few public servants who understood the essence of leadership, once said, “The good name you leave behind is better than the billions you looted.” But today, such voices are few and far between. Most Nigerian politicians are obsessed with the next election rather than the next generation. They think in terms of four-year terms, not forty-year legacies.

It is not uncommon to hear stories of a local government chairman who within two years becomes a real estate mogul, or a senator who suddenly owns choice properties in Dubai, London, or South Africa. These are not coincidences; they are clear signs that leadership, as presently practiced by many, is nothing but an enterprise. This enterprise mindset has led to the monetization of every aspect of governance, from civil service recruitment to contract approvals, and even judicial rulings.

This get-rich-quick mentality has damaged the soul of our democracy. Young Nigerians no longer aspire to public office for noble reasons. The narrative on the streets is clear: politics is the shortest route to sudden wealth. As long as this mentality persists, Nigeria will continue to recycle mediocrity, suffer under-development, and lose its brightest minds to “Japa” (mass exodus) syndrome. A nation that rewards impunity and punishes integrity will always struggle to rise.

This is the reason why credible professionals, intellectuals, and technocrats often stay away from politics. They fear being lumped together with the corrupt political class. Until we make politics unattractive to thieves and attractive to patriots, nothing will change. Governance must be redefined in Nigeria to reflect the true essence of service and accountability.

But this tragedy is not irreversible. The tide can change if citizens begin to demand accountability with louder voices and stronger resolve. If the same energy used to support entertainers and football teams can be channeled into civic responsibility, such as asking tough questions, attending town hall meetings, voting wisely, rejecting vote buying, and demanding transparency, we can begin to reclaim the essence of leadership. It starts with awareness and builds into action. Silence in the face of leadership failure is complicity.

It is high time Nigerian politicians learned that leadership is not about privilege but responsibility. They must understand that every naira stolen is a school not built, a hospital not equipped, a road not repaired, a job not created, a stomach left empty, and a dream cut short. Leadership is a sacred trust, and every betrayal of that trust weakens the foundation of our democracy.

The fight to restore the dignity of leadership must be collective. Religious leaders must preach accountability, not just prosperity. Traditional rulers must call out the failings of their political subjects. Civil society organizations must keep pressing, and journalists must continue to expose rot with facts and courage. Most importantly, the Nigerian electorate must rise above tribalism, religion, and handouts, and vote with conscience.

It is also essential that anti-corruption institutions are truly independent and empowered to act without fear or favor. The Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC), the Independent Corrupt Practices Commission (ICPC), and the Code of Conduct Bureau must be shielded from political interference. Until the sacred cows are brought to book, the message will always be clear: stealing in Nigeria is profitable if you have the right political backing.

Public office should be a sacrifice, not a source of luxury. Until Nigerian leaders realize this, and act accordingly, the country will continue to groan under the weight of failed promises and broken systems. The sooner they learn this lesson, the better for the country they swore to serve.

In conclusion, the time has come to rewrite the narrative. Nigerians must begin to insist on a new breed of leaders, those who see office as a responsibility, not an entitlement. Those who understand that leadership is about impact, not income. Those who prioritize nation-building over self-aggrandizement. Until this becomes the standard, our democracy will remain in chains, and the promise of Nigeria will continue to fade.