Since the Nigerian presidency has devoted itself to responding to every criticism of the government and its administrative failings, it is unsurprising that media aide Bayo Onanuga faulted the recent claim by the outgoing President of the African Development Bank, Akinwumi Adesina, that Nigerians lived a better life in the 1960s going by the GDP per capita. Onanuga argued that Dr Adesina should know that GDP per capita is not the only criterion used to determine whether people live better lives now than in the past. Indeed, it is a poor tool for assessing living standards. Its primary usefulness is in giving us the metrics to compare economic output in a country or between countries. Then he adds that today, as we await the NBS’s recalibration of our GDP, we can comfortably say without contradiction that it is at least 50 times, if not 100 times, more than it was at Independence.

 What Onanuga has done here is to spill a lot of needless ink to arrive at the same spot where he started. If the GDP is not a reliable marker of economic growth and development, why still wait for a favourable NBS figure to contradict Adesina?

 In any case, the two truths that might be operating here might not be mutually contradictory. Statistics can show growth since 1960, while Nigerians qualitatively live far less than they did 60 years ago. On that score, Onanuga is right that numbers are not the only means of scaling a society’s achievements. Figures objectively calculate how an average person lives (or lived) but do not paint the full picture of the internal substance of such a life. If we want to get to the truth, we must also probe social experience. In this case, we can ask the people who lived in the 1960s what their lives were like and how their experience compares to the present.

 Now this is where it gets tricky. If you line up one thousand Nigerians who have lived through the various seasons of the nation’s history and ask them if the country was better in the 1960s, I can bet that there will be far more who would agree that the country used to be better. Why is that so? First, because human memory is prone to recall the past with nostalgia, and that makes for pessimism about the conditions of the present. The human brain is wired to scan the arc of personal history and promote the positive recollections of the past over those of the immediate present. It is sometimes called the declinism bias, and it is not peculiar to Nigerians. You find the echoes of the “good old days” in the “Make America Great Again” politics where a section of United States citizens thinks the old times were better than now when by every parameter, they are a richer and stronger country. 

But in the case of Nigeria, people know what they are saying when they look back wistfully at the past and declare that life used to be better. I have older friends in their 70s, 80s, and 90s. Their recollection of how life used to be in Nigeria sometimes feels like the vision of the Nigeria I would love to see. If they are of the formally educated class, these folks would fondly recall the Nigeria where they received a sound education at all levels. Public schools were not as dilapidated; nobody ever recalls where students sat on the floor in their roofless classrooms. Public education was so good that the children of the elites attended the same schools as everyone else. You could be a poor village boy from rural Igbomina and attend Government College with the children of the powerful. Education was not as cheapened through private schools.

 Those who made it to the university among them would recall receiving an education in the true sense of the word. Nobody needed to go to school abroad; Nigerian universities offered world-class education. They would recall a university system where the hostels were not crammed with students; the facilities worked, and undergraduates lived like actual human beings, unlike the appalling situation that subsists on most campuses. That was, of course, the generation that also had a quarter chicken for lunch on Sundays. People would also recall that fresh university graduates had jobs waiting for them after school, and you could buy a car with your salary. Whether they are educated or not, everyone can recall a time when the country was safe and secure, and one could travel through its length and breadth without fearing abduction by Fulani herdsmen. While the past might not be as picture-perfect as generally painted, there is enough substance in people’s recollections to demonstrate how much we have declined. The Nigeria some of us dream of living in has already been lived out by our forebears, imagine!

 So yes, while the rebased GDP figures will expectedly look better, there is a lot of decline in the quality of our Nigerian life. Why do we even need to go as far as the 1960s to apprehend what has happened to our Nigerian lives? There are closer examples of a lack of progress. We are a country that once produced as much as 7,000MW of electricity in 2014. In 2025 and with multiple grid collapses, we struggle with 5,500MW. The Nigerian population has increased, and with it the demand for electricity, but the supply has only declined. Does anyone really need the GDP per capita to divine how a country that cannot sustain its modest gains would suffer socially and economically? An older relative once told me that the Energy Corporation of Nigeria—the company that supplied power in their youth—used to give an advance notification if there would be a power outage. Tell that to the generation of young Nigerians who have never lived in a world without the crazy hum of a generator bursting through their brains, and they would think you are lying.

Electricity is one aspect; the general state of public infrastructure is another. A generation has never witnessed a Nigeria where public utilities worked. Ask the young person living in Nigeria, where the GDP is supposedly 50 to 100 times better—a la Onanuga—if they know that we used to get water supply from a public water corporation, and they would perhaps be genuinely surprised. Look at places like our hospitals, especially the public ones, where people complement the paltry services they receive there with prayers and tell us how much better we have it. Even our leaders cannot entrust their lives to the public hospitals they fund. The slightest malady, and they are already on their way to France or the UK to receive proper healthcare.

In 2023, I visited the University College Hospital, Ibadan and what I saw there is a story best not told. Yes, the GDP must have multiplied about a hundred times since UCH was first founded in 1952, but nothing in that hospital currently reflects it. You can say the same for every aspect of our Nigerian lives. We have added many more zeroes to our national statistics, but our lives remain internally empty. Whereas countries like China and the UAE that lifted a huge percentage of their population out of poverty do not rely on media aides like Onanuga to sàlàyé progress on social media with spurious figures. Unlike our own situation, their results speak for themselves.

Former governor of Delta State and vice presidential candidate of the Peoples Democratic Party, PDP, in the 2023 elections, Dr. Ifeanyi Okowa, has been in the news in recent times following his defection from the political party that made him a commissioner, secretary to state government, senator and governor, to the ruling All Progressives Congress, APC.

His defection didn’t surprise many. In a clime where politicians stand for nothing because they lack firm moral compass, falling for anything is a natural consequence. It is even more so where political parties are ideologically bankrupt.

But in an effort to ingratiate himself with President Bola Tinubu, Okowa has been making many awkward, if not spurious anti-democracy claims. For instance, on April 29, he patronisingly said Tinubu must complete a phantom “eight-year tenure.”

He said: “I do believe that, yes, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu was elected president in 2023, and for the stability of Nigeria, it is best for us to have him complete his eight-year tenure. Then the presidency can move back to the North.”

It is preposterous for Okowa to talk about Tinubu completing a non-existent eight-year tenure” when he knows full well that we only have a four-year electoral mandate in Nigeria, the reason why elections are held every four years. Even when the Constitution guarantees two terms, that does not translate to an automatic eight-year tenure.

Granted, it is no longer news that Nigerians have a penchant for bastardising even the most pristine of concepts and, therefore, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that we are doing what we know how best: making a mess of democracy even when we are not reinventing its wheels.

But our collective tomfoolery does not detract from idea the idea of democracy which originated from the Greek words “demos”, meaning people, and “kratos” meaning power. So, democracy, simply put, means “power of the people.” It is a governance model that depends solely on the will of the people and in which laws, policies, leadership, and major undertakings of a state are decided by the people directly or indirectly.

Democracy has evolved over the centuries with different models emerging across the world. But that notwithstanding, genuine democracies strive to uphold the core principles of rule by the people, equality and freedom, accountability and transparency, rule of law, periodic fair and free elections where eligible citizens can choose their representatives without let or hindrance.

Election is the oxygen of every democracy because it is a referendum writ large. That is when those in elective political offices and their political parties go back to the electorate with their score cards for them to make the consequential decision of either revalidating the mandate or repudiating same. In which case, a second term becomes a vote of confidence whereas rejection at the polls is a no confidence vote.

But in the last 26 years, Nigerians have watched helplessly as these values are wantonly abused and all democratic guardrails systematically dismantled by those charged with the responsibility of safeguarding them.

The very idea of a democracy is that the people have the ultimate say. In doing that, the basic freedoms of speech, assembly, press, as well as the right to vote must remain sacrosanct. The reverse is the case here and the dismantling of these democracy guardrails is intentional.

To be sure, this anomaly didn’t start with the Tinubu presidency. Olusegun Obasanjo messed up the Fourth Republic democracy particularly with his ill-fated third-term gambit, and ever since, it has been a slippery slope. But Tinubu has worsened the situation in the last two years.

That is why Okowa’s “eight-year tenure” proposition which suggests that the conduct of elections every four years should be of no moment, henceforth, is scary. Why should Tinubu complete “his” eight years when he was elected for a four-year tenure?

Make no mistake, Okowa and his co-travellers on this pseudo-democratic boulevard are not pleading with the electorate to renew Tinubu’s mandate come 2027 because to do so, he must convince the people with his performance in the first four years. Mid-way into his first term, he has failed and there is nothing to show that the remaining two years will be any different.

So, we have moved from Obasanjo’s do-or-die elections. Nigerians are now being blackmailed that unless Tinubu serves out his phantom “eight-year tenure” willy-nilly, national security will no longer be guaranteed. This is a dangerous proposition because the principle of holding periodic elections is an essential element of democracy globally recognised. Article 21 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, adopted by the United Nations General Assembly in 1948, states that “the will of the people shall be the basis of the authority of government; this will shall be expressed in periodic and genuine elections…”

Besides, if Tinubu must serve his “eight-year tenure,” why must we hold elections in 2027? We may well have a single tenure of eight years because every election digs a very deep hole into the national coffers.

For instance, the National Assembly approved a budget of N355 billion for the Independent National Electoral Commission, INEC, for the conduct of the 2023 general election, out of which the sum of N313.4 billion was released as at September 2023 according to INEC’s report of February 24, 2024.

Based on the key activities in the approved Election Project Plan for the 2023 general election, INEC initially proposed a budget of N305 billion – N159.7 billion for electoral operations; N117. 3 billion for electoral technology; N20.4 billion for electoral administrative costs; and N7.4 billion set aside for unforeseen electoral expenses – for the conduct of the elections.

But after the National Assembly appropriated the sum of N303.1 billion, INEC, claiming that the approved amount will no longer be enough due to “the inflation rate and consumer price index as well as the widening differentials in the foreign exchange rate” requested for a N52 billion supplementary appropriation in early 2023.

The electoral umpire said the breakdown of the appropriated amount on the basis of the Average Cost per Registered Voter, ACRV, for the 93,469,008 registered voters in Nigeria was N3,801 (US$6.72) per voter, which it claimed was well within the internationally acceptable Average ACRV of $4 to $8 deemed adequate for the conduct of elections in transitional democracies.

Never mind that at the end, the 2023 general election recorded only 24.9 million (about 26.72 per cent) voter turnout, the lowest since the country’s return to democracy in 1999. So, since the budget was based on ACRV for 93.5 million registered voters and only 24.9 million turned out, what happened to the budget? Shouldn’t the commission return some unspent funds back to state coffers or better still carry over the budget to the next election cycle?

No, that won’t be typical.

Needless to say that the approved budget is aside support from development partners, which even when it does not come in cash, is nevertheless used in defraying costs for services that INEC would have otherwise paid for.

Since then, more funds have been appropriated for INEC by the National Assembly. N40 billion was approved for its 2024 operations. But the INEC Chairman, Prof Mahmoud Yakubu, expressing concern that it was too paltry for shouldering the financial burden of organising 21 bye-elections has proposed a budget of N126 billion for its 2025 operations. In essence, Nigeria continues to pour more money into elections that have increasingly become opaque and fraudulent leading to unprecedented voter apathy.

The 2023 INEC budget was a 62 per cent increase over the N189.2 billion spent for the 2019 elections, which in itself is higher than the N108.8 billion spent in conducting the 2015 elections. So, the more the country spends on elections, the worse the outcomes as was grievously manifest on February 25, 2023, when, despite the colossal sums handed to Yakubu, and despite his very loud assurances, he rewarded Nigerians with the worst elections ever; an uncanny manifestation of a country whose institutions have no commitment to excellence and a people too comfortable with mediocrity.

Only God knows how much INEC will budget for the 2027 elections. It will definitely surpass the half a trillion naira threshold. All that for elections where we have been told beforehand that there are no vacancies, that an incumbent who should be sweating to revalidate his mandate must be allowed to complete his “eight-year tenure” as of right. So, why spend our scarce resources going for elections where “Their Excellences” are already assured of victory no matter what the electorate say? Surely, such monies could be put to better use. Let us have one term of eight years or even 20 years, and save all of us the needless stress and fortune.

In a landmark judgement that could deal with those who lend themselves to electoral malpractices in Nigeria, the Court of Appeal in Calabar last week upheld the conviction of Peter Ogban. The professor of soil science at the University of Calabar was the returning officer in the 2019 Akwa Ibom North West senatorial election, which he attempted to rig in favour of the man who is now our Senate President: Godswill Akpabio. But we must first commend the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) for the quiet way it has been prosecuting otherwise respected academics who were hired on an ad hoc basis for elections which they ended up compromising. Three months ago, Ignatius Uduk, another professor of Human Kinetics at the University of Uyo, was also successfully prosecuted by INEC for his misconduct during the Essien Udim state constituency election where he served as the returning officer in 2019.

Now to the Ogban matter. Akpabio, we all recall, was governor of Akwa Ibom State between 2007 and 2015 on the platform of the then ruling (but now main opposition) Peoples Democratic Party (PDP). After his gubernatorial tenure ended in 2015, he contested for Senate on the platform of the same PDP and won. At the Senate, Akpabio became the Minority Leader. Two years later, he ditched the party for the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC) on which ticket he contested the 2019 senatorial election against 10 other candidates, including Christopher Ekpenyong, a former Akwa Ibom State deputy governor, who ran on the PDP platform. At the end, Ekpenyong won with 118,215 votes while Akpabio polled 83,158 votes.

However, before that declaration at the INEC state office in Uyo by Ogban, there had been some unsavoury developments at the Ikot Ekpene senatorial collation centre that led to the intervention of the then Resident Electoral Commissioner (REC) in the state, Mr Mike Igini. The details are in the 25th March 2021 judgement of Justice Augustine D. Odokwo of the Akwa Ibom State High Court, Ikot Ekpene Division—the same judgement affirmed by the Court of Appeal in Calabar last week. In 32 pages and 13788 words, Justice Odokwo laid bare the failed attempt by Ogban to thwart the will of the Akwa Ibom North West senatorial electorate.

With the INEC as complainant, Ogban was arraigned on 15th December 2020 on a two-count charge of fraudulent manipulation of polling results and announcement of fake election results, both punishable under section 123 of the Electoral Act, 2010 (as amended). The summary of the case is that in the process of collating results on 24th February 2019, during which the collation/returning officer for each local government would publicly announce and then tender original copy, Ogban (as Senatorial Collation/Returning Officer) deliberately wrote results that were different from what were announced and at variance with the documents submitted to him for Etim Ekpo and Oruk Anam local government areas.

During the trial, the INEC principal witnesses who served as returning officers/collation officers in the two contentious local government areas are both lecturers at the University of Uyo: Dr. John Udoidem, who is currently the Head of the Department of Banking and Finance, and Dr. Itemobong Ekaidem, a lecturer in the Department of Chemical Pathology. In his testimony, Udoidem said he was announcing the scores in the EC8C (1) form to Ogban in a loud voice, digit after digit in the presence of so many people, including agents of all parties. “In my Form – Exhibit 2, APC had a total vote of 10,534 while PDP had 25,123. The difference noted is that in Exhibit 3, the accused person recorded for APC – 15,534, an increase of 5,000. For PDP, the accused person recorded 20,123. The figure there was reduced by 5,000,” Udoidem said.

Although Ogban claimed to have recorded the figures he heard as against what was in the documents submitted to him, Justice Odokwo found his defence unbelievable: “…matching the figures of votes recorded by the APC in exhibit 2 which is 10,534 with the figure 15,534 as per exhibit 3, I will not require the aid of any magnifying glasses to see and come to the irresistible conclusion that the votes for APC was inflated with 5000 votes as against what was originally recorded in exhibit 2 by the Local Government Collation Officer, Dr. John Udoidem, the PW1.”

Another INEC witness, Ekaidem, had a similar problem with Ogban. What he called out as results for Etim Ekpo local government area were, ‘APC – 2,671, PDP – 6,603’ but the professor, who argued on the point that vowel/pronunciation could be misunderstood, recorded 5,671 for the APC and 3,306 for the PDP. “I read out the scores to the public and also to the Ikot Ekpene Senatorial Collation Officer (and) at the end of it, I submitted the copy I was reading to the accused person,” Ekaidem said while testifying against Ogban.

In his judgement, which has been affirmed by the appeal court, Justice Odokwo asked a pertinent question: “Can a reasonable man confronted with the kind of response given by the accused person that he did not compare the figures before filling exhibit 3 say the accused person as a professor acted diligently?” The judge answered his own question: “I would certainly not think so… this court cannot accept the evidence of the accused person as that of a credible witness given his position as a professor in the academic field.” And then this: “How can the accused be comfortable relying on what he heard rather than what is in a document, especially as it touches and concern figures?”

The subtext of the story is that Igini, as then REC in Akwa Ibom State, played a central role in eventually holding the erring INEC ad hoc staff accountable. However, even though he would have been the beneficiary had Ogban succeeded with his manipulation, Akpabio has consistently disowned the professor who pleaded for mercy when convicted in 2021. “This is an eye-opener for anyone who participated in local, state or national activities to do so with dexterity and not take anything for granted,” Ogban had told Justice Odokwo four years ago following his conviction. “I plead that you grant me 100 per cent mercy and allow me to go and continue with my responsibilities. If I lose my source of income, it means all the dependants I have mentioned will suffer, especially the condition of my aged mother.”

Meanwhile, it is true that Akpabio challenged the declaration of Ekpenyong as winner of the election, and a rerun was ordered in one local government by the Court of Appeal in Calabar. But let’s examine the facts. On that fateful election night on 24th February 2019, Ekpenyong was leading comfortably after results of nine local governments had been declared. The only outstanding result was from one local government: Essien Udim local government area where Akpabio hails from. When that result eventually arrived, Akpabio had 61,399 votes—enough to give him overall victory. That is ‘Rigging 101’ in the manual of how-to-game elections in Nigeria!

That night in Ikot Ekpene collation centre, it was the intervention of Igini that prevented what could have been a violent crisis. He ordered a suspension of the process and directed all the electoral officers to Uyo, the state capital. After cancelling results from several wards in Essien Udim local government that were considered not genuine, INEC called the election in favour of Ekpenyong. As returning officer for the senatorial district, it was Ogban who was saddled with the responsibility of announcing the result. But by then, the professor was already battling for his reputation over Etim Ekpo and Oruk Anam local governments results.

Akpabio, of course, mounted a fierce legal challenge against INEC, alleging manipulation of the results for which he accused Igini. He failed in his bid. Both the tribunal and appellate court upheld INEC’s claim that only 19,455 voters were accredited in Essien Udim local government. And with that, the 61,399 votes recorded in favour of Akpabio which the commission rejected were considered as lacking credibility. However, on grounds of non-compliance with the Electoral Act 2010 (as amended), Justice Tanko Husseini ordered a rerun in Akpabio’s local government of Essien Udim before a winner could be announced. When the rerun election eventually held in January 2020 and the final figures were tallied, Ekpenyong won with 134,717 votes to 83,820 votes by Akpabio.

Following the appeal court judgement in November 2019, INEC Public Affairs Officer in Akwa Ibom State, Don Etukudo, said the commission had been vindicated in its position that the Essien Udim election was characterised by “massive rigging and manipulations that culminated in the dubious award of 61,329 votes to Senator Akpabio alone in the LGA.”  Etukudo argued that what INEC thwarted was the plot to use a fraudulent result from one local government to neutralise results from nine other LGAs in the senatorial district. “Thugs had gone on the rampage in most parts of the LGA as soon as the polls were open,” Etokudo recounted. “They snatched and stuffed ballot boxes, foreclosed the use of Smart Card Readers, brutalised INEC ad hoc personnel and prevented voters from exercising their franchise.”

With the conviction of Professor Ogban, there are important lessons for all stakeholders in the electoral process. I have observed elections in numerous countries, including within the continent, and I never witness the kind of desperation I see in Nigeria where almost every actor is attempting to game the exercise. The challenge is now on how we can resolve a problem that is both systemic and pervasive. Why should our elections be conducted almost like war? Closure of borders, shutdown of businesses and offices, restrictions of movement, deployment of a disproportionate number of police and security personnel as well as military troops etc.

There are so many issues we need to deal with, including how long and difficult it is to prosecute electoral offenders. This case started six years ago and may still reach the Supreme Court. In the immediate, to restore integrity to the ballot box, we must ensure that there are consequences for bad behaviour. The watchword here is accountability. The moment electoral officers know that ‘lending a helping hand’ to politicians can land them in jail, they will think twice before getting involved in such malpractices.

Koyinsola @ 50

Ms Koyinsola Olukoya, a director with Kapital Communications, will be 50 on Saturday. Perhaps so that we would not eat Jollof rice, she decided to ‘Japa’ out of Abuja. Koyinsola has been the biggest supporter of my wife’s Not Forgotten Initiative (NFI) School which provides free education for more than a hundred underserved children in Abuja. She pays the tuition fees for the NFI extension students in secondary schools and also visits them. I wish ‘Momo Mayowa’ happy birthday, long life and good health.

As early as 5:00 am today, May 7, 2025, I found myself immersed in the online edition of the Lusaka Times, a Zambian newspaper I read frequently to broaden my understanding of African politics. Among the stories I stumbled upon was a thought-provoking piece titled “Staging Defections Is an Outdated Way of Doing Politics.”

The moment I read through the story, I was subconsciously drawn into a deep reflection on Nigeria’s political landscape. With a sigh, I whispered to myself: “What an irony!” Here I was, reading about a country where political defection, long a dominant feature in Nigeria’s political scene, is now regarded as outdated and archaic.

The story quoted Reagan Kashinga, the Socialist Party’s Copperbelt Provincial Vice Chairperson and spokesperson, who criticized Zambia’s ruling United Party for National Development (UPND) for orchestrating defections from opposition parties to create a façade of popularity. In his words, “Staging defections is an outdated way of doing politics.” That simple sentence hit me like a thunderbolt, considering how in Nigeria, defections are still seen as the lifeblood of political maneuvering.

Kashinga’s bold assertion is a sharp contrast to what we see in Nigeria, where defections are not only common but celebrated like national achievements. Each time a politician defects, especially to the ruling party, it is treated like a major news event, accompanied by colorful ceremonies, media fanfare, and carefully worded speeches filled with promises and sycophancy. The crowd is usually hired, the ‘defectors’ are recycled, and the promises made often fizzle out before the ink dries on the press release.

Unlike Zambia, where at least some voices still raise alarms about the moral and democratic implications of defections, Nigeria has become a haven for political carpet-crossing. There is hardly a political season in Nigeria without mass defections. A senator elected under Party A today will jump to Party B tomorrow if things don’t go his way, and then return to Party A the next week if offered the right incentives.

Let us not sugarcoat it: political defection in Nigeria is not a strategy for ideological realignment, it is a strategy for personal survival. It is not driven by conviction but by convenience. It has little or nothing to do with public interest, but everything to do with private gain.

The trend has become so pervasive that Nigerian voters barely bat an eyelid when a politician dumps one party for another. We have grown accustomed to seeing supposed “opposition leaders” sit comfortably at the table with ruling party chieftains after changing jerseys mid-match, so to speak. The defector often justifies the move by claiming they want to “join hands to develop the country” or “align with the vision of the President,” yet, development remains elusive, and the vision remains blurred.

Political defection in Nigeria is not just a trend; it has become a theater of absurdity. Consider the fact that in the run-up to every election cycle, there is a frenzy of defections, almost like a migration season in the animal kingdom. It is common to see political leaders switching allegiances without regard for the mandates given to them by their constituents. Nobody resigns to recontest under a new party. The seat, once won, is treated as personal property, regardless of the party platform on which it was secured.

Take the example of a former Speaker or Senate President switching parties on the eve of an election, dragging along dozens of lawmakers. These political gymnasts often go on to win re-election, not because the people support their antics, but because of the massive state resources deployed to buy votes and suppress opposition.

Ironically, these defections are not limited to the legislative class. Governors, former ministers, and even presidential aspirants routinely dump parties for the ruling coalition once they sense the tides are no longer in their favor. What should be condemned as betrayal of public trust is hailed as political “realignment.”

Back to Zambia, where Mr. Kashinga called the bluff of the ruling UPND’s staged defections, labelling them as archaic and deceitful. He challenged the government to instead address critical issues such as load shedding, cost of living, and economic reforms. His words were not only brave but insightful. He reminded the political elite that the only meaningful way to gain popularity is by performance, not propaganda.

Contrast this with Nigeria, where politicians still believe that defecting to the ruling party is the only way to retain relevance, avoid prosecution, or secure juicy appointments. Public service has become transactional. Politics has become a chessboard of selfish ambitions.

The Zambian political class may not be perfect, but if at least some of their voices are now calling out the futility of political defection as a popularity tool, then they are ahead of Nigeria in political maturity.

Let us face the truth: Nigerian voters are partly to blame for this menace. Our political culture still worships personalities over principles. We cheer politicians who defect to “our side,” forgetting that their loyalty lies not with the people, but with their pockets.

Until the average voter begins to ask tough questions, about ideology, performance, consistency, and commitment, we will continue to be victims of recycled leaders who lack vision and integrity.

We must begin to reject defectors unless they can convincingly demonstrate that their move is based on policy alignment rather than personal gain. We must demand laws that mandate elected officials to vacate their seats if they switch parties without clear justifications tied to public interest. The courts must stop enabling political prostitution under the guise of technicalities.

That a country like Zambia, a fellow African democracy, is boldly calling out defections as outdated should be a wake-up call to Nigeria. What we are celebrating here is being condemned elsewhere. What we see as strategy is seen as shame.

The time has come for us to ask ourselves: What exactly do we want from our politicians? Is it loyalty to party lines, or loyalty to the people? Is it jumping ship for survival, or standing firm for service?

As 2027 approaches, the Nigerian electorate must take notes from Zambia. It is time we stopped celebrating political defections and started demanding political direction. The real defection we need is a defection from backwardness, impunity, and mediocrity to responsibility, accountability, and progress.

What an irony indeed!