Muhammed Jamiu Adoke
Nigerian politics has become a theatre of the absurd where party membership cards are traded like stocks on the exchange floor, and political loyalty has the lifespan of a mayfly. Every electoral cycle brings with it a familiar spectacle; politicians scurrying from one party to another with the desperation of rats abandoning a sinking ship, not because the ship is sinking, but because another vessel promises better cabins and fatter provisions. These political nomads carry no ideological compass, no philosophical anchors, only an insatiable appetite for power and the perks that come with it. They decamp from the All Progressives Congress to the Peoples Democratic Party, then to the Labour Party. Tired, and afraid of becoming irrelevant, they switch to the African Democratic Congress (ADC), and, perhaps tomorrow to whichever alphabet soup of a party offers the most lucrative name and possibly, nomination form(s). The average Nigerian voter watches this carnival with a mixture of amusement and despair, knowing full well that regardless of which party wins, the faces that emerge to “serve” them will likely be the same opportunists who have recycled themselves through the system for decades.
The tragedy of this political promiscuity lies not merely in its shamelessness but in its complete disregard for the foundational principles that ought to govern democratic engagement. When a politician crosses from one party to another, some with the mandate bestowed on them from the party they are leaving, they rarely pause to understand the manifestoes, ideology, or governing philosophy (if that even exists in Nigeria) of their new political home. How can they, when most Nigerian political parties themselves lack discernible ideologies beyond the pursuit of power? The PDP, APC and now, ADC, despite their fierce rivalry, are virtually indistinguishable in their operational blueprints and policy directions. All three houses are built on the same foundation of patronage politics, ethnic calculation, and the concentration of power in the hands of godfathers who pull strings from behind curtains. A politician moving from one to the other(s) is not making an ideological shift; they are simply changing jerseys while playing the same game on the same field with the same rulebook that prioritizes self-enrichment over national development.
This absence of political ideology has created a landscape where accountability is impossible to enforce.
When parties stand for nothing except winning elections, how can citizens hold them accountable for manifestos that were never meant to be implemented? Manifestoes the flag bearers do not even understand themselves? Campaign promises are scattered like confetti during rallies, colourful and momentarily exciting, but ultimately disposable. For instance, the politician who promised to fix roads under the banner of the APC will, upon defecting to the PDP or ADC make the same promises with the same gusto and the same insincerity. There is no institutional memory, no track record that follows these political hustlers from one party to another, no mechanism that compels them to answer for yesterday’s promises today. The manifestoes themselves are deceitful documents, crafted not as governance blueprints but as marketting materials designed to seduce voters during campaign season and gather dust immediately after. Until Nigerian political parties develop coherrent, ideologically grounded manifestoes and create internal structures to enforce compliance, these cycle of promises and betrayals will continue unabated.
It is instructive to assert that the root of this systemic dysfunction is the triumph of selfish interest over national purpose. Nigerian politicians approach governance not as a sacred trust but as a business venture with guaranteed returns. They invest millions and billions of Naira in campaign expenses, not out of a burning desire to serve their communities, but with the clear expectation that political office(s) will yield profits many times over. This transactional approach to politics explains why politicians are willing to mortgage their dignity and jump through any hoop necessary to secure party tickets and electoral victories. It also explains why governance in Nigeria often feels like an afterthought, a tedious obligation that must be minimally fulfilled between the more important tasks of securing the next election and consolidating financial gains. When politics becomes purely about primitive accumulation of wealth, looting and re-looting, which can all be coined into one as the ‘Malamization of state treasury’, rather than policy implementation, when the metric for success is how much wealth one extracts from office rather than how many lives one transforms, the entire democratic experiment becomes a fraud perpetrated on the masses who queue under the sun to vote.
What makes this situation particularly frustrating is the absence of any coherrent national plan or structure for political mobilization across party lines. Developed democracies thrive on robust political infrastructure where parties maintain year-round engagement with constituents, develop policy experts, groom future leaders, and build institutional knowledge that transcends individual politicians. In Nigeria, political parties exist primarily as vehicles for electoral competitions, springing to life months before elections and hibernating immediately after. There are no serious party schools, no systematic training programs for aspiring politicians, no think-tanks developing evidence-based policies tailored to Nigerian realities. Party secretariats are often empty shells, understaffed and underfunded, incapable of performing the basic functions of political education and grassroots mobilization. This structural weakness makes parties easy prey for political hustlers who can breeze in, buy their way to prominence, and breeze out when conditions become unfavourable. Without investing in permanent political infrastructure, Nigerian parties will remain mere electoral machines rather than genuine vehicles for democratic participation and national transformation.
Again and again, the exorbitant cost of politics in Nigeria serves as both symptom and cause of this mallaise. When the price of a nomination form runs into multi-millions of naira, and the total cost of running a credible campaign can bankrupt a small business, politics becomes the exclusive preserve of the wealthy and the corrupt. Young Nigerians with fresh ideas, genuine commitment to public service, and the energy to drive change are systematically excluded from the political arena by financial barriers that seem designed to maintain the status quo. The irony is bitter and gruesome; those who can afford to pay these astronomical fees are often those who view politics purely as an investment, while those who are genuinely passionate about service lack the resources to compete. This creates a vicious cycle where only those motivated by profit can afford to participate, ensuring that governance remains transactional rather than transformational. If Nigeria is to break free from this cycle, drastic reductions in the cost of political participation must be implemented. Campaign financing reforms, publicly funded elections, and strict limits on campaign spending could democratize access to political office(s) and open the doors to a new generation of leaders whose primary asset is not their bank balance but their vision for a better Nigeria.
As far as this writer is concerned, the solution to Nigeria’s political hustling epidemic must be multi-pronged and systemic. First, political parties must be compelled through legislation and public pressure to develop clear ideological positions and detailed policy frameworks that differentiate them from one another. The Independent National Electoral Commission should establish stricter requirements for party registration that include demonstrable ideological foundations and structured internal democratic processes. Second, laws should be enacted to discourage political party-hopping by imposing waiting periods and other penalties on serial defectors, making it costly for politicians to treat party membership as disposable. Third, massive investment in civic education is needed to create an informed electorate that demands accountability and punishes political opportunism at the ballot box. When voters begin to ask hard questions about why a politician has changed parties three times in ten years, and when such questions influence electoral outcomes, politicians will think twice before hopping. Fourth, younger Nigerians must be deliberately integrated into political structures through reduced nomination fees for youth candidates, reserved slots for young people on party executive committees, and mentorship programs that transfer institutional knowledge from one generation to the next without perpetuating the vices of the old guard.
The hustlers will not voluntarily cede ground; they must be pushed out by a combination of reformed institutions, engaged citizens, and determined young people who refuse to accept that Nigerian politics must always be this way. The party-less politicians who float from one political home to another like tumbleweeds in the desert have thrived because the system has allowed them to, because citizens have been too exhausted or too cynical to demand better, and because the structures that should enforce discipline and ideology have been deliberately weakened. But nothing in Nigeria’s political trajectory is inevitable. There are many routes to Ohinoyi’s palace, hence, with deliberate reforms, sustained civic engagement, and a new generation willing to do politics differently, it is possible to transform the landscape from a marketplace of hustlers to a genuine arena of competing ideas and visions for national development. The question is not whether change is possible but whether Nigerians are ready to pay the price of that change through sustained pressure, reformed institutions, and the courage to reject the politics of yesterday in favour of something better. The hustlers have had their days plentifully; it is time for the builders to take the stage. May the sun shine tomorrow…
– Muhammed Jamiu Adoke is a Political Analyst, Social Commentator, and Lecturer in the department of Arts Education, University of Abuja, Nigeria. Email: muhammedjamiuadoke@gmail.com
