Reflections on Nigeria’s Faltering Democracy
Today’s Democracy Day celebration will be the 22nd since Nigeria’s return to Democracy in 1999. Coming out of one of the darkest period in Nigeria’s post-independence history, there was hope and optimism that we could have turned the corner for good, to commence an onward progress towards development that Nigerians so richly deserve. It’s been 22 years since, and we’re left floundering about, trying to figure out what happened to that hope and optimism that greeted our return to democracy.
I had a conversation with some friends recently where we noted, rather sadly, Nigeria’s consistent decline in virtually every area — quality of governance, leadership, security, economic growth and what have you. In that context of Nigeria’s mediocre experience since 1999, President Olusegun Obasanjo, by a clear margin, stands as Nigeria’s most sterling president since 1999. It appears that each successive administration always contrive to be worse off than their predecessor.
And this is the point where one begin to fear or become agitated. In 2015, Nigerians wanted anyone but President Jonathan. We thought we’ve never had it that bad. As it turned out, we were outrageously wrong. In some circles, people joke with the fact that this present administration has turned President Jonathan’s administration to a saint. It is dreadly therefore, and indeed inconceivable to imagine another administration in 2023 that will be worse than our current miasma.
In 2018, General Buhari announced that Nigeria’s Democracy Day would subsequently be celebrated on June 12, in recognition of the significance of that date in Nigeria’s political history. On the surface, one would think that the official recognition of a day on which many believe Nigeria’s freest and fairest election was held, would signal an intent at the very least, to correct the obvious errors of the past and renew the drive towards a progressive democracy that will engender peace and development for the nation. What followed however, and rather unfortunately, was a dreadful electoral process in 2019, which amidst all its fiascos, set a new mark for Nigeria’s descent into uncharted territory in our opprobrious quest to redefine what democracy is.
We have since rolled from one debacle to another. Our people have been killed needlessly. Villages in different parts of the nation are sacked by marauding armed militias, and in other cases have consigned our people into perpetual fear on their own lands. Food inflation has risen unabated as our people are unable to farm to feed themselves and yet do not have the financial means to buy basic food requirements. An increasing number of young people are either unemployed or underemployed.
And worse still, since that 2019 general elections, we have seen the unpretentious abuse of power. First with the sham called Kogi governorship elections — ridden with violence and fraud, where videos showing state actors either aiding or stepping aside in the face of massive electoral fraud made the rounds on social media. In the immediate aftermath of that election, a woman leader belonging to an opposition party was set ablaze in her own house in broad day light. She died in that inferno — and years later, without justice, she’s firmly sited among the long line of those souls who have perished for the crime of being Nigerians. In that same state, a serving commissioner was accused of rape, accompanied with compelling evidences, yet, the investigation was aborted and life goes on — leaving a fellow human wounded, debased and shattered. One shudder, to even consider the crimes perpetuated in this state any further from here. Yet, the man under whose watch these atrocities were orchestrated is now been laundered in a futile aspiration to Aso Rock.
Yet, in 2020, as though the trauma and pain Nigerians have endured were not enough, we saw another dimension to the wickedness of our rulers. With a global pandemic raging in many parts of the world, while leaders all over the world sought means to provide succor to their people, our own rulers hoarded donated food stuffs meant for the masses. This would be bad on any day, but that it happened at a time when there was lock down and subsequent slowdown in economic activities resulting in job losses, makes this plain evil.
Still, this pales in comparison to the Lekki Shooting. For the crime of demanding for a fairer, and more efficient police, one that respects human rights, particularly one that would respect the sanctity of the lives of young people, young people were fired at while carrying the national flag and singing the national anthem, the very symbols of our nationhood. To worsen this, the Nigerian government could not own up to its own act, rather preferring to deny a livestreamed event. It is almost 8 months later, and as usual, there is no justice for the wounded or for the killed, and the very object that legitimatized the protest in the first place remains unresolved.
In between these calamitous experiences that have barraged our common psyche, there are many others — some known, some less known, others completely unknown and unheard. Like Iniubong Umoren, who was raped and murdered — whose murderer would possibly walk free in the end. Like an NGO leader and his team kidnapped in Ekiti whose family quietly raised the ransom to secure his release without making the affair public for the fear of losing their loved ones. Like community health workers kidnapped in Kogi. Like unreported killings in Southern Kaduna, in Benue, in Kebbi, and in many other places. Like the Greenfield University students — of which some were killed. Like the numerous school children routinely kidnapped. Like so many other cases of needless pain, trauma and tragedy that we will never know about.
Our nation have perfected the art of normalizing crime and the abnormal has become the new normal. When we hear news of kidnapping, or killings, or economic hardships, we are no longer enraged as we would have been some decades ago. An event has to be truly tragic, intense and massive to arouse our feelings. Tragedy is now too common to be a surprise.
With these untoward realities — that are clearly contrarian to any sane notion of democracy, one is constrained to ask, what form of government do we have in our country? Perhaps, we would pay more attention to this when we consider another angle to our decline. Since General Buhari’s ascension to power in 2015, Nigeria’s media space has been slowly but steadily curtailed. From outright buy overs to the use of sanctions and threats, the media space has shrunk consistently. The appendage “with due respect” became popular within the media at a time as folks tender unofficial apology before offering anything that maybe perceived as opposing the government. We are at a point where it is ultra difficult for any media house to be truly independent without irking the powers that be with attendant consequences.
The only exception to this has been the social media — where the freedom of expression of Nigerians have been fully expressed. Unsurprisingly however, there has been several subtle attempt at regulating the social media. None of that was successful until the recent #TwitterBan. While that came as a shock to many, the ban, and those to follow, was an inevitability for this government. One way or the other, they were going to silence any voice not singing their praises, and the #TwitterBan appears to only be the starting point.
What all of these suggest is that Nigeria is stealthily moving away from democracy. At its very core, what we currently have cannot be passed off as a democracy. Consider the following for example: 1) with our electoral process already compromised, Nigerians cannot be sure of electing their leaders, and therefore cannot hold them accountable for their action and inaction as we are currently experiencing. 2) the independence of the three arms of government — as it ought to be in any sane democracy, has already been compromised. The legislature and the judiciary have become mere ceremonial appendages to the executive. For example, at the national level, the FG seem to have full control of the judiciary and have the legislature in its pocket. The same applies at the state level. In fact, JUSUN has been on strike for over two matters over a constitutionally guaranteed matter of judicial independence, yet there is no certainty that their request will be acceded to.
What appears to be the final step in this clear departure from democracy is the eventual silencing of the peoples’ voices. The media space has been gagged already. What is left is ensuring effective control over a “twitterati” generation that doesn’t know how to keep quiet. Once this has been successfully accomplished, the government may carry on with whatever it wants without worrying about the news getting to the outside world. For a moment, imagine a repeat of Lekki Tollgate without social media.
I have listened to some argument that Nigeria is now advancing very quickly towards fascism. My initial reaction was to ignore those advancing this arguments, but every day, the evidences becomes more compelling. There is hardship and suffering in the land, with the attendant consequences of various agitations. State governments appears to be helpless in ensuring security in their states. Altogether, these seem to provide a good pretext for the government to become more authoritarian.
In spite of everything happening, there seem to be nothing, literally nothing capable of halting our decline. Politically, it appears that the opposition is almost nonexistent. The PDP doesn’t seem to possess any coherent strategy as response to this unfolding realities. As things stands today, there is at least some 60–70% chance that the APC will retain power in 2023, this implies a likely continuation of our current experience until at least 2031.
Unfortunately as well, our people are too psychologically traumatized to offer any meaningful opposition. Our collective psyche have been assaulted one time too many. We are a people unimaginably exasperated but tempered and caged and therefore unable to express any collective umbrage regardless of the weight of provocations we are daily pressed with. To make things worse, our high incidence of poverty and economic hardship means that majority of us are primarily preoccupied with how to survive, and would rather trudge along, just to live to see another day.
This also, is not helped by the fact that we run an economy that is built on political patronage. As it stands in many instances, to get anything done or to access any significant financial resource, one must know the right people (or know someone who knows them, or know someone who knows someone who knows them) in the right places. This means that the relationship between people in government (both professionals and nonprofessionals or political appointees) and the people outside of government (both businesses, private sector, and individual service provides or vendors) is so intricately interwoven that people are so cautious not to strain such relationships as their survival depends on maintaining those relationships. The implication is that majority of people (especially those who seem to have the means to their own ends) are unable to take any principled stand regarding some issues because their survival depends on one relationship that the issue may affect.
I have had to admit recently that our hope indeed is very slim and fragile considering everything that stares at us at the moment. Contrary to what some are predicting, in another 10–15 years, Nigeria will not breakup neither will there be another civil war. The reason are that 1) no group has the wherewithal to force a breakup at this point, 2) we are too divided along religious and ethnic lines, 3) our people do not have the means they require to start and sustain a revolt, 4) the government is still capable of maintaining civil order even if that means killing thousands in the process. What is however possible, and which indeed is to be expected, is a continuation of our current descent in varying degrees.
As I conclude this contribution, I must reiterate again (as I have consistently done in other contributions) that our only hope of salvation is in the people. Those of us who know better must consciously choose to make the sacrifice of working to lead our people above the base instincts and sentiments (religious, ethnic and survival) that presently control them and forge a well-structured mass movement of citizens to push for political reforms in our nation. This is our best chance, if not our only chance. Anything else will result in massive destruction and bloodletting on a scale that will scare the bravest among us.
#BoluwajiDavids
