Comrade Shehu Sani, a former senator who represented Kaduna Central in the 8th National Assembly, is not just known for his activism and literary flair, but also for his unfiltered takes on national issues.
In a reflection on his Facebook page last Thursday, he dissected Nigeria’s democratic rhythm with piercing simplicity: “Our four years of democracy—1st year, governance. 2nd year, talking about the next election. 3rd year, campaign for the next election. 4th year, the election.”
That line, brief as it is, offers a damning verdict on the character of our political culture. Ideally, a four-year mandate should mean four years of policy formulation, implementation, and accountability.
But in Nigeria, the tenure is hardly ever allowed to breathe. Just after the swearing-in ceremonies, the attention of most political actors quietly shifts to self-preservation and scheming.
The first year gives a false impression of seriousness. By the second year, subtle ambitions begin to show. The third is swallowed by full-throttle campaigns. And the fourth? That is all about survival at the polls.
This unhealthy obsession with the next election leaves little room for true governance. Projects are abandoned, civil service reforms are paused, and national conversations are hijacked by electoral noise.
The people become spectators in a theatre of endless political performance, often watching the same actors play recycled roles with the same old scripts.
Governance, instead of being a continuum, becomes episodic — determined by where the next votes will come from. Sani’s comment should provoke more than amusement; it demands introspection.
It lays bare the hollowing out of democratic ideals and the misplaced priorities that have plagued our republic. It also raises a critical question: If every elected official spends more time on political arithmetic than on solving pressing issues like insecurity, poverty, or unemployment, how do we ever move forward as a nation.
Until our leaders begin to treat every day in office as sacred, and every year as a chance to deepen progress rather than plot a comeback, democracy in Nigeria will remain a four-year cycle of promises forgotten, plans postponed, and citizens sidelined.
Shehu Sani’s words sting because they are true — and perhaps, because deep down, we all know we have settled for far too little. But that is just the surface. Beneath that truth lies a more corrosive reality — one that speaks to how governance in Nigeria has been deeply personalised, politicised, and in many cases, privatised.
Beyond just political timelines, Sani’s reflection also indicates a wider systemic flaw: the idea that many Nigerian politicians do not see public office as a call to serve, but as a personal fiefdom to secure and retain. That is why the machinery of the state often becomes a campaign tool, and public resources are funneled into personal political survival.
In most mature democracies, the election year is the culmination of policy delivery — a chance to campaign based on concrete results. But in Nigeria, elections often precede performance.
Campaigns are based on promises, not scorecards. And the electorate, weary and cynical, vote more on sentiments than substance. This also has implications for development.
Any project that cannot be completed and celebrated before the next election is simply not prioritised. Long-term investments in education, healthcare, infrastructure, or industrialisation are abandoned in favour of ribbon-cutting schemes that can offer immediate political mileage.
Furthermore, this cycle breeds a culture of transactional politics. Appointments are less about competence and more about strategic loyalty. Budgets are tailored not for impact but for political gratification.
Even policy debates are coloured by the question: how does this help me win the next election? Civil society, too, bears scars from this flawed rhythm. Rather than demand governance, many advocacy groups get co-opted into the electioneering frenzy.
The media, instead of playing watchdog, often becomes a megaphone for campaign slogans. The line between watchdog and lapdog grows thinner with every electoral season.
Young Nigerians, who should be the lifeblood of a democratic revival, are often excluded from the process unless they can dance to the tune of godfathers.
Innovation and fresh thinking are stifled by a system that rewards recycling, not renewal. No wonder voter apathy is on the rise. Sani’s sharp remark also points to a deeper democratic disillusionment.
If politics continues to be about survival instead of service, then the very foundation of democracy — that power belongs to the people — becomes a cruel joke. Citizens are courted before elections and ignored afterwards.
The social contract is breached repeatedly, yet without consequence. And while his comment was focused on the executive and legislative classes, the judiciary is not exempt.
Its recent actions — or inactions — in electoral cases have also contributed to the erosion of faith in democracy. When courts decide winners instead of ballots, what message does that send to the electorate?
If Nigeria must break this cycle, a cultural reorientation is needed. We must begin to value governance more than politicking. Electoral victories should be celebrated less than developmental milestones.
The media must reward performance over popularity. Citizens must demand delivery, not just democracy. Shehu Sani may have simply posted a satirical jab on social media, but the truth he exposed deserves to echo in every state assembly, federal ministry, political party office and newsroom.
Democracy, if it is to survive here, must first become what it was meant to be: government of the people, by the people, for the people — not just during elections, but every day in between.
Nigerian Politicians, Ahead of 2027
As Nigeria inches towards the 2027 general elections, a sober call must be made to all political actors: let ambition be driven by a genuine desire to serve, not by greed for power. Politics must cease to be a desperate scramble for privilege and influence.
Instead, it should be reclaimed as a sacred trust to build a stronger, more united, and prosperous nation that future generations can be proud of. The painful truth is that many Nigerians have grown weary of politicians whose only motivation is personal enrichment or the entrenchment of narrow interests.
The coming elections must not be about securing positions to further loot the treasury or perpetuate mediocrity. It must be about rekindling the founding dream of a Nigeria where hard work, justice, innovation, and patriotism thrive.
Political aspiration should be rooted in a sincere commitment to fix the country, heal its divisions, and restore dignity to public service. Our founding fathers — from Nnamdi Azikiwe, Ahmadu Bello, Obafemi Awolowo to Tafawa Balewa — envisioned a Nigeria that could stand shoulder to shoulder with the world’s greatest nations.
They entered politics not for self-glory, but to lift millions out of ignorance, disease, and poverty. Nigerian politicians of today must summon the courage to emulate that vision, recognising that the power they seek is meaningless if it does not translate into better lives for the ordinary Nigerian.
Ahead of 2027, therefore, the task before political leaders is urgent and clear. Campaigns should not be built on empty slogans or divisive rhetoric. They should be anchored on clear, actionable plans to create jobs, ensure security, strengthen education, rebuild infrastructure, and foster true national unity.
Our fatherland is desperate for leaders who will govern with a sense of history, humility, and a heart that beats genuinely for the masses. Ultimately, public office must be seen not as a prize to be won, but as a burden to be faithfully carried.
True leadership demands sacrifice, discipline, and an unwavering focus on the collective good. Nigerian politicians must ask themselves a simple but profound question: Will history remember us as nation-builders — or as those who squandered another generation’s hopes?
The answer lies in how they choose to pursue power in 2027 and beyond.