“What exists in Nigeria today is not consensus but the suffocation of internal democracy by a handful of godfathers, incumbent governors and Abuja power brokers who arrogate to themselves the exclusive right to determine who governs millions of citizens.”
Democracy derives its moral legitimacy from the consent of the governed, not from the decrees of a conclave of self-appointed patriarchs hiding behind the deceptive language of “consensus”.
Across Nigeria today, particularly within the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC), what is being marketed as consensus has degenerated into a crude machinery of imposition, patronage, intimidation and political gangsterism.
It is no longer a democratic process, but an orchestrated coronation supervised by political overlords who mistake longevity in politics for ownership of the people’s mandate.
The concept of consensus itself is not inherently evil. In mature democracies, consensus can emerge organically after robust consultations, negotiations and voluntary withdrawals among aspirants. Genuine consensus presupposes equality of opportunity, freedom of dissent and the absence of coercion.
However, the current Nigerian adaptation of consensus bears none of these democratic attributes. What exists in Nigeria today is not consensus but the suffocation of internal democracy by a handful of godfathers, incumbent governors and Abuja power brokers who arrogate to themselves the exclusive right to determine who governs millions of citizens.
The 2026 Electoral Act, by retaining and legitimising the consensus option within party primaries, inadvertently opened the floodgates for the institutionalisation of anti-democratic practices. Rather than deepening participation, the provision has become a constitutional alibi for political manipulation.
It has transformed political parties into private estates controlled by entrenched interests. The ordinary party member, whose participation ought to define democracy, has been reduced to a mere spectator in a process supposedly designed to reflect his will.
The tragedy is most visible within the APC structure in Lagos, where a collection of politically-exhausted elders, operating under the banner of the Governance Advisory Council (GAC), have elevated themselves into unelected monarchs of the democratic space.
Many of them command neither electoral value, nor mass followership. Their relevance exists only within the closed chambers of elite bargaining, yet they presume the authority to determine who becomes governor of a state with over 20 million people.
Lagos politics was once guided by a noble understanding rooted in inclusion, accommodation and regional balance. The IBILE arrangement, Ikeja, Badagry, Ikorodu, Lagos Island and Epe, reflected recognition that every historical administrative division of Lagos deserved a sense of belonging within the political architecture of the state. These divisions constituted the original administrative centres from which present local governments emerged.
Under this gentleman’s understanding, governorship power was expected to rotate among the five divisions to ensure equity and stability. Lateef Jakande represented Lagos Island between 1979 and 1983. In 1993, the governorship was effectively zoned to Epe Division, which explained why the governorship candidates of both the SDP and NRC emerged from that axis.
Unfortunately, the return to civil rule in 1999 witnessed the gradual burial of that balancing philosophy. Bola Tinubu emerged from Ikeja Division. He was succeeded by Babatunde Fashola, also from Ikeja Division. Thereafter came Akinwunmi Ambode from Epe Division. After Ambode, power shifted to Lagos Island Division through Babajide Sanwo-Olu. Meanwhile, Ikorodu and Badagry divisions remain excluded from the governorship equation.
What makes the situation even more disturbing is the arrogance with which these decisions are imposed. Party members are neither consulted meaningfully nor allowed to exercise genuine electoral choice. Aspirants are routinely intimidated into withdrawal. By the time the so-called consensus candidate emerges, the process resembles less a democratic selection and more the enthronement of a crown prince by a medieval council of feudal lords.
The political establishment forgets a fundamental democratic truth: the people are the real kingmakers. No collection of retired political merchants, however influential, possesses superior democratic legitimacy over millions of citizens.
The mandate to govern cannot morally originate from smoky hotel meetings, private residences in Abuja or secretive nocturnal consultations among political oligarchs. It must emerge from transparent participation by party members and ultimately by the electorate.
The renowned political philosopher, Alexis de Tocqueville, once warned that “the health of a democratic society may be measured by the quality of functions performed by private citizens.” His warning is deeply relevant to Nigeria today. Once citizens are excluded from meaningful participation, democracy becomes hollow theatre. Elections merely legitimise decisions already taken by hidden actors.
Similarly, Robert Michels, in his famous “Iron Law of Oligarchy”, argued that political organisations inevitably drift towards domination by small elites unless consciously restrained by democratic mechanisms. Nigeria’s present experience tragically validates Michels’ thesis. Political parties established to aggregate popular interests have now become instruments of elite capture.
Consensus, as presently practised within sections of the APC, is therefore not a tool for unity, but an instrument of exclusion. It eliminates competition, suppresses merit and suffocates dissent. It rewards sycophancy above competence and loyalty above vision.
Under such a system, talented younger politicians without godfathers are systematically locked out. Grassroots mobilisation becomes irrelevant because victory depends not on popular appeal but on proximity to power brokers.
This explains why many Nigerians increasingly perceive party primaries as fraudulent rituals. Outcomes are often known before forms are purchased. In several states, outgoing governors merely conspire with Abuja interests to manufacture successors. In some instances, Abuja directly imposes candidates, irrespective of local sentiments. Such practices breed resentment, factional crises and voter apathy.
The long-term implications for the APC may prove catastrophic. A political party cannot perpetually insult the intelligence of its members and expect enduring loyalty. The illusion of stability created by imposed consensus is temporary.
Beneath the surface lies accumulating frustration among marginalised blocs, neglected regions and excluded aspirants. Eventually, these grievances erupt through defections, internal implosions or electoral backlash.
History repeatedly demonstrates that political arrogance contains the seeds of its own destruction. Beyond APC, the broader Nigerian democratic project suffers immensely from this culture of coronation politics. When leaders emerge through imposition rather than competition, accountability weakens. Such leaders feel indebted not to the people, but to the oligarchs who installed them. Governance then becomes an exercise in servicing elite interests rather than pursuing public welfare.
Direct primaries, therefore, remain the most credible pathway towards rescuing internal democracy in Nigeria. Unlike consensus arrangements manipulated by elite cartels, direct primaries empower ordinary party members to determine candidates. They disperse power away from a tiny caucus and return it to the grassroots where democracy properly belongs. While direct primaries may be logistically demanding and financially expensive, the democratic benefits far outweigh the inconveniences.
Most importantly, direct primaries reduce the influence of godfatherism. No single governor or Abuja cabal can easily manipulate millions of party members spread across wards and local governments. Aspirants are compelled to engage citizens directly, market their ideas and build authentic political structures rather than merely cultivating elite endorsements.
Critics argue that direct primaries may generate internal conflicts. Yet, democracy itself is inherently competitive. Contestation is not a defect of democracy; it is its lifeblood. The absence of competition does not produce unity; it merely conceals dictatorship beneath ceremonial language. Nigeria must therefore confront a difficult but necessary question: do political parties exist for the people, or do the people exist for political parties.
If democracy is to survive meaningfully, the era of political coronation must end. The spectacle whereby politically-expired elders arrogate to themselves the authority to allocate governorships like hereditary estates must be resisted firmly. No democracy can mature where citizens are denied the right to shape leadership choices within their own parties.
Consensus, in its current Nigerian mutation, has become a euphemism for oligarchic domination. It has reduced politics to gangsterism supervised by unelected power merchants who neither represent the people, nor fear them.
Unless this culture is dismantled through genuine internal democracy and credible direct primaries, Nigeria risks drifting further towards civilian authoritarianism masked by periodic elections. Democracy cannot flourish where choice is murdered before voting begins.
