“Nigerian youths should be at the forefront of issue-based mobilisation. They should engineer civic advocacy, demand accountable leadership, and participate actively in the democratic process.”
“The youth is the hope of our future.” — José Rizal
Instead of using their verve, vigour, and numerical strength to influence the electoral process as participants and architects of politics, Nigerian youths are, regrettably, sometimes persuaded to deploy their energy in deplorable ways.
Rather than using their strength to mobilise voters, their technological savvy to shape public discourse, and their presence to protect the sanctity of the ballot, some youths have become willing cannon fodder, recruited to intimidate, harass and foment trouble during elections. To reset Nigeria, indeed, starts from the youth age cohort.
Even more troubling is the misuse of their digital sophistication. The same young people who could employ technology to promote civic enlightenment and electoral transparency sometimes use it to manipulate narratives, manufacture falsehoods, and distort public opinion. They have turned themselves into what Professor Wole Soyinka has humorously described as “e-vermins” online—digital agents of mischief, rather than digital ambassadors of democracy.
Role of the Nigerian youths in national reset
Nigeria’s problems, like a large river, naturally distribute themselves into numerous smaller tributaries. They are multidimensional, deeply rooted, and spread across virtually every terrain of national life. It must, therefore, be pertinently emphasised that our national predicament cannot be overpowered or bulldozed by one simplistic theory or a single prescription.
There comes a time when the bedrock and foundation of errors and discrepancies become so deeply domiciled and stabilised that, if they are not confronted appropriately, they eventually grow stronger than the solutions designed to confront them.
This is part of the Nigerian dilemma: problems that ought to have been treated as temporary ailments have, over time, become institutionalised conditions.
Historians have painstakingly assembled the scattered pieces and loopholes in Nigeria’s national history. Yet, history alone has not been sufficient to put the country firmly on the path of renewal.
Economists have offered theories for stimulating growth, but the persistent realities of economic hardship continue to test those prescriptions.
Philosophers have interrogated our national condition and projected possible futures, while political scientists and social commentators have produced competing explanations of our democratic shortcomings.
The commercial and productive sectors, too, have been constrained by policy inconsistencies, institutional weaknesses, and an environment that frequently frustrates enterprise.
In short, virtually every intellectual and professional discipline has attempted to diagnose the Nigeria’s condition. Yet the national patient remains in need of something more profound: a generational transformation in values, citizenship, and political responsibility.
This is where the Nigerian youth occupies a strategic position.
What young people cannot run away from is the simple fact that they will live longest with the consequences of today’s political decisions. They, therefore, have, not only a legitimate right, but also a profound responsibility to shape policies, leadership choices, and the direction of society.
Their numerical strength gives them enormous political power. That power should ordinarily translate into informed voting, constructive mobilisation, civic participation, and democratic accountability—not political thuggery, electoral violence, or blind loyalty to political paymasters.
Nigerian youths should be at the forefront of issue-based mobilisation. They should engineer civic advocacy, demand accountable leadership, and participate actively in the democratic process. Their technological skills should make them the natural guardians of credible information.
The social media warrior of today should be the fact-checker, information filter, and civic educator of tomorrow. Young people should challenge disinformation, expose hate speech, interrogate unverified claims, and fact-check political assertions and draw attention to electoral irregularities. Their digital influence should be deployed for democratic enlightenment, rather than political manipulation.
They must also learn to demand competence rather than patronage. Democracy should not be reduced to the temporary gratification of monetary inducements, gifts, or political handouts that ultimately become clogs in the wheels of credible elections.
A young person should never be celebrated for taking a political bullet for someone who will later sit at the negotiating table without him.
Unfortunately, the proliferation of arms and light weapons around electoral periods remains a grave concern. The critical question is: Who will ultimately carry and use these weapons?
More often than not, it is the young people.
Those who recruit youths into political violence rarely send their own children into the danger zone. Their children are usually somewhere safe while somebody else’s son or daughter is being encouraged to risk life and limb for a political ambition.
This is the great deception of political violence.
Political mobilisation can—and should—be constructive. Instead of mobilising youths to attack opponents, political movements can mobilise them for voter education, community outreach, policy conversations, environmental initiatives, neighbourhood development, and peaceful electoral participation.
Today’s political foot soldiers are tomorrow’s leaders.
If young people are trained to believe that politics is about thuggery, money, intimidation, and unquestioning obedience, they may reproduce the same culture when they eventually occupy positions of authority. But if they are trained in integrity, debate, service, civic responsibility, and accountability, they can become the architects of a healthier political culture.
Ultimately, the greatest tragedy is not that youths participate in politics; it is that they, sometimes, participate without fully understanding the value of their own lives and the enormous power of their political agency.
A Nigerian youth should be able to say:
“I will campaign for my candidate, but I will not kill for him.
I will defend my political conviction, but I will not destroy another citizen.
I will mobilise voters, not mobs.
I will defend the ballot, not violate it.
I will be a voice for change, not a weapon in somebody else’s hands.”
There is, however, another side of the generational question that must not be ignored. The responsibility for youth political degeneration does not rest entirely on the youths themselves. Leadership also has a duty to create the space for generational transition.
A sure path towards building a strong future for the youth is for leaders to know when to hand over the baton—especially when the ovation is still loud.
Remaining perpetually in positions of influence at the expense of younger generations leaves a sour taste in the mouth of democracy. Leadership is not an inheritance to be permanently possessed; it is a trust that must eventually be transferred.
Across Africa, history has supplied troubling examples of leaders who became intoxicated by power, clung desperately to office, and subordinated institutional development to personal political survival.
The result has often been the weakening of democratic institutions, suppression of dissent, economic stagnation, and the erosion of public confidence.
Nigeria must consciously avoid this tragic paradigm.
When leaders refuse to relinquish power, when political elders continue to wage a tug-of-war with younger generations over political space, when accumulated wealth is deployed to purchase the allegiance of youths, and when political influence is treated as a permanent entitlement rather than a temporary responsibility, democracy suffers.
The youth should not be recruited merely to protect the privileges of the old. They should be prepared to inherit, improve, and eventually transform the political system.
The baton must, therefore, be passed—not merely ceremonially, but meaningfully.
The older generation has a responsibility to mentor rather than manipulate. The younger generation has an equally important responsibility to learn rather than merely revolt; to participate rather than destroy; to challenge rather than vandalise; and to seek power through democratic legitimacy rather than violence.
The future of Nigerian democracy will depend, to a considerable extent, on which of these two paths the youth chooses.
The choice is stark: to become instruments of political exploitation or architects of democratic renewal.
Nigerian youths have the numbers, the energy, the creativity, and the technological capacity to redefine the political landscape. What they need is the consciousness to understand that their greatest political power is not in the fist, the weapon or the abusive social-media post, but in the ballot, the truth, the organised civic voice and the courage to demand accountable leadership.
The youth should, therefore, become the engine of democratic renewal—not the cannon fodder of anybody’s political ambition.
