Nigeria’s political season has once again exposed the deep contradictions at the heart of the country’s democratic process. As party primaries gather momentum ahead of another election cycle, what should ordinarily be a celebration of internal democracy has instead become a troubling parade of recycled political actors, many of whom remain associated with allegations of corruption, abuse of office, and poor governance records.
Across the major political parties, tickets for the Senate and House of Representatives are increasingly being handed to former governors, ex-ministers, and long-serving political elites whose years in office left little evidence of transformational leadership. Rather than serving as institutions for legislative excellence, the National Assembly is gradually assuming the image of a retirement chamber for former governors and political heavyweights seeking continued relevance, influence, and, in some cases, political protection.
More disturbing is the fact that several of these returning figures have either faced corruption investigations, criminal prosecutions, or prolonged court cases linked to financial misconduct during their time in executive office. Yet, despite the weight of public concern surrounding their records, they continue to emerge victorious in party primaries with little resistance from party structures supposedly founded on accountability and merit.
The Senate, in particular, has increasingly become populated by former state governors who governed for eight years with mixed or deeply controversial legacies. In many states, citizens continue to grapple with dilapidated infrastructure, rising unemployment, failing healthcare systems, and worsening poverty long after these administrations exited office. Ironically, instead of being subjected to public scrutiny over their stewardship, many are rewarded with senatorial tickets by their respective parties.
This troubling pattern raises fundamental questions about the moral direction of Nigeria’s political establishment. How does a political class that presided over economic stagnation and institutional decline present itself once again as the custodian of national progress? More importantly, what message does this send to younger Nigerians who hope for a political culture grounded in competence, integrity, and public service?
The issue goes beyond mere political recycling. Several lawmakers currently occupying seats in both the red and green chambers of the National Assembly have at different times been linked to corruption allegations or financial crimes investigations. Some cases have dragged on for years due to appeals, jurisdictional disputes and endless adjournments within the judicial system. While the law rightly presumes innocence until proven guilty, the ethical burden on public office holders ought to extend beyond legal technicalities.
Public trust in democratic institutions suffers greatly when individuals facing serious allegations continue to dominate the political space without meaningful accountability. The optics become even worse when political parties actively endorse such candidates during primaries, often sidelining younger, reform-minded aspirants with cleaner public records.
Equally concerning is the growing trend of political succession by proxy. In states where some outgoing governors are unable to secure preferred positions for themselves, efforts are increasingly directed towards installing sons, daughters, relatives, and loyal associates into elective offices. What emerges is not democracy in its true sense, but the gradual entrenchment of political dynasties sustained by patronage and control of party machinery.
Nigeria has also witnessed situations where former ministers and senior officials, who left office under the cloud of scandals and public controversy, have resurfaced as influential contenders in fresh electoral contests. In mature democracies, resignation over ethical breaches often signals the end of a political career or, at the very least, a period of sober reflection. In Nigeria, however, it frequently appears to be a temporary setback before political rehabilitation.
The tragedy of the current primaries lies not merely in who is contesting, but in the seeming normalisation of mediocrity and ethical compromise within the political system. Parties that should function as gatekeepers of democratic standards now appear more interested in electability, financial influence, and entrenched patronage networks than character or performance.
This reality explains why public enthusiasm towards elections continues to decline, particularly among young Nigerians. Many citizens increasingly view the political process as an elite arrangement where the same actors rotate power among themselves, irrespective of past failures or unresolved controversies.
Yet democracy cannot thrive where accountability is absent and public office is treated as an entitlement rather than a responsibility. Political parties must begin to understand that credibility matters. The future of governance in Nigeria depends not simply on conducting elections, but on presenting candidates whose records inspire confidence rather than suspicion.
As the primaries continue, Nigerians are once again confronted with a difficult question: can a nation genuinely progress when those entrusted with shaping its future are often the very individuals whose past remains deeply contested?
Ezenwa Opara- a public relations and media strategist writing from Lagos, Nigeria
