Before we start fantasizing about 2027, it is important to pay attention to the present. If you have not read the final part of my article “Election or Selection,” published in November 2024, now is the time. It reflects on the present security and political turmoil sweeping through our nation, and asks the hard questions we often avoid.
There is so much discontent in our land and it is overwhelming and rightly so. The political class and the bureaucrats have failed to provide us with visionary leadership. Instead of progress, we are watching our country slide, fast and recklessly, onto the fast lane to anarchy. Despite a devastating civil war, the Igbos still desire their Biafra because the very issues and grievances they fought a war for still exist to this day, nothing has truly changed. In the North-East, Boko Haram has appropriated a large swath of land and area of influence uncontested, undeterred. The Middle Belt is hotly contested by marauding Fulanis and the natives, while Southern Kaduna is in the throes of a religious genocide. Meanwhile, hoodlums now find joy in a cruel new game: abducting citizens for ransom at will. They act boldly, without fear, as if law and order no longer exist. So, I ask: Are we not yet in a failed state?
Our economy is in tatters. The restive Ijaws have decimated our oil and gas production, which used to be the backbone of our national income. Industries that were productive ten years ago have closed shop and relocated elsewhere. Our educational institutions are shadows of their past and it’s painfully obvious why.
The health industry is similarly positioned, leaving citizens with few options but prayer or a miracle. In truth, the entire social services in the country are not really worth the offices they occupy. So again, I ask: Are we not there yet? Have we not crossed the line into a failed state?
As we reflect on our journey into nationhood, one truth becomes increasingly clear: the form of democracy currently practiced in Nigeria is not working. In fact, it may not be the best system for our unique context. Around the world, there are examples of nations that have achieved stability and prosperity not through popular elections, but through systems of selection, carefully curated processes that prioritize merit, experience, and integrity over political gamesmanship. The United Kingdom, for example, combines democratic elections with a monarchy and an appointed House of Lords. While their parliament is elected, the head of state remains the monarch, and a significant portion of legislative oversight lies with individuals appointed not elected by the crown. These institutions serve as guardians of the Kingdom, offering stability and continuity beyond the cycles of electoral politics.
In such countries, the selection process is not a free-for-all contest. It is a measured, intentional process that places the burden of choice in the hands of those guided by wisdom, experience, and the nation’s best interest not personal ambition. And the outcomes are telling: these nations have largely avoided the corruption, division, and violence that plague many electoral democracies.
In Nigeria, elections have become little more than sham exercises, the process lacks integrity. Confidence in democratic systems has eroded to the point where many no longer believe in the promise of democracy at all. The judiciary, which should stand as the guardian of democratic values, has too often been complicit turning a blind eye to electoral fraud and legitimizing questionable outcomes.
We have spent enormous time, money, and resources trying to replicate British- American models of governance without truly understanding or adapting them. All that effort has yielded is chaos, instability, and poverty. Wondering if we can salvage something out of this ruin, recognizing that we have no other country but this, we must turn our backs to these failed electoral processes.
In my own search for answers, I am drawn to the systems of governance that existed in our land before colonialism. These systems, though far from perfect, were deeply rooted in our traditions and values. These were systems based on selection, not election where leaders were chosen by the wise, the experienced, and the respected not by popularity, money, or manipulation. These wise selectors, known as the Kingmakers were not appointed by political parties or influenced by wealth. They emerged through a natural hierarchy built on age, integrity, experience, and wisdom. The individuals they selected were not imposed upon the people, but rather embraced as rightful representatives of their communities. They were chosen to uphold the values of the land, to protect the people, and to rule with fairness and justice. Their loyalty lay not with foreign donors or political godfathers, but with the communities they served.
Perhaps it is time to revisit these systems not as a rejection of democracy, but as an evolution of it. We must research the systems used to select the paramount leaders, the ones who were able to inspire unity, command respect, and govern effectively. There is wisdom in our history that can guide us through our present darkness.
What we need is not another constitutional conference or political jamboree, but a national dialogue for the soul of this country; a space where we can explore how to blend the best of our past with the demands of our future. This new system would not abandon the people’s voice, but refine how that voice is expressed and honored. It would shift us away from corrupt and flawed elections and toward a model where leaders are deliberately selected for their capacity to lead not their ability to rig votes or buy influence. It would save us from the billions spent on broken elections and redirect those resources to healthcare, education, and infrastructure.
This is not a call to end democracy, but to redefine it in a way that is true to who we are. We need a hybrid system; one where selection and representation work hand- in-hand, where leadership is earned through character and service, not simply through political power plays. In such a system, the people would trust their leaders more deeply, knowing that they were chosen through careful deliberation, not manipulation. And those doing the choosing the modern-day kingmakers must themselves be individuals of unquestionable integrity, shielded from the corrupting forces of money and partisanship. When governance is done right, people live well. They earn a fair wage, provide for their families, and find dignity in their daily lives. When people thrive, they have no need to steal or fight, they find peace in justice and order.
This is the evolution we must strive for: a system of leadership that reflects who we truly are, that honors our heritage while boldly facing our present, and that builds a Nigeria where the people’s will is sacred and leadership is a calling, not a hustle.
This is the future we must build; a Nigeria led not by those who can game the system, but by those who are worthy of trust, grounded in truth, and guided by the wisdom of our ancestors. It is a future that respects our history, acknowledges our present struggles, and holds the promise of a brighter tomorrow.