THE BANE OF POLITICAL GODFATHERISM

 K.B. ATI-JOHN argues that godfatherism in Nigeria is feudalism in disguise 

Political godfatherism is not a peripheral problem in Nigeria; it is a central, systemic threat to the future of our democracy. It is a parasitic dynamic that chokes leadership, inhibits reform, and turns elections into coronations orchestrated by private power brokers. But this phenomenon is not merely about political influence, it is the modern reenactment of an ancient structure of control. Political godfatherism in Nigeria is best understood as feudalism in civilian disguise.

To understand this, we must recall the essence of feudalism. In medieval Europe, feudalism was a social order rooted in hierarchy, control, and subservience. Monarchs and nobles distributed land and privilege to loyal vassals in exchange for service and unquestioning allegiance. Power flowed down, loyalty flowed up, and the vast majority, peasants and serfs, were locked into a cycle of silence and obedience. Governance was not a shared responsibility; it was a favor dispensed at the will of a superior. In today’s Nigeria, the architecture of power in many states and parties resembles this structure all too well.

Political godfathers act as modern lords. They finance campaigns, select candidates, and dictate terms often before a single vote is cast. Their chosen candidates, once in power, become obligated not to the electorate but to their political benefactors. Critical appointments, state budgets, contracts, and even security decisions are filtered through the lens of loyalty. What masquerades as representative democracy is, in reality, a command chain of personal loyalty. The people may vote, but the godfathers rule.

This arrangement creates an ecosystem where merit is suffocated, innovation is punished, and accountability is redefined as loyalty to a single individual or clique. Leaders cannot lead; they obey. Legislators cannot legislate; they appease. Governors cannot govern; they consult. The result is a system of entrenched mediocrity, where vision is a liability and independence is interpreted as betrayal.

But the danger is even greater than it appears. When godfatherism becomes normalized, it metastasizes into a full blown cultural code, a shadow constitution that rivals the actual democratic framework. It fosters a political culture in which compromise is seen as weakness, ambition as disloyalty, and competence as a threat. Instead of building institutions, we build networks of dependence. Instead of grooming leaders, we breed servants. And instead of a democracy, we have a monarchy with rotating faces.

This is not simply a Nigerian affliction; it is a deeper crisis of postcolonial African politics. Across the continent, many states have inherited not just the borders of colonial rule, but its internal structure, a pyramid of unaccountable power. What should have been an opportunity for democratic reinvention has become a theatre of elite capture, where a few powerful actors dominate the stage while the people remain spectators.

In theory, African democracies have elections, legislatures, and independent judiciaries. In practice, those institutions are often undercut by informal systems of patronage. Political godfatherism is just one expression of that deeper pathology. It undermines the rule of law by turning legal decisions into political favors. It weakens the economy by replacing productive investment with rent-seeking behavior. It silences youth and talent by turning ambition into a punishable offense.

And yet, amidst this bleak landscape, there are examples that show another way is possible. Consider the political journey of Barack Obama. His rise to the presidency of the United States offers a stark and instructive contrast. Obama did not rise in isolation; like all leaders, he was supported. But he was never owned.

In 2004, Senator John Kerry invited Obama to deliver the keynote address at the Democratic National Convention, a bold move that launched Obama into the national spotlight. In 2008, Senator Ted Kennedy, the lion of the Senate and a Democratic kingmaker, endorsed Obama over Hillary Clinton. It was a seismic political moment, one that required courage, vision, and belief in the potential of a young, relatively untested leader.

But what makes the Obama story instructive is not the support he received; it is the kind of support. Kerry and Kennedy empowered Obama, but they never dictated to him. They offered him a platform, not a leash. They gave him access, not orders. And when Obama ultimately rose to the presidency, he governed with independence, guided by his convictions and accountable to the American people not to the hands that had once lifted him.

That is how healthy democracies function. Support is given without subjugation. Alliances are formed without control. Mentorship uplifts without manipulation. And power is exercised not as a personal gift, but as a public trust. In that environment, leaders emerge and not as vassals, but as visionaries.

Imagine if such a political culture existed in Nigeria. Imagine a young, capable governor who owes his emergence not to a godfather, but to the will of the people. Imagine if party primaries were not predetermined ceremonies but competitive, transparent processes that reward ideas, integrity, and public service. Imagine a political system where leaders rise by merit, serve with courage, and govern without chains.

It is not a fantasy. It is a possibility. But to achieve it, we must dismantle the political feudalism that sustains godfatherism. This is not just a matter of reform; it is a matter of transformation. It begins with reimagining our political culture.

First, we must restore internal party democracy. Political parties in Nigeria are often the breeding grounds of godfatherism because they operate like private clubs instead of public institutions. Candidate selection must be open, competitive, and transparent. The era of “anointed candidates” must end.

Second, we must reform campaign financing. The stranglehold of money on Nigerian politics is both a symptom and a cause of godfatherism. When candidates are financially dependent on a few powerful sponsors, they inevitably trade their independence for survival. A transparent, enforceable framework for campaign financing and public disclosure must be implemented, and violators must face real consequences.

Third, we must strengthen electoral integrity. Elections should be sacred, not staged. The power of the vote must be protected from manipulation, vote-buying, and intimidation. An independent and uncompromising electoral commission, supported by vigilant civil society actors, is essential to restoring faith in democracy.

Fourth, we must invest in civic education. Many citizens still see politics as the domain of elites, not as a platform for service and change. We must educate a new generation of Nigerians, especially young people, to believe in their right to choose, to question, to participate, and to lead.

And finally, we must celebrate and protect political independence. Leaders who break free from the grip of godfathers must be applauded, not alienated. We need to build a national culture that values courage over compliance, conviction over convenience, and service over subservience.

It is important to emphasize that not all forms of political support are toxic. Mentorship is valuable. Guidance is necessary. Strategic alliances are inevitable. But the line is crossed when support turns into ownership, when loyalty replaces legitimacy, and when personal empire-building overrides national interest.

There is a profound difference between a mentor and a master. A mentor develops; a master dictates. A mentor points the way; a master controls the journey. Nigeria must choose the path of mentorship—not monarchy.

Godfatherism is not a quirky feature of Nigerian politics. It is a systemic disease with national consequences. It produces leaders who cannot lead, institutions that cannot function, and a people who are asked to cheer while others choose on their behalf. It is the antithesis of democracy and the enemy of progress.

Until we dismantle the machinery of political feudalism, we will continue calling elections democratic while practicing monarchy by proxy. Nigeria deserves better. Africa deserves better. Our democracy must mature beyond thrones and anointing oils.

Let us choose leaders who rise by the people, for the people, and with the people, not through private pacts signed in shadows. Let us elect those who owe their mandate to no one but the nation and who serve without chains.

 Admiral Ati-John is a retired naval officer