BETWEEN BALLOTS AND BACKROOMS

The credibility of 2027 election will not be determined on election day alone, but within party structures, during primaries, and behind closed doors, contends SAMUEL AKPOBOME OROVWUJE

“Where political parties are weak, democracy is hollow,” Larry Diamond warned in his work on democratic consolidation. Decades later, Nigerian human rights advocate Chidi Odinkalu echoed the concern more bluntly: “In Nigeria, the real election is often decided before the voters ever see a ballot.”

Between these two insights lies Nigeria’s present reality.

As the country edges toward the 2027 elections, the decisive struggle is no longer between political parties but within them. Across Lagos, Ogun, Oyo, and Abia States, the contest is unfolding between direct primaries, as provided under the Electoral Act 2022 as amended, and consensus candidacy, increasingly shaped by elite selfish negotiation rather than genuine agreement.

Section 84 of the Electoral Act permits consensus only where it is voluntary. In practice, that condition has become elastic. What is presented as unity is often managed compliance; what is described as agreement is frequently pre-arranged. The law provides options, but political actors have learned to manipulate outcomes.

Within the All Progressives Congress (APC), particularly in Lagos State, candidate emergence is shaped by elite approval. “Alignment” and “clearance” have become the quiet language of control. Aspirants who insist on open primaries are often edged out long before any vote is cast. In Ogun State, factional struggles have produced parallel primaries, exposing deeper conflicts over who controls party structures. In Oyo State, both the APC and the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) alternate between direct primaries and consensus arrangements depending on political advantage rather than democratic principle. In Abia State, disputes over zoning, legitimacy, and inclusion continue to destabilise party cohesion.

These patterns are neither accidental nor new. Richard Joseph (1987), in Democracy and Prebendal Politics in Nigeria, described a system in which public office is treated as a resource to be distributed among competing elites. Attahiru Jega (2015) later warned that weak party institutionalisation allows elite capture to thrive, while Okechukwu Ibeanu (2007) argued that Nigerian elections are often shaped more by intra-elite bargaining than by voter choice.

At the centre of this system is godfatherism. Scholars such as Adeoye Akinsanya, Readings in Nigerian Government and Politics (2005) and Eghosa Osaghae, Work Crippled Giant (1998) have shown how political patrons influence candidate selection through control of finance, party machinery, and access. In such a system, primaries risk becoming ceremonial formal processes that legitimise decisions already taken elsewhere.

The implications extend beyond internal party dysfunction. When dominant parties begin to operate through similar mechanisms—restricting competition, centralising decisions, and recycling elite networks—the distinction between them narrows. As Maurice Duverger, Political Parties: Their Organization and Activity in the Modern State (1954) argued, democracy depends not merely on the number of parties but on the quality of competition between them. Where competition is managed, pluralism weakens. This is how a de facto one-party reality can emerge not through law, but through convergence in political practice.

Yet the story is not entirely one of decline.

The African Democratic Congress (ADC) and other smaller parties present a more complex and potentially transformative dynamic. They have positioned themselves as reform-oriented platforms, advocating internal democracy, transparency, and grassroots participation. In states like Oyo and Abia, the ADC has publicly aligned itself with direct primaries, seeking to distinguish itself from the dominant parties.

More importantly, an emerging—though still inchoate coalition is forming around these smaller platforms. This includes political upstarts, disaffected actors from major parties, and segments of civil society increasingly committed to electoral credibility. Civil society organisations, advocacy groups, and reform networks are becoming more vocal, insisting that credible elections must begin with credible primaries.

However, this alternative remains fragile.

Smaller parties face structural constraints: limited funding, weaker organisational capacity, and the constant risk of fragmentation. As Kura (2011) and Omotola (2010) have demonstrated, such conditions often compel even reform-minded parties to resort to negotiated candidacies to remain viable. In this context, consensus is sometimes less about imposition and more about survival.

This creates a defining tension. The ADC and similar parties must decide whether to institutionalise transparent, competitive primaries or gradually replicate the same opaque arrangements they criticise. Their credibility ahead of 2027 depends on that choice.

At the same time, public trust in the electoral process continues to decline. Repeated disputes over primaries, candidate substitutions, and court-imposed outcomes have deepened voter scepticism. For many Nigerians, elections increasingly appear as formal endorsements of decisions already taken within party structures. If this perception persists, voter apathy may deepen, and the legitimacy of electoral outcomes may weaken further.

The Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC), under the leadership of Joash Amupitan, remains central but constrained. The Commission monitors primaries and enforces procedural compliance, but it does not conduct party primaries. In large-scale direct primaries, effective oversight is logistically challenging. In consensus arrangements, verifying genuine voluntariness is inherently difficult. INEC can ensure that procedures are followed, but it cannot guarantee that they are meaningful.

The judiciary has also played a corrective role. In Amaechi v. INEC (2007) and Lado v. CPC (2011), the Supreme Court affirmed that political parties must comply strictly with their constitutions and the law. Yet judicial intervention is reactive. It addresses violations after they occur; it does not build a culture of internal democracy.

As 2027 approaches, the signs are already visible. Across parties, negotiations are intensifying. Alliances are forming. Aspirations are being adjusted, merged, or quietly abandoned. Candidate selection is increasingly shaped in private spaces, far removed from public scrutiny. The parties are, in effect, rounding up and closing ranks ahead of a contest that may be substantially determined before it formally begins.

Nigeria stands at a critical juncture.

The All Progressives Congress (APC) and the PDP must decide whether to deepen internal democracy or continue to manage outcomes. The ADC and other emerging parties must choose whether to disrupt the system or be absorbed into it. Civil society must sustain pressure for transparency, while citizens must decide whether to disengage or demand accountability.

Nigeria does not risk becoming a one-party state by decree. It risks becoming one through practice and through convergence, control, and the quiet erosion of competition.

The credibility of 2027 will not be determined on Election Day alone. It will depend on what happens long before the ballots are cast—within party structures, during primaries, and in the choices political actors make behind closed doors.

The question, ultimately, is simple but profound: Will Nigeria’s leaders emerge from the will of the people—or from agreements reached in backrooms?

The answer is already taking shape.

Orovwuje is public Affairs Analyst and founder, Humanitarian Care Displaced Persons, Lagos. Orovwuje50@gmail.com