By Martins Oloja
As I was saying, it is more important at this time to continue to engage our leaders at all levels to be more resourceful and constructive in managing and navigating the landmines in politics of this very complex federation. As I had hinted on two previous occasions, the reason for this caveat is not far fetched: I would like our leaders to be aware that it is possible to win the 2027 elections anyhow and thereafter lose this beautiful country. That is the crux of the matter and the main reason our leaders should continue to avoid the danger of assumptions that may trigger that unfortunate outcome that president Good luck Jonathan gracefully avoided in 2015 when he decided to concede defeat after losing election and winning the country. His famous words are still there on a marble: ‘Nobody’s political ambition is worth the blood of any Nigerian…’
Let’s continue to amplify that voice of reason, wisdom and responsibility to our leaders that they should not aim at winning elections and losing the country. This is therefore a voice of reason that our leaders body language of treating 2027 as a mere formality can threaten Nigeria’s democracy, peace and stability. And here is why: Democracy dies less from coups and more from complacency. The most dangerous assumption a leader can make is that the next election is a formality. The second is that the courts will always align with the executive as it happened in 1983 with Twelve Two Thirds controversy that Supreme Court then resolved in favour of the ruling party, NPN. That also happened in the United States when the Supreme Court effectively stopped vote counting in Florida – including the contested ballots in Miami-Dade County on December 9, 2000. The highest court then granted the emergency petition from the George Bush Camp to halt the hand recounts. The development resulted in the final landmark ruling in Bush Vs Gore on December 12, 2000.
This musing examines why the mindset that “2027 is already won” and “the judiciary is in the president’s pocket” is dangerous for Nigeria, and for the office of the president itself. So it is for the long-term stability of the federation. It is not an indictment of any individual. It is a warning about a pattern that has broken democracies across Africa and beyond. That is why perception index already developing by the curious building of permanent houses for Justices of various cadres, members of the Body of Benchers and Law School Students in Abuja should have been better managed. Why is a Minister in charge of the Federal Capital Territory noisily advertising the real estates being built for serving Justices, members of Body of Benchers and Law Students as personal gifts? Can’t this careless gesture be interpreted as ‘Project-2027 Tinubu Spirit’, as it was in those days for Justice Mohammed Bello’s Supreme Court when Mercedes Benz Car Gifts were reproachfully tagged “IBB Spirit”. The troubling resultant litigation, (defamation) handled by the then irrepressible lawyer, Gani Fawehinmi who stood for “The News” magazine exposed a lot about the then CJN, Bello’s roots. That is what libel case can do: destroy.
The logic that incumbency + party structure + control of federal resources = inevitable victory is dangerous. The calculation is simple math: control the security budget, control state governors in your party, control media narratives, as the opposition appears fragmented.is presumptuous.
Why it is so dangerous: That assumption blinds the presidency to real volatility. Nigeria’s electorate has become less predictable. 2015 removed an incumbent. 2023 produced the lowest voter turnout in 24 years at 27% but also showed that ethnic-regional blocs can swing against expectations, and that third-force candidates can disrupt old calculations. What is more, the prevailing economic pain, fuel prices, inflation, and insecurity can create “pocketbook voting” that incumbency cannot buy off. Assuming 2027 is automatic means policies stop being tested against public reaction until it is too late.
The presumption also kills intra-party discipline that has been noticed all over the place. When the top seat is treated as closed, party primaries become the real election. That shifts competition inward and rewards loyalty over competence. Talented but independent voices leave elsewhere. The party becomes an echo chamber. By 2027, the party machinery will be strong on paper but brittle in ideas and consensus that should build it. In the same vein, that assumption that we will win, after all signals to voters that participation is optional.
In all democracies, elections require legitimacy, not just a winner. Turnout in 2023 fell partly because many Nigerians believed “it won’t change anything.” A president who assumes victory publicly reinforces that belief. Lower turnout does not help the incumbent long-term. It weakens the mandate, emboldens non-state actors, and makes post-election governance harder.
What is more strategic, history does not support the assumption of this type.
No Nigerian president since 1999 has coasted to re-election without a real contest. Obasanjo 2003, Yar’Adua 2007, Jonathan 2011, Buhari 2019 — each faced serious opposition, litigation, and regional resistance. 2027 will have 20+ parties, independent candidates post-Electoral Act 2022, and a youth population where 60% are under 25. Demographics are not a formality, after all.
Assumption #2: “The judiciary at this time isn’t going to be our headache”.
The logic: Appointments to the Supreme Court, Court of Appeal, and Federal High Court are made by the president on NJC’s advice. Control over resources and post-service appointments create alignment. Therefore, election petitions, constitutional cases, and anti-corruption matters will “go the right way” as perceived at the moment is a dangerous assumption and here is why too: That logic confuses appointment power with control of decisions at critical moments of a nation. Appointing judges is not the same as directing judgments when the nation is on the cusp of a change or revolution being triggered by existential threats. Nigeria’s judges are still governed by the Constitution, the Evidence Act, and their own professional survival, as recent judgments seem to be suggesting. Once a judge takes the oath, institutional pride and personal reputation kick in. The 2007 and 2019 election petition seasons showed that Nigerian courts can and do rule against the executive, even at the highest level. Assuming control forces the judiciary into a position where any ruling for the executive looks compromised, even when it is legally sound. The judges are citizens and can feel what public interest means at this critical time when even some senior members of the Temple of Justice have joined critics who are concerned about their involvement in political judgments that have negatively affected internal democracy.
Here is the thing, perceived fusion of powers too destroys checks and balances. Montesquieu’s separation of powers is not Western decoration. It is engineering. The legislature makes law, the executive executes, the judiciary previously regarded as the last hope of the common man, interprets. When the public believes the judiciary has merged with the executive, two things happen: Losing parties stop litigating and resort to street protest, and the executive stops drafting sound legislation because it assumes the courts will “fix it.” Both erode the rule of law. And when citizens begin to see only the rule of man instead of the rule of law, there is loss of confidence in leadership.
Besides, that perception tends to internationalises domestic disputes and here are the consequences: Investors, rating agencies, and foreign governments watch judicial independence as a proxy for political risk. If Nigeria is perceived as having a captured judiciary, the cost of borrowing rises, FDI falls, and election credibility is questioned abroad. That hurts the president’s own economic agenda more than any opposition lawsuit. And that puts the president’s legacy at risk.
Every president leaves office. A judiciary that is seen as “in the pocket” during tenure will rush to reassert independence afterward. Cases that were delayed will be accelerated. Rulings that were narrow will be expanded. The president who assumed control will leave office with no institutional shield.
The dangerous symptom: Fusion is not a constitutional amendment. It is a culture. Signs include: legislative rubber-stamping; bills passed with minimal debate. Oversight hearings are cancelled. Budget defence becomes ritual as we are witnessing in Nigeria. There will also be judicial delays on politically sensitive cases. And even petitions that should take 180 days under the Electoral Act stretch to the edge. Delays look strategic even if they are not.
In this situation, we will see security agencies acting like a party wing: Police and DSS statements start mirroring party talking points. Here is the deadliest, in this regard: INEC, election management agency, is perceived as aligned.
Even when INEC acts independently, public trust collapses if the presidency assumes the outcome is fixed. Once fusion perception sets in, reversing it requires crisis management. Nigeria saw this in 1993 and again post-2015. Rebuilding trust takes years.
How a president can avoid the danger of assumptions Institutionalise doubt: Create a “red team” in the presidency whose job is to argue why 2027 could be lost. Force policy and campaign teams to answer them monthly.
Respect separation of power publicly: Meet the CJN regularly but never discuss pending cases. Fund the judiciary adequately but through the budget, not discretionary gifts as it is happening though a careless and garrulous minister. The judiciary as an independent arm can build real estates for judicial officers without noise as it had happened before 2023.
Let the parties compete: Hold real and credible primaries. A president who fears internal competition will fear general elections.
Protect INEC and security agencies’ independence: Give them budget and operational autonomy. A strong INEC is better for an incumbent than a weak one, because it makes victory credible.
For citizens and media:
Reject fatalism: “My vote won’t count” is the self-fulfilling prophecy that makes the dangerous assumption true.
Demand process, not outcome: Ask not “who will win 2027” but “are the rules fair for 2027?”
The paradox of power
Team Tinubu should note that the president who assumes 2027 is a formality is the president most likely to lose it. Power in a democracy is borrowed, not owned. The moment you act like it is permanent, citizens start planning for the day it is not. Conversely, the president who treats 2027 as a real contest governs better today. He listens more, delivers more, and keeps institutions strong. If he wins, his mandate is unassailable. If he loses, Nigeria survives the transition and his legacy is intact. Let me say this before next week’s intervention: Assumptions are more expensive than opposition
Opposition parties can be managed, negotiated with, or defeated. Assumptions cannot. They live inside the president’s circle and distort every decision. Nigeria cannot afford a presidency that believes elections are theatre and courts are instruments. We tried that logic in the First Republic. We tried a softer version under military-guided politics. Each time, the bill came due in blood, debt, or lost decades. 2027 should not be regarded as a formality. It is a test. The judiciary is not a pocket. It is a mirror. If the president respects both, Nigeria’s democracy gets stronger. If he assumes both, he will learn — too late — that institutions only look weak until the day you need them.
The danger of assumptions is not that they are wrong. It is that by the time you discover they are wrong, you no longer have the institutions to correct course.
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