Olu Allen
There is a dangerous assumption taking root in the Nigerian political psyche: that the ballot box is merely a suggestion box, and the real decision rests with the gavel.
The refrain is increasingly common: why bother with the queues of 2027 when a panel of justices will ultimately determine who occupies Aso Rock?
This sentiment is not born of ignorance. It is the logical endpoint of a political class that has mastered the art of litigation as a succession strategy.
When the courtroom becomes a de facto extension of the campaign ground, we must question whether we are still operating a democracy or drifting towards a system where judicial intervention increasingly shapes the political landscape before and after elections.
The judiciary is not the enemy of democracy; it is its necessary guardian. Electoral litigation is a constitutional safety valve.
The problem, however, lies in the growing weaponization of that valve. When pre-election and post-election disputes become so protracted that they overshadow the electoral act itself, the citizenry is left with a clear, corrosive message: your vote is a variable, but the judge’s pen is the constant.
Recent political disputes have also revived difficult questions about who should have standing to challenge electoral and party processes.
Where individuals or entities that were not direct participants in an electoral contest are able to reopen issues many citizens consider settled, the legal reasoning may well be sound, but the political consequence is unmistakable: public confidence in the finality of democratic outcomes is weakened.
The law may permit such interventions, yet democracy ultimately depends not only on legal correctness but also on public confidence that the ballot remains the primary expression of the people’s sovereign will.
The 2023 electoral cycle exposed this pathology. We witnessed a marathon of litigations that stretched beyond the patience of even the most ardent democrats.
By the time the gavel finally fell, much of the political energy that drove millions to the polls had dissipated into fatigue.
Much of the extraordinary momentum surrounding the Labour Party became closely associated with Peter Obi’s candidacy.
Whether that momentum can mature into a durable political movement rooted in institutions rather than personalities remains one of the defining political questions ahead of 2027.
This is the tragedy of our political evolution: we rally around faces, not manifestos; and when the face fades from the frontline, the momentum often fades with it.
This directly threatens participation in 2027. If current trends continue, Nigeria could witness one of its lowest voter turnouts since the return to democratic rule.
The acronyms—ADC, NDC and the myriad other political alignments, are merely rearranging deck chairs on a sinking ship of public trust.
The electorate is not confused by the names; they are fatigued by the process.
Apathy in 2027 will not necessarily be a rejection of any particular administration; it may instead become a silent indictment of a system that many Nigerians increasingly perceive as having divorced the vote from the outcome.
The solution, however, cannot be a surrender to the courts. The answer is not to bypass the ballot, as some cynics suggest, but to reform the legal framework that too often allows litigation to dominate the electoral process.
We must push for a strict judicial timeline that ensures all pre-election matters are concluded before the first ballot is cast.
The Electoral Act should also be reviewed to provide clearer parameters for locus standi in pre-election disputes while preserving access to justice for parties whose legal rights are directly affected. The courtroom must not become the venue for a rerun of party primaries.
Ultimately, the legitimacy of a government is not derived solely from the compliance of its courts, but from the consent of the governed.
If Nigerians lose faith that their vote determines their leadership, no judicial pronouncement, however legally sound, can fill that legitimacy deficit.
As we approach 2027, the burden lies not on the judges to save democracy, but on politicians, political parties and the Independent National Electoral Commission to deliver a process so transparent and so credible that post-election litigation becomes the exception rather than the defining feature of our elections.
If we fail to restore that confidence, we will have traded the ballot for the bench—and in that trade, we will have lost the very essence of our sovereignty.
Allen writes on public affairs and advocates for good governance
