Olu Allen
The cameras flashed. The governors clapped. The Vice President smiled.
At the Bola Ahmed Tinubu International Conference Centre in Abuja, a choreographed political spectacle unfolded.
Vice President Kashim Shettima submitted President Bola Tinubu’s nomination and expression of interest forms to contest the 2027 presidential election on the platform of the All Progressives Congress (APC).
Flanked by what the Progressives Governors Forum chairman, Hope Uzodimma, called “the majority of the governors”, and the Speaker of the House of Representatives, the event was political theatre.
But theatre is not democracy. What unfolded was not a celebration. It was the ruling class laughing while we struggle.
The disconnect between the spectacle and the suffering
The event’s messaging was triumphal. Shettima called the nomination form “priceless” and hailed the administration’s “phenomenal” socio-economic outcomes. APC National Chairman Professor Nentawe Yilwatda cited “improving economic indicators” as justification for the president’s re-election bid.
Those claims do not match reality. As of March 2026, Nigeria’s monthly inflation rate jumped to its highest level in more than two decades, propelled by surging fuel prices from the war in the Middle East.
The Central Bank of Nigeria’s declared inflation tolerance band for 2026 is 14.5 to 18.5 per cent. The lived experience of most Nigerians is relentless cost-of-living pressure.
This is not a guess. On May 8, 2026, the Diocese of Lagos issued a statement expressing “grave concern” over rising poverty, unemployment, and the worsening state of insecurity, including “rampant kidnapping” and “banditry”.
That same day, Reverend Joseph Hayab, Chairman of the Northern Christian Association, told a victims’ support programme in Kaduna that insecurity “had crippled farming and economic activities in many rural areas”.
A pregnant woman, Mrs Love Marcus, who was abducted from her community, gave birth while still held captive in a bandits’ camp. This is the country the political class is celebrating.
The sham of internal democracy
No healthy democracy treats nomination as a group clapping exercise. Best practices demand competitive primaries, policy debates, and accountability for past performance.
Citizens expect to hear: “Here is what I promised. Here is what I delivered.”
What did we hear at the conference centre? Silence on performance. Volume on loyalty.
Yilwatda noted that the president had been granted a “waiver” from screening to “honour that consensus” reached by the party’s governors. This is not a competitive process. It is the consolidation of control.
The pageantry served one purpose: to signal that the outcome was predetermined. Not by voters. Not by delegates. But by governors who owe their positions to the centre.
That is not democracy. That is a feudal oath dressed in agbada.
The wasted millions: a quiet violence
Each governor who flew to Abuja came with an entourage. They stayed in hotels. They ate catering. They posed for photographs.
All of it was paid for not from personal funds, but from state coffers. The money spent on this single day of pageantry could have provided medical supplies, repaired roads, or paid civil servants’ salaries.
This is not corruption in the crude sense. It is worse. It is the normalisation of waste as a political virtue. The message to citizens is clear: your suffering does not interrupt our celebration.
The strike they ignored
Do not be distracted by claims that “no university is on strike.” As of May 8, 2026, an ongoing nationwide strike by the Non-Academic Staff Union of Educational and Associated Institutions (NASU) and the Senior Staff Association of Nigerian Universities (SSANU) has shut down public universities since 1 May 2026.
The Joint Action Committee of non-teaching university staff is not scheduled to suspend the strike until Monday, 11 May 2026, pending government approval of commitments to conclude renegotiations.
As of today, services remain withdrawn. Lectures are not holding. Administrative work has stopped.
The Federal Government has even directed all Vice-Chancellors to submit daily attendance reports to monitor compliance.
Yet the same government that cannot resolve a non-teaching staff strike found time to organise a high‑gloss nomination ceremony, complete with a “priceless” form, multiple speeches, and a media blitz.
The Centre for Popular Education, University of Ibadan, criticised the Tinubu government for failing to honour agreements with the unions, warning that “Nigerian workers have been deceived too often with empty promises and timelines that are never honoured”.
That warning came on the very day of the pageantry.
Why this is not celebration — it is contempt
Celebration requires something to celebrate. What, exactly? Falling living standards? A currency that struggles to hold its value?
A security situation where bandits demand millions in ransom while pregnant women give birth in captivity? A university system crippled by a strike the government cannot resolve?
None of these things were mentioned at the conference centre.
The pageantry became a substitute for achievement. The louder the claps, the less the need to account for failure. That is contempt dressed as enthusiasm. The ruling class is not rejoicing with you — they are rejoicing that you have no choice.
A higher standard is possible
Political rallies and shows of support are not evil in themselves. Every democracy has ceremonial moments. But in functioning democracies, those moments come after a competitive process and alongside a sober accounting of performance.
What would a higher standard look like?
· A public debate among aspirants on national television.
· An independent review of the president’s first-term pledges versus outcomes.
· A transparent primary where delegates vote based on conscience, not coercion.
· A requirement that all political travel for nomination events be paid from personal or campaign funds — not state coffers.
· A resolution to the ongoing strike before asking citizens to clap for “renewed hope.”
None of this is radical. It is simply the minimum demanded by democratic maturity.
The final question for citizens
When you saw those governors clapping in unison, did you feel pride? Or did you feel a quiet, familiar anger, the knowledge that while they pose, you postpone medical care, skip meals, and pray that the next price hike does not come?
That anger is not cynicism. It is your democratic instinct still alive.
The ruling class may laugh while you struggle. But they laugh because they believe you will forget. They believe you will accept the pageantry as normal.
Do not accept it. Name it for what it is: a sham coronation, a waste of public funds, and a mockery of every Nigerian told to clap while their pockets empty.
Demand performance. Demand primaries. Demand accountability.
Because a country where leaders celebrate without achievement is not a democracy — it is a comedy, and the joke is always on the poor.
Allen writes on public affairs and advocates for good governance.
