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Nigeria’s democratic illogic 17 Sep 2026

Like in many estates in Lagos, the gates into and out of the one where I live are automated. The integrated security system includes spikes, a barrier, a scanner, and a traffic light. Security personnel also man the gates to ensure the system works and to enforce its rules. The side gates allow only residents with a valid e-tag on their vehicle to drive through. When a vehicle approaches any of the gates, the scanner reads the e-tag on the vehicle’s windscreen. If it is valid, the spikes retract, the barrier lifts, and the red traffic light turns green, signalling the vehicle to proceed.

But one day recently, I wanted to drive out through one of the side gates. As I approached the gate, the scanner read my vehicle’s e-tag. Since it was valid, the barrier lifted. But the red light did not turn green. As one drives close to the scanner, the spikes are out of sight. So, I couldn’t tell whether they had gone underground or remained above ground. Therefore, the traffic light served as my prompt – as it is by convention the world over. Therefore, I didn’t move because it remained red.

In that moment of caution and deference to the traffic light rule, the security men gestured aggressively for me to drive through. As I tried to process what that meant when the traffic light remained red, the motorists behind me started hooting, expressing displeasure at the delay. I quickly realised that the security system had become disarticulate. While the scanner, the barrier, and the spikes remained functionally interconnected, the traffic light was not. Nobody around seemed to understand why I hesitated; no one sympathised with me for the state of confusion I was in.

Micro-Level Drift

My experience vividly captures the growing, common governance incoherence at the micro level in Nigeria. This drift shows how Nigerians adapt to macro-governance incoherence as public officials ignore laws and institutional rules. It highlights a governance system that is disarticulate – where policy and practice diverge, where formal power is exercised beyond legal permission, and where sheer improvisation replaces official procedure. It is a governance system that teaches citizens not to take it seriously. This is the essence of governance incoherence: a system whose signals contradict its rules, whose operators override its logic, and whose citizens learn that compliance is irrational.

In that state of malfunction, my estate gate actually worked better than Nigeria’s government. Three of the gate’s four coordinated functions worked; only the traffic light failed within the complex system. But in the country’s political governance, each arm of government exhibits considerable, deep-seated dysfunction. In its democracy, instead of upholding the principles of separation of powers and checks and balances, the legislature and the judiciary are systematically subsumed by the will of the executive. In recent years, the legislature is routinely caricatured as a “rubber stamp” of the president. Similarly, citizens now make the judiciary the butt of popular jokes. In the most cynical displays, disputants flippantly tell their opponents to “go to court” – implying that true justice is no longer found there.

The responses of the gatemen in my estate and the other motorists reflect how deeply citizens have internalised this governance incoherence. They do not expect institutions to perform correctly. They are ever ready to improvise rather than restore the logic of a system that temporarily breaks down. Not only do they not abide by public rules, but they also don’t expect anyone to affirm them scrupulously. It is a chaotic and warped situation, where law-abiding citizens are ridiculed, harassed, and even punished by law enforcement officers, while lawbreakers consistently get ahead. Ultimately, being mindful of the rules earned me nothing but hostility.

Adoption vs. Practice

Governance incoherence has become a major obstacle to Nigeria's national progress. Leaders constantly navigate murky terrain between constitutional rules and illegal power; everyday citizens weigh the immediate benefits of breaking the law against the stagnation of being law-abiding. It is almost impossible for any of these actors to escape the profound stress and strain these inherent contradictions generate.

Scholars and African statesmen, including Nigeria’s former president, Chief Olusegun Obasanjo, have noted that democracy is not working in Africa, often explaining this failure by its foreign origin as a Western model. But like every other form of government, democracy is not inherently perfect. However, as the most widely adopted system in the world, democracy certainly has strong merits. But those merits are not automatically delivered by mere adoption; they are realised through deliberate practice and a continuous commitment to improving it. The same principle applies to any governance system, whether parliamentary or presidential, federal or unitary.

In Nigeria, and elsewhere where democracy has failed to deliver tangible progress, its adoption noticeably diverges from its practice. Democracy, as ‘a government of the people, by the people, and for the people', fundamentally requires free and fair elections to secure a legitimate mandate to govern. It requires vital institutions to function independently. And it requires the absolute supremacy of the law. Instead, Nigeria’s democracy is increasingly restricting franchise and falsifying the people’s choices. It is witnessing severe institutional degradation as political leaders remain hell-bent on controlling independent arms of government and other vital agencies. Consequently, the rule of law has become subject to the shifting discretion – or lack thereof – of leaders in powerful positions.

Where this situation persists, the dividends of democracy are directly eroded rather than harnessed. The fundamental illogic of formally claiming a form of government while actively negating its tenets has severe, negative ramifications. Chief among them is a structural misalignment between the political system and the country’s developmental ambitions. While Nigeria's aspirations – industrialisation, inclusive growth, social welfare, and international competitiveness – derive from the promises of federalism and presidentialism, political power remains heavily concentrated at the centre. Furthermore, a nation that seeks to achieve these development goals through significant private sector investment directly contradicts itself by eroding the rule of law, blurring regulatory frameworks, and elevating discretionary power – thereby corroding vital investor confidence.

Chronicle of Mismatch

Nigeria has never coherently operationalised its chosen form or system of government. In the First Republic, the country adopted a parliamentary democracy. This system relies on robust, mature political parties. However, the party system was still nascent and highly unstable at the country’s independence. Accordingly, parties served primarily as regional platforms for contesting federal power rather than vehicles for national cohesion. This structural flaw brewed deep-seated crises that ultimately triggered the country's first military coup.

During a combined 29 years of the first and second military interregna (from 1966–1979 and 1983–1999, respectively), the technocratic discipline required for a military autocracy to function efficiently was largely absent. That absence resulted, in part, from internal self-attrition. Top military officers were targeted for assassination in successive coups, and the heavy ethnic colouration of these upheavals meant that ruling factions of the military actively excluded senior officers who did not share their ethnicity. What’s more, the newly independent country and its young military lacked the institutional experience to govern successfully. Therefore, the first interregnum not only featured a catastrophic 30-month civil war, but it also squandered the monumental opportunity provided by the 1970s oil boom to build robust fiscal savings for the future.

While the democratic dispensation of the Second Republic was short-lived, lasting only four years, the Third Republic was a stillbirth. Both eras were marred by electoral shenanigans that made them untenable – particularly the convoluted 1992–1993 transition programme. This historical baggage is precisely why ongoing electoral malpractices should be viewed as an existential threat to the survival of the Fourth Republic.

The adoption of a US-style presidential democracy in 1979 occurred against a stark backdrop of institutional weakness. Furthermore, the military had long ruled the federation under a highly centralised, unitary command structure, which directly conflicted with the country’s constitutional federal framework. This centralisation of power has endured ever since. Another major contradiction is our formal embrace of constitutionalism while simultaneously disallowing the organic development of a true constitutional culture. 

Across every era, Nigeria adopted systems whose internal logic it never adequately operationalised – producing a governance culture defined by contradiction rather than coherence. The Fourth Republic began with the deliberate subordination of a clear constitutional provision. Whereas the 1999 Constitution sets out general eligibility criteria that allow a presidential candidate to emerge from any of the country's six geopolitical zones, an informal, extra-constitutional elite consensus strictly limited eligibility to the Southwest. As a result, the two major candidates in the historic 1999 presidential election came exclusively from that region, with one of them emerging as President. 

This extra-constitutional bargain was struck to placate the region after a northern military president had annulled the watershed 12 June 1993 presidential election won by a Southwest Yoruba man, MKO Abiola. As I point out in my book, Youth Breed: How Generations of Nigerian Youth Impact Their Country, the transition programme could have formally enshrined presidential power rotation in the 1999 Constitution to ensure coherence between the legal framework and political practice.

When the governance form is systematically negated by its everyday operation, its broader development frameworks, such as economic policy, social welfare, infrastructure development, and public service delivery, cannot run optimally. Nigeria’s democratic illogic has essentially produced inconsistent policy implementation, weak regulatory enforcement, highly politicised institutions, and a volatile investment climate. These systemic failures have resulted in low public trust in government, weak economic performance, and chronic underdevelopment. With the governance machinery internally incoherent, a severe structural mismatch persists between national aspirations and national outcomes. Until Nigeria resolves this fundamental democratic illogic, true development will remain elusive. Building on a wrong foundation is not only absurd but risks ultimate collapse.

Path Dependence

The development realities of many countries around the world result from the strict coherence between the system they adopted and how they operationalised it. South Korea stands as one of the clearest examples of a state that aligned its governance form with its developmental aspirations. It adopted a developmental state model, rather than a liberal democracy, in the 1960s and 1970s. As a mark of its internal governance coherence, South Korea built and rigorously maintained a strong bureaucracy, technocratic leadership, a targeted industrial policy, an aggressive export orientation, and rule-based institutional discipline. 

Even after successfully transitioning to democracy in the late 1980s, the country kept its underlying institutional logic completely intact. It continues to maintain predictable rules, strong institutions, and a clear national development agenda. Across two vastly different systems, South Korea demonstrated that internal coherence – rather than the specific form of government – is what ultimately drives development.

Similarly, Singapore exemplifies a highly functional hybrid system. Its electoral politics coexists with a strong, technocratic authoritarianism. Over the three decades during which its foundational leader, Lee Kuan Yew, held sway – and continuing to this day – the city-state has maintained extraordinary consistency between its adopted form of governance and its day-to-day operationalisation. The rule of law is strict, the bureaucracy is uncompromisingly meritocratic, and institutions remain entirely coherent. The system is globally recognised as not being fully democratic, and it operated exactly that way, with strict discipline and an unwavering commitment to its development goals. What followed is one of the most remarkable stories of national transformation in modern history.

Conversely, Haiti and Venezuela provide stark, cautionary tales for Nigeria’s democratic illogic. Both nations, like Nigeria, are constitutional democracies on paper. After decades of brutal dictatorship, Haiti adopted a constitutional democratic framework. Yet its institutions remained weak, the rule of law was applied inconsistently, and political power became deeply personalised. Although elections are held, institutional autonomy, rule-based governance, and predictable policy never took root, resulting in chronic instability, weak state capacity, and persistent underdevelopment.

In Venezuela's constitutional democracy, the rule of law was systematically eroded from within, institutions were highly politicised, and economic policy became entirely discretionary rather than rule-based. The democracy exists in form but has long ceased to exist in function, resulting in both institutional collapse and economic implosion. 

Nigeria sits between these examples. It adopted democracy like Haiti and Venezuela, but it aspires to development like South Korea and Singapore, without operationalising the logic required for either outcome. Nigeria’s contemporary reality sits precisely at the intersection of political science, sociology, and development economics. Despite grand aspirations for national unity, the country remains deeply fractured. And despite policies designed to promote the economic welfare of citizens, Nigerians are experiencing unprecedented social chaos and rising poverty levels.

The simple question is: is change possible? The answer is a resounding yes. But the harder, more pertinent question is how to bring that change about. Nigerians have seen clearly since 2015 that transformational change requires far more than a political slogan. Since the “Change” mantra helped usher a new ruling coalition into power, the country has retrogressed across key development indices. However, the country’s retrogression did not start in 2015. Before that transition, unfolding structural realities had already caught up with the country’s deep democratic contradictions.

Path Dependence theory suggests that Nigeria faces formidable odds in getting on track to achieve its development goals. The theory holds that countries often become locked into rigid trajectories shaped by early institutional choices. If, as is the case, Nigeria adopted a democracy but continues to operationalise it through military-era centralisation, executive discretion, and highly personalised power, the entire system becomes structurally trapped in this deep-seated incoherence.

Aligning Rules and Settlements

Correcting the negative outcomes of Nigeria’s democratic illogic will not be achieved through economic reform alone, no matter how astutely designed. The deeper solution lies in aligning the country’s formal rules with the political realities that govern how power is actually exercised. Political Settlement theory holds that development depends on how well elite interests align with institutional rules. In Nigeria, that alignment is structurally unstable because power is personalised rather than institutionalised; informal elite bargains routinely override formal rules. Across successive administrations, political survival has consistently trumped institutional integrity, producing widespread public cynicism towards the ruling class.

For transformational change to begin, the law must finally become supreme, exactly as the Constitution prescribes. Nigeria must be governed as a genuine federation – fiscally, in security architecture, and in regulatory devolution of power. Institutions must be granted the independence to function, fully upholding the separation of powers rather than remaining subordinated to powerful personalities. Elections, whether cycle or off-cycle, must be governed by absolute fairness and transparency. Accountability mechanisms, such as judicial independence, robust legislative oversight, and administrative transparency, must become consistent practices rather than occasional anomalies.

Internal cohesion in governance is the non-negotiable foundation for development. Without coherence, policy volatility will persist. Sweeping reforms will be announced but implemented inconsistently. Public institutions will remain paralysed, existing in name only and unable to enforce rules or deliver services. National development will drift, and while aspirations will rise, outcomes will remain stagnant.

Nigeria’s future depends on aligning the system it claims to uphold with the system it practices. This is the foundational choice for development. Without institutional coherence, progress will remain a mirage. With it, a stable and prosperous future becomes possible.

Jide Akintunde, Managing Editor of Financial Nigeria publications, is the author of Youth Breed: How Generations of Nigerian Youth Impact Their Country.