In Nigeria’s political landscape, the road to re-election is often littered with deceit, desperation, and needless drama. Every election season, the same playbook unfolds, underperforming politicians, suddenly aware of their mortality at the polls, scramble to reconnect with the people they ignored for years. They rush to commission half-baked projects, share foodstuffs in photo ops, and plaster every street corner with their smiling faces. They preach humility after years of arrogance, and promise continuity after a tenure defined by failure. Yet, beneath all the noise lies a simple truth: performance is the best campaign strategy, while propaganda is the last refuge of the unproductive.
Elected office is not a personal inheritance or a four-year contract for wealth accumulation; it is a solemn mandate to serve. Unfortunately, too many Nigerian politicians treat public office as a prize rather than a platform for impact. They arrive in power with big promises and leave with bigger excuses. They measure success not by the number of lives they improve but by the number of convoys they command, aides they employ, or houses they built. When election time approaches, they dust off the same tired slogans, organize loud rallies, and expect the people’s short memory to do the rest.
But the Nigerian electorate is gradually evolving. Voters are beginning to connect governance with personal welfare. When people feel the impact of good leadership in their daily lives, steady power supply, good roads, functioning schools, affordable food, and security, they become the politician’s natural campaigners. You would not need to hire praise-singers when the people themselves can testify. Performance sells itself; propaganda struggles to survive the truth.
Consider the difference between governors and legislators who delivered real results and those who governed through noise. Babatunde Fashola, as governor of Lagos State, did not need to beg for validation; his performance spoke for him. His projects were visible, his reforms tangible, his results measurable. The same could be said of Peter Obi in Anambra State as he was prudent, focused, and people-centered. Both leaders did not just serve; they led with integrity and purpose. Their records made them political brands beyond their states.
On the flip side, there are politicians who spent four or eight years in office and left no legacy beyond inflated budgets and abandoned projects. When re-election came calling, they resorted to desperate theatrics by renting crowds, buying endorsements, and spreading falsehoods about imaginary achievements. Some even tried to rewrite their failures as “work in progress,” but Nigerians are no longer easily deceived. The internet never forgets; neither do hungry citizens.
The lesson is simple: genuine service eliminates the need for desperate campaigning. A performing leader does not need to beg for a second term; the people insist on it. A failed leader, on the other hand, spends fortunes trying to convince voters that failure is success. Yet, no amount of propaganda can substitute for the absence of performance. You cannot buy credibility with slogans or bribes. Credibility is built daily, through transparent governance, accountability, and results.
Every elected official should understand that governance itself is the real campaign. The moment you take the oath of office, your second-term campaign begins, not through posters, but through policies. Every budget signed, every project launched, every promise made and kept contributes to your future ballot box performance. If your policies are anti-people, if your governance alienates the citizens, no amount of last-minute rehabilitation will save you when it is time to face the voters.
It is time for Nigerian politicians to break this cycle of performance amnesia. Leadership should not be about manipulation; it should be about measurable impact. Leaders must learn to prioritize people-oriented policies; initiatives that directly improve the standard of living of citizens, empower youth, support small businesses, and strengthen public institutions. When the people can see progress, they respond with loyalty and trust. That is how democratic legitimacy is built, not through deception, but through delivery.
The problem with many Nigerian politicians is not that they do not know what to do; it is that they refuse to do it unless it benefits them politically or financially. They forget that power is transient and that the real legacy of leadership is not in the number of years served but in the number of lives touched. The late Obafemi Awolowo is still celebrated decades after his passing not because he ran endless campaigns, but because his policies transformed education and governance in Western Nigeria. That is the timeless power of people-centered performance.
Every administration must therefore ask: what can we do that will outlive our tenure? What policy will make life better for the people and position us for a credible return to office? It is not rocket science. Provide steady electricity and citizens will reward you. Ensure security and peace, and you’ll earn trust. Fix the economy and food prices and no one will need to remind people to vote for you. But ignore the people, and you’ll spend the election season defending the indefensible.
The time has come to retire the politics of begging and blackmail. Nigerian politicians must realize that leadership is not about self-preservation; it is about public service. The people owe no one a second term; it must be earned through consistent, credible, and compassionate governance. When you govern well, the people will campaign for you voluntarily. When you fail, even your loudest praise-singers will desert you when the chips are down.
At the end of the day, performance is the most powerful campaign message. Propaganda may win headlines, but only performance wins hearts. Those who understand this truth do not fear elections; they welcome them, because their record is their manifesto.
If every Nigerian politician could embrace that reality, our democracy would mature faster, and elections would become contests of ideas rather than competitions in deceit. Until then, those who fail the people will continue to beg for what competent leaders earn effortlessly, a second chance. Performance, not propaganda, remains the surest path to political survival.
