In Nigeria’s ever-dramatic political theatre, party defections have become as predictable as the seasons, only more frequent and less justified. With each election cycle comes a mass migration of politicians, jumping ship not out of ideological conviction, but out of convenience, desperation, or the lust for political survival.
The truth is stark: our politics is no longer shaped by values, ideology, or vision, but by what party holds the keys to power at any given moment. This rising tide of defections has not only watered down political accountability but has also left voters wondering whether their votes were cast for individuals or institutions.
The ‘Why’ Behind the Defections.
In theory, democracy thrives on free association. But in practice, Nigerian politicians rarely defect because of lofty ideals. Most cross-carpeting is triggered by lost primaries, disagreements over sharing formulas, or the gravitational pull of the ruling party’s influence and access to state resources.
Others defect for immunity from probes or to escape political irrelevance. A few may claim principled protest, but even those often fall into the same old trap of seeking power without responsibility. In the end, it becomes a zero-sum game where political loyalty is no longer to the people but to opportunity.
Defections and the Death of Party Ideology.
What does it mean to be a member of a political party in Nigeria today?
Very little.
There is no real distinction between the APC and the PDP in terms of ideology, structure, or even internal governance. A party is no longer a platform of shared beliefs, it is simply a vehicle to power. That’s why a governor can win under Party A, jump to Party B within months, and still claim to be delivering the “dividends of democracy.”
This dangerous norm has weakened our democratic institutions and turned party politics into a business venture. Manifestos mean nothing. Campaign promises vanish overnight. And what remains is a cynical citizenry watching a predictable soap opera.
Legal Loopholes and Constitutional Silence.
The 1999 Constitution attempts to address this in Section 68(1)(g), which mandates that a lawmaker who defects without a division in their party loses their seat. But like many of Nigeria’s laws, this provision is selectively applied, depending on who’s defecting, to which party, and how close they are to the center of power.
Governors and presidents are completely excluded from this provision, which means they can defect freely while holding onto mandates that technically belong to their former parties. Courts have waded into the issue in various rulings, but the outcomes have been inconsistent, more political than judicial in many cases.
And so, impunity thrives. Defections happen in broad daylight. And the electorate is left powerless.
Implications for Democratic Growth.
At the heart of this political debacle is a distortion of the very idea of democracy. When politicians defect without consulting their constituents or seeking a fresh mandate, democracy suffers. Votes become meaningless. Party structures collapse. And institutions lose credibility.
Legislative assemblies are reshaped not by elections but by elite conspiracies and backdoor agreements. The balance of power is altered, not by the will of the people, but by the whims of power players.
If this trend continues unchecked, we are not only eroding democratic norms, we are sowing seeds of political chaos that could consume the very foundations of the state.
The Voters: Mere Pawns in the Game.
Perhaps the greatest tragedy of all is the disrespect to the electorate. Politicians make grand promises during campaigns, loyalty to the party, commitment to the people, and service to the nation. But the moment the tides shift, they dump the party and the people with equal audacity.
Worse still, voters have limited options. There are no real consequences for political betrayal. The recall process is long, tedious, and nearly impossible to actualize. So citizens are forced to watch as political actors rewrite the rules mid-game, with no consultation, no shame, and no accountability.
How Do We Fix This Mess?
It’s not all gloom. There are bold steps we can take if we are serious about preserving our democracy:
- Constitutional Reform: The National Assembly must amend the law to cover all elected officials—not just legislators. If you defect without a clear and legal reason, your seat should be declared vacant, and a fresh election should be held.
- Party Discipline: Political parties must reform internally. Impunity and impersonal structures within parties push genuine aspirants away. When parties become transparent, democratic, and disciplined, they will command loyalty.
- Judicial Clarity: The courts must provide clear, consistent interpretations on what constitutes a “division” in a political party. Ambiguity has been the friend of political opportunists for too long.
- Electoral Vigilance: INEC must be strengthened to play a proactive role—not just as an umpire during elections, but as a guardian of the integrity of the electoral process, including post-election mandates.
- Civic Education: The people must be sensitized. A politically aware electorate is the best check against reckless defections. When voters demand accountability and punish betrayal at the polls, politicians will think twice before defecting.
Conclusion: Beyond the Politics of Self.
Nigeria’s democracy is still young. But it cannot mature if the political class continues to treat the country as a chessboard. Party loyalty must mean something. Electoral mandates must be respected. And above all, politicians must remember that leadership is a trust not a trading license.
Until then, the politics of defection will continue to rob the people of genuine representation and mock the very essence of democracy.
It’s time we stopped dancing to this tune of opportunism and started building a political culture grounded in integrity, responsibility, and purpose.
