Every four years — like clockwork, like harmattan dust, like the sudden appearance of relatives during Christmas — Nigerian politicians embark on what can only be described as a national cultural festival. It has no calendar date. No masquerade costume (except agbadas). No traditional drummers. Yet, the nation knows when it has arrived.
Welcome to The Great Political Festival of De-camping and Realignment — Nigeria’s most dramatic, unscripted, and ideologically bankrupt performance art.
In the old days, philosophers like Plato and Aristotle debated the “ideal state.” Nigerian politicians, however, debate “the ideal ticket.” And if their platform cannot offer them one, well, ideology can wait. Let the decamping begin.
When Socrates said, “An unexamined life is not worth living,” perhaps he was referring to Nigerian politicians who never examine the beliefs of the groups they flock to — because there are none. Today’s enemy is tomorrow’s mentor. Yesterday’s critic becomes today’s coalition partner — as long as there’s a promise of access or appointment.
They do not switch parties. They change uniforms in the same orchestra. The music of power remains the same; only the dancers swap sides.
The logic is simple: “If I’m not eating, I’m leaving.”
It’s not betrayal. It’s political metabolism.
The stomach must digest governance benefits. If it doesn’t, then the platform must be abandoned — quickly. So they cross over to the next “viable structure,” holding press conferences with straight faces, declaring:
“After careful reflection and in the interest of national development…”
Translation: I didn’t get the ticket.
Imagine if Mandela switched sides because he was denied minister of tourism. Or if Martin Luther King Jr. said, “I have a dream… but the zoning in that structure is more favourable!”
You see, Nigerian politics is not about ideology. It is abstract art — modern, confusing, yet auctioned at a high price.
In developed democracies, realignment happens because of deep-seated convictions — economic reforms, civil rights, or healthcare. In Nigeria, realignment happens because the zoning didn’t zone properly or someone’s “structure” looks more promising for the next election cycle.
And the beautiful part?
They all quote the same prophets.
They all promise “a better Nigeria.”
They all claim “my people called me.”
Who are these mysterious people? Historians are still investigating.
While the drama unfolds, you, dear voter, are expected to clap. Attend the decamping ceremony. Eat rice. Wear the branded T-shirt. Believe that a new saviour has emerged. Even if the saviour was part of the problem just yesterday.
And after the elections? Silence. Governance vanishes like Bluetooth in low network zones. You’ll wait four more years for the next grand decamping episode.
Dear citizens, as another election season approaches, remember:
If you treat politics like entertainment, don’t be surprised when clowns run the show.
Decamping isn’t the issue. The absence of purpose and principle is.
Let us demand conviction over convenience, truth over theatrics, and service over stomach infrastructure.
Until then, enjoy the circus. There’s always free jollof.
