By Chibuike Nwabuko
In a country where democracy is often paraded as a symbol of national pride, its very foundation is quietly being eroded by the very people tasked with upholding it—Nigeria’s parliamentarians.
More than two decades since the return to democratic rule in 1999, Nigeria still struggles with one of the most basic tenets of democracy: free, fair, and credible elections. At the heart of this dysfunction lies a powerful but often overlooked force – the National Assembly—which, by omission or inaction, has allowed the country’s electoral system to remain dangerously flawed.
The pattern has become familiar: widespread allegations of election rigging, vote buying, and violence, followed by protracted legal battles in election tribunals. Yet, despite public outcry and repeated promises of reform, the laws meant to safeguard Nigeria’s elections remain either toothless or absent altogether.
Election rigging in Nigeria is no longer just a political tactic; it’s a systemic illness, one that thrives because legislators have failed to criminalize electoral malpractice with serious consequences. Today, individuals caught perpetrating or sponsoring election fraud often walk free, or worse, gain political office.
Despite repeated calls from civil society, legal experts, and even electoral commissions, Nigeria’s parliament has done little to ensure that election riggers face stiff penalties or that electoral fraud is treated as a serious crime against the state. Without clear-cut punitive laws, electoral offences remain mere misdemeanours, encouraging impunity and eroding public trust.
Even more concerning is the common practice of swearing in election winners before the conclusion of election litigations. This process raises a troubling question: how can a democracy function when the legitimacy of its leaders remains unresolved?
In many cases, court verdicts on election disputes come months, sometimes years, after candidates have already assumed office. By then, the influence of incumbency, control of public resources, and political muscle can sway judicial outcomes or render them meaningless. The imbalance is stark, and the result is often justice delayed and, effectively, denied.
Parliament has consistently failed to pass legislation that would delay the swearing-in of electoral winners until all court cases are concluded. Such a reform would strengthen the integrity of Nigeria’s elections and give courts a fighting chance to resolve disputes without pressure or political interference. Yet, it remains absent from the books.
Nigeria’s democratic dysfunction doesn’t just stem from bad actors, it thrives on bad laws, or a lack thereof. The National Assembly has the constitutional power to legislate proactive, preventive, and corrective laws that address election malpractice at its root. But too often, lawmakers have chosen expediency over reform.
Clear-cut legislation can resolve many electoral disputes ab initio, reducing the need for prolonged and expensive litigation. Imagine a law that automatically disqualifies any candidate found to have rigged votes, or one that empowers INEC to enforce strict penalties without court intervention. These aren’t impossibilities; they’re missed opportunities.
Instead, Nigeria’s legal landscape remains reactive, courts are burdened with matters that could have been preempted by simple, clear laws.
Why has the National Assembly failed in this regard? Some say it’s self-preservation. Many of Nigeria’s legislators are products of the same flawed system, they benefit from it, and have little incentive to dismantle it.
A parliament that truly believes in democracy would prioritize electoral reform. It would listen to the cries of millions whose votes are rendered meaningless by thuggery, fraud, or courtroom drama. Instead, Nigeria’s lawmakers remain largely indifferent, watching the slow decay of democracy from the very chambers meant to protect it.
For Nigeria to fulfill the promise of democracy, the National Assembly must rise to its responsibility. Real reform begins with legislation—strong, honest, and enforceable laws that protect the sanctity of the ballot and guarantee that justice is not only done but seen to be done.
Until then, elections will remain contests of power, not principle; courtrooms will decide mandates more than polling units; and Nigeria’s democracy will continue to exist more in name than in practice.
“The true test of a democracy is not just in the conduct of elections, but in the laws that govern them.”
