The unfolding drama surrounding the recent political movements of Peter Obi and Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso, particularly their reported departure from the African Democratic Congress to a newly formed party, the Nigeria Democratic Congress, offers yet another sobering reflection on the fragile architecture of opposition politics in Nigeria. At a time when the masses yearn for a coherent alternative, what they are instead confronted with is a theatre of personal ambitions, shifting loyalties, and ideological emptiness.
Obi’s admission of “growing hostility, misrepresentation, and internal political challenges” is not merely a personal lament; it is symptomatic of a deeper malaise afflicting opposition politics. The crisis within the ADC, now culminating in high-profile exits, reinforces a troubling pattern: political parties in Nigeria are seldom vehicles of ideas; they are often platforms of convenience. This absence of ideological clarity continues to alienate the very people these parties claim to represent, the masses and the working class.
The fragmentation of the opposition cannot be divorced from the strategic calculations of the ruling establishment under President Bola Tinubu, as I earlier predicted in my opinion and all that we are seeing in our very eyes without bias or fear of contradiction. Whether by design or by default, the ruling order thrives when dissent is divided. But it would be intellectually dishonest to attribute the opposition’s crisis solely to external manipulation. The more fundamental issue lies within: the persistent inability of opposition leaders to subordinate personal ambition to collective purpose.
Take, for instance, the controversy surrounding Atiku Abubakar and the zoning debate. The argument that the presidency should rotate to the South is not without merit in Nigeria’s delicate ethno-political balance. However, the vehemence with which this demand is framed often betrays less of a principled stance and more of a tactical positioning. When political actors speak of “turns,” one must ask: whose turn is it really – the masses or the elite political class?
The criticism of Atiku’s continued presidential ambition, particularly in light of past electoral outcomes, underscores a broader frustration with recycled leadership. Many Nigerians perceive figures like Atiku as embodiments of a political order that has consistently failed to deliver meaningful change. Yet, the irony remains that those who oppose him often lack a unifying framework beyond mere opposition. Thus, the electorate is left choosing not between competing visions, but between competing personalities.
What is perhaps most disheartening is the normalisation of political cross-carpeting.
The ease with which politicians migrate from one party to another erodes public trust and weakens institutional integrity. In established democracies, party affiliation is anchored in ideology and policy orientation. In Nigeria, it is frequently dictated by electoral convenience and access to power. This fluidity not only confuses voters but also undermines the development of a disciplined, programmatic opposition.
The consequences for the masses are profound. Without a credible opposition grounded in clear ideological commitments, the interests of ordinary Nigerians become secondary. Issues such as unemployment, inflation, and public service delivery are overshadowed by elite bargaining and intra-party disputes. The political space becomes an arena for power acquisition rather than a platform for social transformation.
Moreover, the funding structure of Nigerian politics further complicates matters. Parties that rely on wealthy patrons or individuals with questionable financial histories are inherently compromised. Such dependence makes it difficult to pursue policies that genuinely challenge entrenched interests. A truly people-oriented party must derive its strength—and its resources—from the collective contributions of its supporters. Until this shift occurs, the rhetoric of serving the masses will remain largely performative.
The reported move of the so-called “OK ticket” to yet another political platform only reinforces the cyclical nature of Nigeria’s opposition politics. New parties emerge, old alliances dissolve, and familiar faces reappear under different banners. Yet, the underlying dynamics remain unchanged. Without a deliberate effort to build institutions rather than personalities, these realignments will continue to produce more of the same.
It is also worth interrogating the language of “national service” often invoked by political actors. While Obi’s commitment in this regard may be genuine, it must be matched by a willingness to engage in the difficult work of institution-building. Personal integrity, while essential, is insufficient in the absence of a coherent political structure capable of translating vision into policy.
The crisis of the opposition is a crisis of purpose. Until Nigerian political actors articulate a clear ideological framework ─ one that prioritises social justice, economic equity, and democratic accountability ─ the masses will remain peripheral to the political process. The current trajectory, marked by division and opportunism, offers little hope for transformative change.
The way forward requires more than rhetorical commitments; it demands structural rethinking. Opposition leaders must resist the temptation of short-term gains and invest in long-term credibility. They must build parties that are not only electorally viable but also ideologically grounded. Most importantly, they must reconnect with the lived realities of Nigerians, whose patience with political theatrics is steadily wearing thin.
In the final analysis, the question is not whether Obi, Kwankwaso, or any other figure finds a new political home. The real question is whether the opposition, in whatever form it takes, can transcend its internal contradictions and genuinely represent the aspirations of the Nigerian people. Until that question is answered in the affirmative, the masses will remain spectators in a political game that continues to exclude them.
Moshood Oshunfurewa Oshunfurewa writes from Lagos via [email protected]
