by Olaitan Babatunde
On election day, Nigerians walk into polling units and choose between candidates whose names are already printed on the ballot. It feels like a direct choice. But long before voters see that ballot, another election has already taken place. Inside the political parties, aspirants have fought for tickets, party leaders have negotiated, alliances have been formed and candidates have emerged. In other words, the voter does not choose from everyone who wants to govern. The voter chooses from the people political parties have successfully nominated. This is why the real contest for political power in Nigeria often begins before the general election.
The Constitution recognises political parties as central institutions in the electoral process and gives the National Assembly power to make laws promoting internal democracy within them, including rules for party primaries, congresses and conventions. The reason is straightforward. A political party is not merely a logo printed beside a candidate’s name. It is the organisation that gives that candidate access to the electoral contest. Under the current Electoral Act 2026, parties can nominate candidates through direct primaries or consensus. The indirect primary system, in which a smaller group of delegates voted for candidates, was removed from the legal framework. That change is significant because the delegate system had concentrated the decisive vote in a relatively small group of party members.
Under a direct primary, the idea is much broader: party members participate directly in choosing the candidate. The logic is that an aspirant should have to convince the wider membership rather than only a carefully assembled group of delegates. But direct primaries do not automatically make a party democratic. Questions remain about who controls the membership register, who controls the party structures at ward and local government levels, how the exercise is organised and whether money or political influence can still affect participation. The 2026 reforms were intended to reduce the influence of the old delegate system, but analysts and political actors have continued to debate whether power has actually been dispersed or merely moved somewhere else.
Then there is consensus. On paper, consensus can be a perfectly legitimate way of avoiding a divisive primary. If several aspirants voluntarily agree that one person should represent the party, there may be no need for a competitive contest. The problem begins when “consensus” becomes another name for a decision reached by powerful party figures before ordinary members have had a meaningful opportunity to choose. INEC has reported concerns raised by the Inter Party Advisory Council that some aspirants were pressured to withdraw after influential party stakeholders had already identified preferred candidates. Those are attributed concerns, not proof that every consensus arrangement is imposed, but they illustrate why the distinction between agreement and pressure matters. The Electoral Act itself requires consensus arrangements to follow specific procedures, including written consent from aspirants who voluntarily withdraw and endorse the consensus candidate.
This is where the Nigerian idea of the political “godfather” enters the conversation. Godfatherism is not a formal constitutional office or legal position. It describes a political relationship in which an influential individual or network has substantial influence over who gets a party ticket, wins an election or controls access to political power. That influence can come from control of party structures, money, incumbency, relationships with delegates under the former system or the ability to mobilise supporters. Recent reporting on the 2026 primaries has continued to document the role of governors, party leaders, caucuses and other power brokers in shaping candidate emergence. But it is important not to reduce every successful party leader or internal negotiation to godfatherism. Political parties naturally require leadership, coordination and negotiation. The civic question is whether those processes leave meaningful room for members to participate and aspirants to compete.
The old delegate system also helps explain why party structures became so politically valuable. Under indirect primaries, controlling who became a delegate could influence who eventually voted at the convention. That meant political battles could begin months before the actual primary, during ward, local government and state congresses. Reports from the period describe how politicians invested heavily in party structures because the people who emerged from those structures could later become part of the electoral college choosing candidates. The 2026 law has removed that particular route, but it has not removed the broader importance of party organisation. A politician still needs people, structures, resources and relationships to compete effectively.
And this is the part voters should pay attention to. The power of political parties means that the general election is not the first opportunity for citizens to influence who governs them. Party members have an earlier opportunity during candidate selection. If you are a member of a political party, your participation in ward meetings, membership registration, congresses and primaries can matter long before INEC prints a ballot paper. If you are not a party member, you may have no direct vote in choosing that party’s candidate, but you still have a stake in understanding how the candidates on the final ballot emerged. A candidate may have won the general election by millions of votes, but the journey to that ballot could have involved decisions made by a much smaller political community.
This is why candidate selection deserves as much civic attention as election day itself. Nigerians often ask, “Who are we voting for?” A more fundamental question is, “Who decided that these were our choices?” The answer is usually a combination of party members, party rules, aspirants, delegates under the old system, party leaders, political networks and, increasingly under the 2026 framework, direct party membership or consensus arrangements. The law can change the procedure, but internal democracy ultimately depends on what political parties and their members do with the space the law provides. The ballot may belong to the voter, but before the voter gets to see it, the political party has already made one of democracy’s most consequential decisions: who gets to ask for the vote.
