The road to 2027 is no longer a distant political calendar event. It is here. The gladiators are already in the arena, squaring up, guarding territories, testing alliances and deploying strategies that leave little doubt that the coming general election will be a winner-takes-all battle. In Nigerian politics, there is no prize for second place.
The entire political atmosphere is charged, tense, and transactional. The old cliché says all is fair in war and politics. But in a constitutional democracy, not all should be fair. There is supposed to be an umpire – the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) – whose constitutional duty is to checkmate excesses, guarantee a level playing field and protect the sanctity of the ballot.
What we are witnessing, however, suggests that the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC), both at the federal and state levels, is not leaving anything to chance. Its body language, its control of public infrastructure, its relationship with security agencies and its apparent tolerance of anti-opposition actions at the sub-national level all point to a deliberate strategy to shrink the political space.
Politics is visual. Visibility creates viability in the mind of the electorate. Take Lagos as a case study. Lagos is arguably Nigeria’s most politically competitive state, with at least five major parties jostling for the presidency, governorship, Senate, House of Representatives and State Assembly. Yet, a tour of the city – from train stations to shopping malls, from Third Mainland Bridge to Ikeja, from Alausa to Lekki – shows a near-total dominance of the ruling party’s billboards, posters and insignias.
There is no law in Lagos that forbids opposition parties from erecting billboards. But billboard politics in Lagos comes with unwritten terms and conditions. Cost, approval bottlenecks, and political considerations determine who gets prime locations.
Even where opposition parties manage to hoist posters, their materials often do not survive 48 hours. Area boys tear them, security agents remove them on ‘environmental’ grounds, or they are simply blacked out overnight. The effect is psychological – to render opposition parties non-existent in the public consciousness. If people do not see you, they assume you are not contesting.
This is not unique to Lagos. It is a national pattern, only with local variations. In Abia State, reports indicated that the government fixed N200,000 for presidential billboards, N150 million for governorship, N100,000 for Senatorial, N50,000 for House of Representatives and N20,000 for State House of Assembly campaign materials before candidates could advertise.
In the Federal Capital Territory, there were unconfirmed reports in August 2026 that the Minister, Nyesom Wike, fixed campaign boards at N750 million. While both Abia and the FCT authorities denied or downplayed these figures, the perception they created was enough: politics is being priced beyond the reach of many. The figures cited are based on media reports and political claims and were not independently verified for this analysis.
What is happening fits perfectly into what political scientists call Machiavellianism – a doctrine propounded by Niccolò Machiavelli, the Florentine diplomat, in 1513 in his book ‘The Prince’.
Machiavelli argued that the end justifies the means. In its crudest political application in Nigeria, it translates to: It is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be both. A ruler may lie, deceive, manipulate, and be ruthless, so long as it keeps power. Morality is weakness in politics. What matters is result, not method. Keep your friends close and enemies closer. Use people as tools and Power must be retained at all costs.
The signs of a Machiavellian political actor are clear: manipulative, cunning, always ten steps ahead with a hidden agenda, devoid of conscience, able to commit political evil and sleep soundly because it favours his interest.
Since 1999, Nigeria’s electoral cycles have increasingly displayed these traits, but the road to 2027 appears to be its peak. The doctrine is no longer hidden; it is practised openly.
Machiavellian politics in Nigeria is not just about posters. It is about money and the selective application of law.
The Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) has repeatedly stated that vote-buying is a crime under the Electoral Act. Yet, in reality, vote-buying has become institutionalised. In off-cycle elections in Kogi, Bayelsa, Imo, Edo, Ondo and Osun, observers documented open cash distribution at polling units. Voters are given money, made to swear an oath, or asked to snap their ballot as evidence of compliance.
Whether the money eventually reaches the voter or is diverted by middlemen is a different discussion, but the culture of monetised elections has come to stay.
Similarly, the law appears to have two versions. One for the ruling party and another for the opposition. The most glaring example is local government elections. Across Nigeria’s 36 states, irrespective of which party controls the state, the ruling party in that state sweeps 100 percent of local government chairmanships and councillorships. Not 80 percent, not 90 percent – 100 percent. In a democracy with genuine competition, that is statistically impossible without manipulation.
No discussion of Machiavellian politics in Nigeria today is complete without examining the role of the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Nyesom Wike.
Wike remains a member of the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) but serves in an APC-led federal government. He openly declares that he will work for President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s re-election while still influencing who becomes what in the PDP. Many opposition figures believe such dual loyalty cannot exist without tacit approval from the Presidency. It is the classic Machiavellian tactic: infiltrate the enemy camp, sow confusion, and keep it perpetually in crisis.
As a result, less than three months to the election, the PDP does not know who its presidential candidate is. INEC’s list, signed by its Secretary Rose Oriaran-Anthony, shows 18 candidates. It lists President Bola Tinubu for APC, Atiku Abubakar for ADC, Peter Obi for Nigeria Democratic Congress (NDC), Seyi Makinde for Allied Peoples Movement (APM), Sandy Ojang Onor for PDP, while another faction led by former Minister Kabiru Tanimu Turaki claims former President Goodluck Jonathan as its candidate. The matter is in court.
If the court overturns Sandy Onor’s candidacy close to the election, how will a replacement campaign nationwide? That uncertainty is itself a strategy – keep the opposition in court, not on the campaign trail.
Political actors and civil society groups point to four recurring methods: Police Summons and Criminalisation of Opposition: Former Kaduna Governor Nasir El-Rufai and ADC leaders were summoned by police for alleged criminal conspiracy and incitement; El-Rufai remains in detention till date.
Former Vice President Atiku Abubakar described it as a coordinated assault on civic freedoms. The APC responded that no one is above the law. The pattern, however, shows that opposition figures are far more likely to face high-profile police invitations than ruling party figures facing similar allegations.
Restriction of public space
In Osun, Abia, and Akwa Ibom, opposition parties accused Governors Ademola Adeleke, Alex Otti, and Umo Eno of revoking leases of campaign venues, deploying police to seal rally grounds, or denying use of stadiums. Governments denied political motives, citing security or unpaid fees. But the timing, always close to major opposition rallies, raises suspicion.
Legislative and electoral friction
In the National Assembly, opposition lawmakers walked out over moves to make electronic transmission of results optional rather than mandatory. For them, it was a deliberate weakening of transparency safeguards introduced in the 2022 Electoral Act.
Human rights and civic space
Human rights organisations warn that clampdowns, arbitrary arrests of activists, and intimidation of journalists create a chilling effect that damages Nigeria’s democratic credentials.
To be fair, governments at federal and state levels deny all allegations of stifling opposition. Their counter-narrative rests on four pillars: First, that they are merely enforcing the law. Corruption investigations and police summons are not political, but legal duties. Second, that opposition is crossing from dissent to sabotage, spreading disinformation and inciting chaos that threatens national security.
Third, that opposition parties lack coherent policy alternatives and rely on constant lamentation and victimhood to remain in the news.
Fourth, that many reported incidents are actions of overzealous local officials, area boys, or state-level actors, not a centrally coordinated federal directive.
These defences cannot be dismissed entirely. In some cases, opposition figures do weaponise allegations to avoid legitimate accountability. But when the pattern is nationwide, simultaneous, and benefits only one side, the ‘isolated incident’ explanation becomes less convincing.
This concern was recently echoed by Oyo State Governor and APM presidential candidate, Engr. Seyi Makinde. Speaking in Uyo during the Makinde/Daura 2027 Presidency South-South Town Hall meeting, Makinde noted that before 2023, APC had no foothold in the South-South, but after winning the presidency, began a systematic drive to capture the zone by stifling opposition.
‘I can tell you they are doing everything possible to ensure that the opposition does not unite,’ Makinde said. His statement underscores a fear among opposition governors that federal might is being used to coerce defections and weaken structures.
History teaches us why Machiavellian monopoly is dangerous. The collapse of the First Republic in 1966 was precipitated by a combination of ethnic rivalry, electoral fraud, and the suppression of opposition. When a ruling party believes it can crush all dissent, it closes channels for peaceful change, leaving extra-democratic forces to fill the vacuum.
Nigeria is too large, too diverse and too complex to be governed as a one-party state. A democracy without a viable opposition is an autocracy in disguise. It breeds apathy, fuels agitation, and in worst cases, invites military incursion under the guise of ‘correcting’ the polity.
If in 2027, Nigerians go to the polls feeling that their voices do not count, that opposition has no say, that whatever government says is truth – even when it is obvious that government has made mistakes and then claims its voice was cloned or generated by artificial intelligence – then we have crossed a dangerous line.
We would have built a democracy where the masses have no say, where institutions are captured, and where government never comes clean.
Machiavellianism may win elections, but it does not build a nation. It creates fear, not legitimacy. It creates compliance, not consent.
The 2027 election offers Nigeria a choice: continue down the path where the end justifies any means, or return to the foundational principle that democracy thrives on competition, dissent, and respect for the opposition.
INEC, the judiciary, security agencies and the media must rise above partisanship. The ruling party must realise that allowing opposition to breathe is not weakness; it is strength. And the opposition must realise that unity, not litigation, is its only antidote to Machiavellian capture.
Otherwise, we risk a victory that costs us our democracy.