There are times when democracy walks with a limp. Rivers State today is such a theatre, where the ballot paper flutters not like a symbol of choice, but like a kite tossed in the storm of power. First, the Supreme Court “tore down” the October 2024 elections, declaring them a house built on sand. The Supreme Court’s nullification emphasises adherence to legal standards.
Then came the promise of a new dawn in August 2025. What the people wished for was a festival of representatives celebrating, and not a tug of legitimacy and expedience. The state electoral umpire shifts dates like a restless drummer searching for rhythm, while civil society raises its voice, crying foul over short notice and shaky grounds. Above it all, the ghost of a state of emergency hovers.
A governor suspended, a legislature in limbo, and the people asked to believe that their vote still matters. Democracy as the name implies is supposed to be like a river flowing, nourishing, and cleansing. However, in Rivers State, the water feels dammed and its current is redirected by unseen hands. The state of emergency and the rescheduled elections highlight tensions between power and procedural legitimacy.
The APC claims victory in 20 councils and the PDP is left with scraps, while voices like Atiku thunder from afar, urging the rejection of the election results, calling it a “shameful eyesore.”Observers nod politely at the conduct of voters and the security agency, but the profound question remains: when an institution wobbles, can the ballot still stand as the people’s staff of office?
Rivers' populace is not just voting for chairmen and councillors, but it is voting for greatness by faith. Therefore, if the local is broken, then the national cannot be whole. Likewise, when the ballot is mocked at the grassroots level, what then becomes of 2027 when the giants gather again? The local governance systems under the emergency rule at the moment raise important questions about democratic standards, federal influence, and electoral integrity.
Nigeria’s political season is already in full swing, though the 2027 elections are nearly two years away. Scenic imagery of political elites sprinting before the race even begins.
The storm is fierce, but storms do not last forever. Somewhere beneath the noise, the people still wait.
Farmers, traders, and the youths are holding on to the confidence that democracy, however battered, will yet find its footing somehow. The question now is whether the custodians of power will let the river flow free, or whether they will continue to bottle its waters for their own thirst.
William Z. Bozimo
Veteran Journalist | Columnist | National Memory Keeper.
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