In today’s Nigeria, godfatherism and political cabalism have grown into a hulking monster, draped in expensive fabrics, fed on public funds, with a wicked smirk that knows its power is absolute. This creature prowls our political terrain, devouring the soul of democracy one bite at a time. It slinks into party meetings and electoral commissions, whispering names of “chosen candidates” long before the first ballot paper is printed. In its claws, the will of the people is as fragile as dry leaves in the harmattan -- easily crumbled, scattered without care.
Once upon a time, democracy promised freedom, choice, and accountability. But the monster’s grip is tight, and Nigerians now watch elections like badly written soap operas where the ending is known before the first scene. The ballot paper is no longer an expression of the people’s will; it is simply the prop in a puppet show whose strings are pulled from a godfather’s mansion. Leaders become mannequins dressed in authority, performing scripts written by invisible hands behind the curtain.
This beast has no loyalty to the people who line up under the hot sun to vote. Its allegiance lies entirely with the godfathers who feed it -- moneybags with bottomless pockets and endless appetite for power. It decides who gets a ministerial chair, who becomes governor, and even who gets a “lucrative” contract. The citizens watch helplessly, their voices muted like a television turned down to zero, their votes devalued until they are mere confetti tossed at victory parties that were planned months before the election.
Within the corridors of power, the monster plays matchmaker between incompetence and authority. Public appointments are no longer the reward of skill or vision but the dowry paid to those who swear undying loyalty to the godfather. A man may have no knowledge of health administration, yet find himself in charge of hospitals, simply because he once clapped the loudest at a campaign rally. In this strange marriage, merit is the unwanted guest. Inefficiency and mediocrity take the honeymoon, birthing corruption and stagnation that choke the nation’s progress.
The monster’s laughter echoes in the marble halls of government whenever the topic of accountability arises. Protected leaders, shielded by godfather influence, saunter through office without fear of the people who supposedly elected them. Public funds leak away like water from a cracked pot, and no one dares ask where they went. Justice, equality, and progress — the promised dividends of democracy — are replaced with deprivation and deceit, neatly packaged in political speeches and false statistics.
In matters of development, the monster’s appetite shapes the national budget. It decides which road is built, which school is renovated, which hospital gets new beds — and none of these decisions are based on public need. Instead, they are calculated offerings to please the great godfather and maintain his favour. Projects become currency, inflated contracts the bribes of survival, while essential services like education, health, and agriculture are left gasping for air in the corner.
The consequences are heavy and cruel. Corruption flourishes in the shade of the godfather’s umbrella. Impunity dances freely, unafraid of the law. Inequality sharpens its claws on the backs of the poor while the rich toast to “success” in gold-rimmed glasses. Citizens grow weary and distrustful, their faith in democracy corroded by years of betrayal. Apathy spreads. Protests rumble quietly, waiting for the spark that could send them roaring into the streets. The moral compass of governance spins wildly, unable to point towards justice when loyalty to the godfather outweighs loyalty to the constitution.
The remedy, though difficult, is not impossible. This monster can be starved. Its food source is the unchecked power of political patrons, and starving it requires the strengthening of institutions — courts that refuse political interference, electoral commissions that ignore secret phone calls, security agencies that serve the law, not the godfather’s will. Citizens must look the beast in the eye and demand that leaders owe their loyalty to the public alone. Transparent elections, merit-based appointments, and vigilant civic participation are the weapons that will drive the creature back into the shadows.
Yet while this monster roams through our establishments and institutions, professionalism withers. Every sector it touches becomes politicised. Judges bow to political pressure. Civil servants play to the tune of party bosses. Even security agencies turn into personal guards for the powerful instead of protectors of justice. Once independent, these bodies now march to the rhythm of the godfather’s drum.
And in its wake, inefficiency blooms like weeds in a neglected garden. Offices become dens of waste, policies lose their way, and service delivery collapses into a heap of promises never kept. Governance turns into theatre without talent, just noise and costume changes, as the monster lounges lazily, gnawing on the resources meant for the people.
Godfatherism and cabal politics are the sworn enemies of democracy in contemporary Nigeria. As long as the monster sits in the governor’s seat and whispers into the president’s ear, the nation’s steps towards justice, peace, and prosperity will be slow, painful, and uncertain. True progress will come only when the leash is broken, when the people’s will storms back into national politics, and when the puppet strings are cut forever. Only then will the monster starve, and only then will democracy breathe freely once again.
EBIKABOWEI KEDIKUMO - writes from Ayakoromo Town, Delta State
