Opinion
By Tony Onyima
POLITICALLY, the Idemili North and South Federal Constituency occupies a strategic position in Anambra State. It is one of the state’s most politically conscious constituencies, with a diverse population comprising urban, semi-urban, and semi-rural communities. Its electoral significance is equally impressive. With 246,318 registered voters, Idemili North alone accounts for 8.79 per cent of Anambra State’s approximately 2.8 million registered voters, making it the local government area with the highest voter population in the state.
Given its demographic weight and political relevance, one would expect the constituency to serve as a model of democratic participation. Instead, it has become a troubling example of how democracy can be hollowed out from within.
The recently concluded All Progressives Grand Alliance (APGA) primaries in Idemili presented a paradox: a democratic exercise conducted without the meaningful participation of the people. Abraham Lincoln famously described democracy as “government of the people, by the people, and for the people.” Yet what transpired in Idemili appeared to embody a different principle altogether: government of the few, by the few, and for the few.
At the heart of every democratic system lies participation. Elections and party primaries derive their legitimacy not merely from procedures and paperwork but from the active involvement of citizens and party members. Democracy ceases to be democratic the moment participation is restricted to a privileged handful. When a small group arrogates to itself the power to determine candidates and political outcomes without broad consultation, democracy gives way to oligarchy, and representation becomes an illusion. How else can one describe the brazen disregard for democratic norms that occurred in the Idemili Federal Constituency, where 13 individuals constituted themselves into a conclave and assumed the authority to select a candidate who would fly the party’s flag in the 2027 House of Representatives elections? Idemili was not alone. Similar arrangements reportedly occurred in six other local government areas in Anambra State in respect of the State House of Assembly election.
The issue is not merely that a small group made decisions. It is that such decisions are now being defended in ways that raise troubling questions about the meaning of democracy within political parties. One defence is that the Electoral Act permits political parties to adopt consensus as a method of selecting candidates. This is undoubtedly true. However, the mere invocation of consensus does not make a process consensual. Consensus is not a decree handed down by a select few; it is an agreement painstakingly built through consultation, negotiation, persuasion, and accommodation. It derives its legitimacy from inclusiveness and widespread acceptance.
A process driven by fewer than 13 individuals whose political preferences and allegiances to a particular aspirant are already widely known can scarcely be described as consensus. At best, it is a tyranny by a small circle of insiders. Genuine consensus emerges from the bottom up, reflecting the collective will of party members and stakeholders. It cannot be manufactured from the top down by a conclave that excludes the very people whose consent is required. To equate the decision of a handful of political actors with consensus is to stretch the meaning of the concept beyond recognition and undermine the democratic spirit that the Electoral Act seeks to preserve.
A second defence is the familiar claim that “the party is supreme.” Again, this principle is not in dispute. Political parties possess the authority to regulate their affairs and determine how candidates emerge. However, party supremacy cannot be separated from the structures and principles that confer legitimacy on it. The difficulty with the Idemili example is that, apart from two participants, the individuals who reportedly constituted themselves into a conclave and selected a candidate were not officers of any recognised organ of the party. They were neither exercising powers delegated to them by the party constitution nor acting pursuant to a transparent mandate from the membership. Their decisions, therefore, cannot easily be presented as an expression of party supremacy. More fundamentally, the supremacy of a political party is itself derived from the collective sovereignty of its members. A political party is not an abstract entity existing above the people who constitute it. It is an association whose authority derives from its members’ consent and participation. To invoke party supremacy while excluding party members from meaningful participation is to invert the very principle being invoked. Party supremacy cannot become a convenient cloak for the preferences of a handful of influential actors. It must reflect the collective will of the membership expressed through recognised organs, transparent procedures, and democratic engagement.
When the decisions of 13 individuals are elevated above the voices of thousands of party members and stakeholders, what is being asserted is not the supremacy of the party but the supremacy of a faction. The distinction is critical. One strengthens democracy; the other weakens it.
The issue, therefore, is not merely about who emerged as candidates. It is about the process through which they emerged. Democracy is as much about procedure as it is about outcome. A candidate produced through an opaque process, no matter how qualified, carries a legitimacy deficit. Conversely, a candidate who emerges through a transparent and participatory process enjoys the moral authority that comes from the consent of party members and stakeholders. Political parties are often described as the gatekeepers of democracy. They recruit leaders, aggregate interests, and provide citizens with platforms for political participation. When internal democracy is sacrificed on the altar of expediency, friendship, or political convenience, the entire democratic edifice is weakened. A party that denies its members the right to choose candidates cannot convincingly claim to champion democratic values in the larger society.
The consequences of such exclusionary practices extend beyond party politics. They breed apathy among voters, discourage political participation, and deepen public cynicism about the electoral process. Citizens who feel their voices do not matter gradually withdraw from civic engagement. They stop attending meetings, stop voting, and stop believing that politics can be a vehicle for change. In the long run, democracy suffers because it depends not only on institutions but also on the trust and participation of the people. The irony is striking. In a constituency with one of the largest concentrations of voters in Anambra State, the political preferences of thousands appear to have been subordinated to the decisions of just 13 people. The larger the electorate, the greater the obligation to ensure inclusiveness, transparency, and fairness. Instead, the reverse appears to have occurred.
History teaches that democracy is rarely destroyed overnight. More often, it is eroded gradually through acts of exclusion that become normalised. Every time citizens are denied participation, every time decisions are made behind closed doors, and every time party members are treated as spectators rather than stakeholders, another brick is removed from the foundation of democratic governance.
The lesson from Idemili is therefore larger than Idemili itself. It raises fundamental questions about the health of internal party democracy in Nigeria and the extent to which political parties are willing to respect their members’ will. If democracy is to have meaning beyond rhetoric, it must begin within the political parties that seek to govern society. The right of citizens to participate cannot be celebrated during general elections and suppressed during party primaries.
Ultimately, democracy without citizens is a contradiction in terms. It is an empty shell, retaining the form of democracy while abandoning its substance. The strength of any democratic system lies not in the power of a few political actors but in the collective voice of the many. Whenever that voice is silenced, democracy is diminished. The events in Idemili should therefore serve as a cautionary tale. Political parties must choose whether they wish to remain democratic institutions or become exclusive clubs controlled by a handful of power brokers. The future of democratic governance depends on that choice.
***Tony Onyima, PhD, a former managing director/Editor-in-chief of The Sun, teaches at Paul University, Awka.
A.I
June 3, 2026
Tags: Tony Onyima