Nigeria Is Sleepwalking Into a One-Party State

The All Progressives Congress (APC) is only two senators away from a two-thirds majority in the Senate. A number should send shivers down the spine of anyone who cares about Nigeria’s democracy.

In the past year, defections from the opposition have been so common they barely make the headlines anymore. Politicians cross the aisle in the morning and are welcomed with fanfare by the afternoon. What used to be a matter of political calculation has become almost routine. And with every defection, the possibility of a one-party Senate and by extension, a one-party state increases.

Yes, Nigeria has always had defections, coalitions, and shifting alliances. But the stakes are higher now. A two-thirds Senate majority gives the ruling party enormous constitutional power: the ability to amend laws, shape policy with little resistance, and pass controversial bills without meaningful debate.

In a legislature already dominated by indiscipline and weak deliberation, the absence of real opposition would reduce the Senate to a rubber stamp for the executive. Oversight would weaken. Accountability would suffer. And democracy would become a shell of itself.

In healthy democracies, parties are built on ideas. In Nigeria, party membership is not about ideology but about access and proximity to power. This has deep roots in our history. After independence, parties like the Action Group (AG), the Northern People’s Congress (NPC), and the NCNC were anchored on ethnic and regional interests, not broad national visions. That pattern still exists today: APC in the South West and parts of the North, PDP in the South South and South East, APGA in the South East, NNPP in Kano.

Campaigns are shaped less by policy debates and more by identity, sentiment, and political settlements. It’s why slogans like Emi Lokan (“It is my turn”) often have more electoral power than detailed manifestos.

The 1999 Constitution contains a loophole that enables this fluidity. Legislators can defect mid-term if their party experiences a “division,” a vague term politicians exploit at will. Governors, presidents, and their deputies face no restriction at all.

When all parties campaign on the same promises like jobs, security, and infrastructure, it costs a politician nothing to switch sides. They can always package the move to constituents as “joining the winning team” to deliver results, and most voters, weary of broken promises, will accept it.

One-party dominance is not new. Russia’s United Russia, China’s Communist Party, and Singapore’s People’s Action Party have all held power for decades. These countries have high Human Development Index scores. Russia at 0.832, China at 0.797, Singapore at 0.946, but their freedom scores are abysmal: 0.08, 0.04, and 0.34, respectively, on the Freedom of Expression Index.

They show that material gains can coexist with tightly controlled politics. But Nigeria’s danger is different: our politics is not held together by nationalism or ideology, but by ethnic division and transactional alliances. A one-party Nigeria could deepen the tribalistic divide rather than unify the country.

Nigeria’s democracy is only 26 years old. Many of our leaders grew up under military rule, where power was centralised and dissent was punished. If we allow one-party dominance now, we risk locking in authoritarian habits before democratic norms have the chance to mature.

Too often, the opposition does not offer much recourse or inspire hope; they are pale copies of the ruling party, offering the same promises with different colours on the campaign posters. Without strong, distinct competition, the APC has no real pressure to perform better.

If Nigerians want to avoid a one-party Senate, they must demand more: campaigns focused on real policies, not just ethnic loyalty, year-round accountability using tools like the Freedom of Information Act, and reforms like independent candidacy to break the monopoly of big party machines.

The road to the 2027 elections will decide whether Nigeria keeps its political diversity or trades it for the false efficiency of one-party control. Free and fair elections are the bare minimum. What we need is a genuine choice between parties offering different futures for the country.

A one-party Senate, or worse, a one-party state, would not just be another chapter in Nigerian politics. It would be a point of no return, a decision that could shape our freedoms, governance, and national unity for decades.

The warning signs are here.