By SHEDDY OZOENE
Every election season in Nigeria has traditionally been a time for persuasion. Political parties sell their programmes, candidates present their records and promises, and voters weigh their options. That civic tradition is now under threat. As the country moves towards the 2027 general elections, a darker pattern is emerging. Some politicians and their supporters, often protected by their closeness to power or influence, are increasingly suggesting that victory for their preferred candidates—usually candidates of the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC)—is non-negotiable and that those who stand in their way could face consequences.
When the discussion moves away from the APC, it often turns quickly to religion and identity. In some cases, it is accompanied by open threats of death, banishment or expulsion.
The pattern is becoming increasingly worrying. Ahead of the August 15 governorship election in Osun State, Senator Francis Fadahunsi (APC, Osun East), apparently speaking about the party’s chances, told his supporters that if they came across members of the Accord Party, which supported the incumbent Governor Ademola Adeleke, they should “kill them.”
His statement attracted widespread condemnation, a police summons, a lawsuit by the Osun State Attorney-General seeking to compel an investigation, and strong criticism from civil society groups. Whatever his explanation, such language has no place in an election in a country already troubled by political violence and mistrust.Then, on August 26, the chairman of Kuje Area Council in the Federal Capital Territory, Samuel Danjuma Shekwolo, an APC chieftain, reportedly warned residents that those who refused to support or vote for the party would be expelled from the area.
But the dangerous rhetoric is not coming from politicians alone. Some religious clerics have also entered the political arena with equally disturbing messages.In Katsina, Jameel Dan Ahlussunnah, a Muslim cleric and political aspirant, declared in a viral video that if elected governor, he would sack Christian civil servants and non-indigenes from the state civil service. He also said he would compel private employers, including banks, to do the same.
Earlier, Sheikh Sani Yahaya Jingir, speaking at a gathering in Kano attended by serving governors, including Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf, referred to Christians as infidels and called on Muslims to use their numerical strength to support Muslim-Muslim tickets ahead of the 2027 elections.
These statements cannot simply be dismissed as the excesses of political campaigns. They threaten basic constitutional rights, including the freedom to associate, freedom of conscience and the right to make political choices without fear. More importantly, they threaten Nigeria’s already fragile relationship among its many ethnic groups and religions.When a public official threatens to expel people because they voted the “wrong” way, or when a political aspirant promises to remove members of a religious minority from public and private employment, the line between political competition and a threat to people’s lives and livelihoods disappears. Nigerian voters are being told, in effect, that their votes are no longer simply an expression of political choice. They mere exercise of their choice could become a reason for violence, discrimination or exclusion.
The silence from Aso Rock and the security agencies has been disturbing. There has been no clear and strong condemnation from the Presidency of this growing pattern. Neither the Nigeria Police Force nor the Department of State Services has, in the cases cited above, publicly shown the kind of decisive action that would reassure Nigerians that threats of violence, expulsion and religious persecution will not be tolerated.This is despite calls from the National Human Rights Commission, the Christian Association of Nigeria, Cardinal John Onaiyekan and other civic voices for action against inflammatory statements.That a local government chairman in a diverse part of the nation’s capital could openly threaten residents with expulsion because of their political choice says a lot about the confidence of the speaker—and the disturbing sense that some politicians may feel protected from the consequences of their words.
Such silence creates a dangerous impression: that the instruments of state power may regard this kind of language as acceptable, or at least tolerable, when it appears to serve the interests of those in power.
That cannot be the standard in a democracy. The law cannot be applied selectively, depending on who made the threat or whose political interest the threat appears to serve. In a democracy, failure to act against dangerous speech can itself send a political message. The result is the gradual endangerment of the Nigerian voter.
When citizens begin to think not only about which candidate best represents their interests but also about which political choice will keep them safe in their homes, workplaces and communities, the ballot begins to lose its meaning. The drums of war—both literal and metaphorical—are already being heard and Nigeria has been through this ugly path before. Each time, the cost has been measured in lives lost, communities displaced and mistrust deepened. It should not be allowed to happen again.
The President and the security agencies must act when laws are broken. Civil society, traditional institutions and religious leaders must speak out. And ordinary citizens must refuse to be intimidated because the vote must not be surrendered to fear.If the drums of war are allowed to drown out the quieter and more accepted work of democratic persuasion, the casualties will not be limited to one political party, one ethnic group or one religion. They will include the very idea of Nigeria as a shared political community. That is a price no election is worth.
