2027 elections

By Haladu Muhammad 

As a young Nigerian from the North-East, one issue that has deeply concerned me for over a decade is the widespread apathy among our youth toward the electoral process. When you engage young people from my region or across the country, many express scepticism, asking, “Why should I vote when votes aren’t counted? Why bother standing under the sun?”

They seem to forget the fundamental definition of democracy. As Abraham Lincoln famously stated, democracy is “government of the people, by the people, for the people.” It is anchored in the rule of law and guarantees us the freedom and civic right to cast our ballots, oversee the counting process, and await the legitimate results.

It saddens me that many young citizens overlook the power of their vote. They abandon their civic duty, claiming that enduring the elements to vote is pointless. My key message to everyone is simple: believe in the power of your participation.

Consider recent gubernatorial elections, such as the one in Osun State. When citizens turned out in large numbers, stood patiently in line despite the rain or heat, and ensured their votes were counted transparently, it proved that the system can work. Similarly, when voters in Zamfara State stood firm behind their preferred candidate in the 2023 election, their votes were reflected in the final outcome. 

If all Nigerians emulate this level of dedication, we can drive meaningful change across the nation.

This is why I continuously advocate for young Nigerians, especially those in the North, to register for and secure their Permanent Voter’s Cards (PVCs). As we approach the 2027 general elections, we must prepare to participate fully. You cannot sit comfortably at home, voice your preference for leadership, and yet refuse to engage in the democratic process required to elect them. Expecting change without participation is a major contradiction.

Consider this a wake-up call. To those who already hold a PVC, treat it as a vital instrument for your future. Your PVC acts like a master key or a bank card—it grants you the authority to elect leaders who align with your vision and vote out those who fail to deliver. It is a powerful tool for self-determination for every Nigerian.

I urge our youth to mobilise, ensure their voter registration is up to date, and prepare to vote in massive numbers in 2027. Let us use our collective voice to shape the future of our nation.

Haladu Muhammad is a Concerned Citizen of Nigeria. He wrote from Maiduguri.

By Sulaiman Maijama’a

He served a single tenure and was chased out of the corridors of power, and later had the fortune of being smuggled by a cabal after waiting for a good 8 years. When he was announced as the flagbearer of their party, he doubted himself, woke up in the middle of the night and sat on a sofa, talking to himself. Let us peer into his mind and bring out what he is saying to the world.

What is the motive behind bringing me back? When I served my first tenure as a governor, these people ganged up against my reelection and chased me away and ever since I left, I distanced myself from anything to do with the state. I jettisoned party affairs, didn’t honour wedding invitations, didn’t pay homage or send goodwill messages during festivities,  refused to ever pay condolences, refused to make donations for public and private projects. I created both social and physical distancing by relocating to Abuja and abandoning all my people in Bakesu State. Why would these people nominate me? Do they really mean well?

But I am said to be the luckiest politician this country ever produced. I was born in Alfawa State, attended primary school in Babaldu State, and did my secondary school in Dadin Kowa State. When my father was posted to Bakeso State, we lived comfortably enough that I claimed indigene status, rose through the ranks in the civil service, ventured into politics, and miraculously became the state governor. But what did I do when I had the chance?

According to what people are saying on social media, I did not execute physical projects which I can now show to convince people to elect me. But when I was rounding up my first term, I gathered a lot of money, which I intended to use to execute the projects in my second tenure, but they unfortunately elected me out. I left the state treasury with billions of naira, and I suspect it is the money this governor has used to achieve all this development people applaud him for in the state. Why don’t I say I’m the one who gathered the money for him and claim a share of the credit?

My social media handles keep popping up with posts from haters of my return, reminding people of the verification exercises we did when we were in power. I even saw one post saying that in the cemetery there is a section of pensioners who died of hunger during our verifications. But we did that in good faith, and who will die before their appointed time? I think this can be a question of faith!

But wait, how many people did I fight with when I was in power whom I am still at loggerheads with? Traditional title holders accused me of not giving them the respect and resources they deserve. Now, this wicked governor fueled our estranged relationship with them because he built them beautiful palaces and pooled resources they never requested. But why would a lawyer of my standing, who knows very well that these people don’t have any constitutional role, deviate from due process?

My relationship with clergymen of both faiths was—and still is—not cordial. I thought their duty was only to preach to people to be righteous and serve God in order to go to paradise. But when I was in power, they asked to see me during every religious festivity, sent requests or proposals for donations or sponsorship of every religious activity. During fasting period, Sallah, Christmas and Maulud, they requested thousands of textiles, thousands of rams and cows and trailers of foodstuff to distribute to orphans. Whenever I turned down their request, they would quote me a verse in the Qur’an and the Bible, and accuse me of not helping religion. But I’m fasting every Monday and Thursday. Can this not take me to paradise?

Now, the poor say I have zero projects to show; traditional institutions throw questions of disrespect, and clergymen challenge my disregard for their institution. Despite all this, I want to return to this seat. 

What should I do?

Maijama’a wrote via sulaimanmaija@gmail.com.

By Sabiu Abdullahi

Former Vice-President Atiku Abubakar has raised concerns over an unauthorised payment made into one of his private bank accounts by an unidentified person.

Atiku, the presidential candidate of the African Democratic Congress (ADC), said the transaction was described as a “Contribution Electioneering Campaign” but was neither requested nor approved by him or his campaign organisation.

His Senior Special Assistant on Public Communication, Phrank Shaibu, disclosed this in a statement issued on Friday.

The statement described the circumstances surrounding the transaction as “deeply troubling” and questioned how an unknown person obtained details of an account whose information is not publicly available.

“The transfer originated from a person totally unknown to His Excellency,” the statement reads.

“Neither His Excellency nor his campaign solicited, authorised or has any knowledge of the individual or entity behind the unauthorised payment.”

Atiku questioned the source of the information used to make the payment, particularly because the affected account is a private one.

“The account is a strictly private one whose details are not in the public domain. This raises a fundamental question: How did unknown persons obtain the confidential banking details of a private citizen?” he asked.

‘NO NIGERIAN’S FINANCIAL PRIVACY IS SAFE’

The former vice-president said the incident raised concerns that could extend beyond his personal circumstances.

He argued that unauthorised access to the banking information of a former vice-president and presidential candidate could indicate a broader threat to the financial privacy of Nigerians.

“If the private banking information of a former Vice President and a leading presidential candidate can be accessed and deployed for reasons yet unknown, then no Nigerian’s financial privacy is safe,” he said.

Atiku also warned about the potential consequences if the information had been obtained through people with privileged access to banking records.

“If established, this would amount to a grave abuse of power capable of exposing the account holder to kidnappers, terrorists, bandits, fraudsters and other criminal elements,” the statement added.

The ADC presidential candidate linked the development to what he described as a series of “suspicious activities” ahead of the 2027 general election.

Despite the incident, Atiku said he would remain focused on his political objectives and would not allow the development to distract him.

“As political activities gather momentum, Nigerians should not be distracted by these tired tactics that smack of character assassination,” he added.

“Such desperate antics have failed before and will fail again. The Waziri Adamawa remains focused on offering Nigerians credible leadership and practical solutions to the nation’s challenges.”

By Uzair Adam

The Kano State Government has urged beneficiaries of its land allocation programme not to sell their plots, saying the allocations are intended to provide long-term security and wealth for families rather than short-term financial gain.

The call was made on Sunday during the presentation of land allocation documents to polling agents in Kano under the administration of Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf.

Governor Yusuf, in a speech delivered by the Commissioner for Public Procurement, Projects Monitoring and Evaluation, Nura Ma’aji Sumaila, said the land allocation programme was part of a broader policy to expand home ownership across the state.

He said the initiative would gradually be extended to more segments of society, including young people, women, civil servants, community leaders and other hardworking citizens, as part of efforts to reduce the housing deficit and improve family security.

The governor noted that beneficiaries had received plots in professionally planned government layouts equipped with road networks, drainage systems, schools, healthcare facilities, markets, places of worship, parks and other public infrastructure.

According to him, proper urban planning would make it easier for government to provide essential services while increasing the long-term value of the properties.

The Commissioner for Land and Physical Planning, Abduljabbar Muhammad Umar, urged beneficiaries not to dispose of their plots because of short-term financial needs.

“Please do not sell your land allocation because of short-term financial needs. Instead, develop it, build your home and create a lasting asset for your family,” Umar said.

He explained that the allocated plots were located within government-approved layouts designed to create organised, safe and sustainable communities where families could live, invest and prosper.

Umar contrasted the layouts with illegal land developments, popularly known as Awon Igiya, which he said had contributed to unplanned settlements, flooding, traffic congestion, insecurity, land disputes and slum conditions across parts of the state.

He said the government remained committed to ending illegal land development and restoring order to land administration across Kano State.

The Daily Reality recalls that the Kano State Government on Saturday commenced the distribution of land allocation documents to political appointees, including Senior Special Assistants, Senior Special Reporters, Special Assistants, Special Reporters and Personal Assistants. 

The government said the exercise, which concluded on Sunday with the presentation to polling agents, was expected to benefit about 2,500 beneficiaries as part of its broader effort to expand home ownership and reduce the state’s housing deficit.

By Muhammad Abubakar

Since I came to France for work, I have been extremely cautious about criticising Israel or Benjamin Netanyahu. Often, though wrongly, people conflate criticism of an entity or a person with criticism of an idea or of an entire ethnic or religious group.

Soon after Hamas’s attack on Israel on October 7, I felt driven to write about the unresolved conflict. It was difficult to ignore the subject. Yet I was also concerned that expressing my views might affect my employment or even my residency status in France. To be certain, I reached out to our Human Resources department for guidance.

We essentially agreed on an important distinction. Israel and Benjamin Netanyahu are not the same as the Jewish people or Judaism. One can criticise the policies of the Israeli government or the actions of its prime minister without expressing hostility towards Jews or the Jewish faith. The same principle applies elsewhere. A person may criticise Saudi Arabia or Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman without being an Islamophobe or an enemy of Islam.

This distinction is fundamental in any society that values free expression and intellectual honesty. Democracies depend on the ability of citizens to question governments, leaders and public figures. If every criticism of a political leader is interpreted as an attack on an entire religion or ethnic group, meaningful public debate becomes impossible.

I was reminded of this principle after listening to new songs released yesterday by the Nigerian political singer, Dauda Kahutu, popularly known as Rarara. The songs appear to criticise an opposition politician in Gombe State, Sheikh Ali Isa Ibrahim Pantami, who is also a respected Islamic scholar.

Unfortunately, I have seen some people make the same mistake that often appears in discussions about international politics. They have framed criticism of Pantami as though it were criticism of Islam itself.

Pantami does not represent Islam. He is a Muslim and an influential public figure, but he remains an individual whose political choices, public statements and actions are open to public scrutiny, just like those of any other politician. Defending him is entirely legitimate, but such a defence should be based on facts, evidence and reason rather than on the assumption that any criticism directed at him is an attack on the religion he professes.

By any definition, both the singer and the governorship candidate he appears to criticise in his songs are Muslims. Neither of them represents Islam. Their political disagreements should therefore remain political disagreements. Turning them into religious disputes serves neither truth nor the public interest.

This tendency to wrap political figures in the cloak of religion is dangerous. It discourages accountability and deepens unnecessary divisions within society. Once religion becomes a shield against legitimate criticism, it becomes difficult to separate public responsibility from personal belief.

Nigeria’s diversity demands greater care in the language we use. Political competition should not be transformed into religious confrontation. Citizens should be able to disagree with politicians, governors, ministers or scholars without being accused of attacking an entire faith.

The lesson is simple. We must distinguish between people and the principles they claim to represent, between governments and the nations they govern, and between political leaders and the religions they practise. Failing to make these distinctions only fuels misunderstanding and polarisation.

Criticise ideas. Debate policies. Defend people if you wish. But let us avoid presenting political disagreements as battles for religion. In the long run, both politics and religion are better served when we keep that distinction clear.

By Ibrahim Aliyu Gurin 

In Northern Nigeria’s political battlegrounds, the loudest attacks don’t always come from campaign podiums. Long before Facebook, TikTok and WhatsApp turned everyone into a publisher, Hausaland already had its own version of political messaging.

The maroƙi (praise-singer) was more than a singer. He was a storyteller, historian and public commentator. When a leader did well, he sang yabo, verses filled with praise and the same performer could just as easily turn that skill toward humiliation by mocking a rival’s failures, appearance, or character in verses crafted to stick in public memory, which is referred to as zambo. 

Zambo is a sharp, witty poetry designed to mock, embarrass or expose. It wasn’t always pleasant, but it was part of the culture; the difference today is that zambo has become a political business.

Instead of entertaining a local crowd, one song can now reach millions of people before sunset. A chorus recorded in Kano can be playing in Kaduna, Sokoto, Abuja and even among Hausa communities abroad within hours.

No one illustrates this better than Dauda Kahutu Rarara. Over the years, he has released songs like Hannun Karɓa, Masu Gudu Su Gudu, Baba Buhari Dodar, Jagaba Shi Ne Gaba and recently Malam Ya Yi Rawa. To his supporters, these are campaign anthems. To his critics, they are political attacks wrapped in catchy melodies. Whatever side you take, one thing is difficult to deny: people remember the songs long after they have forgotten the campaign speeches, and this alone says something about the power of music.

What makes today’s political songs different from the poetry of men like Sa’adu Zungur, Mudi Sipikin or Garba Affa is intention. Earlier political poetry was designed to awaken society, challenge injustice and educate the people. Much of today’s political music is driven by patronage. A politician hires a musician, the musician praises one side, ridicules the other, and the song becomes another campaign strategy.

Perhaps that is why political music now feels less like public service and more like political advertising. There is nothing wrong with musicians supporting politicians. Every artist has the right to hold political views. The concern begins when entertainment replaces truth, becomes more influential than verified facts, and insults travel farther than ideas.

Maybe the bigger question is not why politicians pay musicians. Maybe it is why we, the listeners, remember the insults more easily than the policies.

As another election season approaches, perhaps the challenge is to enjoy the music without allowing the chorus to become our ballot paper. After all, a hit song lasts only a few minutes, but the consequences of the leaders we choose can last for years.

Ibrahim Aliyu Gurin is a graduate of mass communication from Bayero University, Kano, and can be reached at ibrahimaliyu5023@gmail.com.

By Zayyad I. Muhammad 

One of the gubernatorial ambitions generating the most intense debate and public interest ahead of the Gombe State 2027 governorship race is that of Professor Isa Ali Ibrahim Pantami.

From the outset, Professor Pantami’s reported interest in contesting for the governorship attracted attention far beyond the borders of Gombe State. This is largely because he is not regarded as a conventional politician. Rather, he is an accomplished academic, Islamic scholar, technocrat, and former Minister of Communications and Digital Economy whose tenure earned him national recognition for driving Nigeria’s digital transformation.

Pantami’s potential candidacy appears to enjoy support from three distinct constituencies.

The first consists of those who genuinely believe he has something significant to offer the state. They draw inspiration from his performance as minister, citing his reforms in the digital economy, the expansion of broadband infrastructure, the growth of digital identity enrolment, and his emphasis on innovation, transparency, and public sector efficiency. To this group, his administrative record demonstrates that he possesses the competence and vision required to govern Gombe State.

The second group is found within the opposition in Gombe state, particularly elements of the PDP, who view Pantami as one of the few personalities with the political profile, credibility, and public appeal capable of mounting a serious challenge against the APC’s candidate-Dr. Jamilu Isiyaku Gwamna. Whether they support him or not, many acknowledge that his entry into the race would significantly alter the political equation.

The third constituency comprises sections of the religious community who see his ambition as an opportunity for one of their own to demonstrate how religious scholarship, intellectual depth, and public service can translate into effective democratic governance. For many within this group, his candidacy represents more than a political contest; it is an opportunity to test whether the values he has consistently preached can be successfully applied in elective office.

Like every major political figure, Pantami also faces opposition from different quarters.

The first group consists mainly of career politicians who believe he is entering a political space traditionally occupied by established political actors. To them, he is an outsider attempting to disrupt existing political calculations, alliances, and structures that have been built over many years.

Perhaps more surprisingly, the second group of opponents comes from within sections of his immediate religious constituency. Some clerics and religious associates reportedly believe that during his tenure as minister, he did not sufficiently carry them along or extend the expected level of inclusion and patronage. Consequently, while they may respect his scholarly credentials, they remain reluctant to support his political ambition.

Another dimension that has attracted considerable attention is the political dexterity with which Pantami secured the PDP gubernatorial ticket. The manner in which he navigated the party’s internal dynamics and emerged as its flagbearer suggests careful planning and strategic preparation rather than mere political ambition. His decision to align with the Nyesom Wike-led faction of the PDP, a bloc widely perceived in political circles as maintaining a cooperative relationship with the APC-led Federal Government, has further strengthened his political positioning. The goodwill and support he reportedly enjoys within that tendency of the PDP could prove to be a significant advantage as the campaign unfolds.

In addition, Pantami could benefit from protest votes originating from within the APC. Some influential APC stakeholders and their supporters who believe Governor Muhammadu Inuwa Yahaya has not done sufficient justice to their political aspirations or interests may choose to channel their dissatisfaction by supporting Pantami. While it remains to be seen how substantial such a shift could be, the possibility of cross-party protest votes is a factor that political observers cannot ignore.

Whichever way one chooses to examine it, Professor Isa Ali Ibrahim Pantami’s potential governorship candidacy is in a class of its own. What initially appeared to be little more than speculation or a distant aspiration has steadily evolved into one of the defining conversations in Gombe State politics. official campaign has yet to commence, but the discussions surrounding Pantami’s governorship ambition have already reshaped Gombe State’s political landscape, making him a force that political stakeholders can no longer afford to ignore.

The ultimate test, however, will not simply be the enthusiasm surrounding his candidacy but his ability to convert goodwill into an effective political structure, sustain broad-based alliances, and persuade the electorate that his administrative achievements at the federal level can be replicated in Gombe State. Regardless of the eventual outcome, Pantami has already ensured that the Gombe 2027 governorship contest will be one of the most closely watched political battles in the state’s history.

Zayyad I. Muhammad writes from Abuja via zaymohd@yahoo.com.

By Zayyad I. Muhammad 

President Asiwaju Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s decision to retain Vice President Kashim Shettima as his running mate for the 2027 presidential election is both a political and strategic calculation. Rather than introducing uncertainty into an already established political partnership, the President has chosen continuity, a decision that reflects the realities of Nigeria’s electoral politics, geopolitical balancing, and coalition-building.

Politics, particularly presidential politics in Nigeria, is rarely driven by sentiment. It is fundamentally about numbers, alliances, regional interests, and electoral strategy. Every major decision is weighed against one overriding objective: securing the broadest possible coalition needed to win an election. Viewed from that perspective, retaining Shettima was arguably the most pragmatic option available to the President.

One of the most immediate advantages of the decision is that it effectively closes the chapter on the controversy surrounding the Muslim-Muslim ticket. Ahead of the 2023 presidential election, the APC’s decision to field two Muslim candidates generated widespread debate, especially among many Christians who expressed concerns about religious inclusion and national balance.

However, after more than three years in office, that issue has largely lost its political intensity. While differing opinions remain, the fears that dominated public discourse during the 2023 campaign have, to a considerable extent, subsided. By retaining Shettima, President Tinubu has denied political opponents the opportunity to revive an issue whose electoral potency has significantly diminished.

Beyond the religious debate lies an even more delicate consideration: Nigeria’s geopolitical balance. Had President Tinubu replaced Shettima with another politician from the North-East, the North-West, the country’s largest voting bloc, could have interpreted the move as another instance in which its political aspirations were overlooked, potentially reigniting debates about equity and representation.

Conversely, choosing a replacement from the North-West would almost certainly have generated discontent in the North-East. Having produced the incumbent Vice President, the region would naturally expect to retain the position. Removing Shettima without any compelling political or governance justification could have alienated key stakeholders and weakened support in a region that remains strategically important to the APC.

Some time ago, a number of individuals campaigned for the selection of a northern Christian as the Vice President, arguing that a Muslim-Christian ticket would be more politically acceptable. While the proposal appealed to those seeking religious balancing, it overlooked the practical realities of Nigerian presidential elections.

For a southern Muslim presidential candidate seeking the presidency, pairing with a northern Christian is not necessarily the most pragmatic electoral formula if the objective is to maximise support across Northern Nigeria. Presidential elections are rarely won on symbolism alone. They are won through careful coalition-building, political structures, regional alliances, and voting strength. In Nigeria, electoral success is driven as much by geopolitical realities and numbers as it is by perception.

President Tinubu has built his political career on strategic calculation rather than emotional decision-making. Over several decades, he has demonstrated an ability to assemble winning political coalitions by focusing on electoral arithmetic, regional dynamics, and long-term political stability. His decision to retain Shettima is consistent with that political philosophy.

There is also the question of continuity. Since assuming office in 2023, Tinubu and Shettima have worked together to lead the administration, build relationships across government, and strengthen the APC’s political structures nationwide. Replacing a sitting Vice President without a compelling reason could have created unnecessary speculation about internal divisions and handed the opposition a fresh political narrative.

By retaining Shettima, President Tinubu has instead projected stability, confidence, and consistency. The decision preserves an established partnership, reassures party supporters, and allows the APC to approach the 2027 election with a united front.

Ultimately, successful presidential campaigns are built not on emotion but on careful political judgment. Difficult decisions are inevitable, but experienced politicians choose the option that minimises political risk while maximising electoral advantage.

Judged against Nigeria’s electoral realities, geopolitical sensitivities, and the imperative of preserving a broad national coalition, President Tinubu’s decision to retain Vice President Kashim Shettima was not only the least controversial choice,it was the most politically strategic.

Zayyad I. Muhammad writes Abuja via zaymohd@yahoo.com.

By Prince Daniel Aboki

Every Nigerian has the constitutional right to support any political party or candidate of their choice. That right is guaranteed by the Constitution and should always be respected.

However, an industry cannot thrive when, every election cycle, a few individuals position themselves as speaking on behalf of everyone, mobilising groups to endorse politicians and, in the process, reducing the industry’s engagement with government to the pursuit of personal benefits.

When this becomes the dominant culture, the industry risks not being taken seriously. Government and development partners are beginning to see the industry not as a strategic economic sector but as a collection of individuals seeking patronage every four years. More often than not, the distribution of cash gifts, vehicles, and other favours also creates avoidable divisions within the industry, as practitioners become aligned with competing political interests. Instead of fostering unity around the collective growth of Kannywood, election seasons too often leave the industry fragmented long after the campaigns have ended.

Politicians understand the influence that Kannywood celebrities command, particularly in Kano and across Northern Nigeria. They know these personalities can shape public opinion, mobilise supporters, and amplify campaign messages during elections. That influence is valuable, but it should be used as a bargaining tool to secure lasting benefits for the entire industry—not for personal aggrandisement. Our collective influence should translate into meaningful negotiations for better policies, sustainable funding, stronger institutions, improved infrastructure, and greater opportunities for everyone in Kannywood, rather than short-term personal gains for a few individuals.

Kannywood is far bigger than election campaigns. It is one of Northern Nigeria’s greatest cultural and economic assets. It has the capacity to create thousands of jobs, preserve and promote our culture, strengthen social values, attract tourism, earn foreign exchange, stimulate investment, and project Northern Nigeria to the world.

What makes this even more compelling is that Kannywood has already demonstrated its commercial strength. Some of its producers operate some of the biggest and most successful YouTube channels in Nigeria, attracting millions of views and building significant audiences worldwide. That success should not remain the achievement of a few individuals. It should be consolidated into an industry-wide strategy that creates opportunities for younger filmmakers, actors, writers, directors, editors, cinematographers, musicians, and other creative professionals.

This is the conversation we should be having with those in office and those seeking public office.

Rather than seeking cash gifts, vehicles, or personal favours, we should be demanding policies that strengthen the entire industry: film villages, production funds, affordable financing, stronger copyright protection, modern cinema infrastructure, professional training, international partnerships, tax incentives, and support for participation in global film markets and festivals. That is how enduring creative industries are built.

Over the years, Nollywood has increasingly engaged government and development partners on issues that strengthen the industry’s ecosystem. The conversation has largely centred on policy, investment, institutional support, skills development, financing, and international collaboration. Individual practitioners may support political candidates—as they are entitled to—but the industry’s long-term development has remained a central focus.

This does not mean Nollywood is a perfect congregation. There have also been individuals within Nollywood who have pursued personal interests above the collective interest of the industry. However, when the two industries are compared, Nollywood has, on balance, positioned itself more effectively as a strategic partner in industry development, policy engagement, and institutional growth. Kannywood can do the same.

We must stop approaching politicians with a cap in hand every election season. An industry with this much talent, influence, and economic potential should not present itself as a sector waiting for handouts. It should present itself as a partner in development—one capable of creating jobs, generating revenue, attracting investment, promoting tourism, preserving culture, and contributing meaningfully to the economy of Northern Nigeria.

Politicians will respect Kannywood when Kannywood first respects its own value. This is not a criticism of anyone’s constitutional right to participate in politics or support a candidate. Rather, it is a call for Kannywood to recognise its collective economic power and organise itself as an industry worthy of sustained investment, strategic partnerships, and long-term development.

The question should no longer be, “Who is giving us what?” The question should be, “What policies, investments, and partnerships will transform Kannywood into one of Africa’s most competitive creative industries?”

The future of Kannywood will not be determined by what a handful of individuals receive during an election season. It will be determined by what the entire industry builds together for generations to come.

The choice before us is simple: we can continue chasing political patronage every four years, or we can build an industry that creates wealth, creates jobs, attracts investment, shapes culture, and becomes impossible for governments and the rest of the world to ignore.

Prince Daniel is “A Concerned Citizen” and a filmmaker. He can be reached via blackvillemedia@gmail.com.

By Haroon Aremu 

In recent days, I have watched a growing wave of messages urging Nigerians to collect their Permanent Voter Cards (PVCs) before the deadline. Everywhere I turned, there were reminders, appeals, and passionate campaigns encouraging citizens to obtain their voter cards and prepare to vote. Some messages urged people to “vote out bad leaders,” while others called on Nigerians to “vote for change” and “take back their country.”

As I read these messages, I found myself reflecting deeply. Rather than joining the chorus immediately, I paused and asked a question that many of us seem reluctant to confront. What makes us so certain that the person we are urging people to vote for today will not become the same person we criticise, condemn, and perhaps even curse tomorrow?

This question is not intended to discourage voting, but is mainly directed to the youth rather than others. Democracy thrives when citizens participate. Every eligible Nigerian should obtain a PVC and exercise their constitutional right to vote. However, voting without deeper reflection may only lead us into a cycle we have repeated for decades.

The reality is that many of the leaders Nigerians complain about today were once celebrated as political messiahs. At one point or another, they were symbols of hope. They made promises that inspired confidence. They convinced millions that they possessed the solutions to the nation’s problems. Their supporters defended them passionately and often believed that once they assumed office, prosperity, security, and development would naturally follow.

Yet, as time passed, many of those same leaders became subjects of disappointment. The expectations that accompanied their emergence gradually gave way to frustration. Citizens who once praised them began to criticise them. 

This pattern raises an uncomfortable but necessary question. Is Nigeria’s problem merely about replacing one leader with another, or is it deeper than that?

Election seasons often resemble a search for a political saviour. Every cycle produces a new candidate who is presented as the answer to the nation’s challenges. Supporters speak about them with almost religious conviction. Opponents are dismissed, while supporters insist that their preferred candidate possesses the vision, courage, and competence needed to rescue the country. However, once the realities of governance emerge, many leaders themselves begin to admit that the challenges they inherited were greater than they anticipated.

How many times have Nigerians heard leaders say, “We didn’t know the situation was this bad”? How many administrations have entered office with grand promises only to later explain why those promises could not be fulfilled? If this pattern keeps repeating itself across different administrations, perhaps the issue is larger than individual politicians.

As an analyst of human behaviour and societal trends, I have come to believe that leadership is often a reflection of the society from which it emerges. We frequently focus on the leaders at the top while ignoring the conduct of the people at the bottom. We condemn corruption in high offices while celebrating dishonesty in everyday life. We criticise politicians for abusing power while remaining silent when similar abuses occur in our communities, workplaces, institutions, and associations.

The truth is that leadership challenges are visible at every level of society. From class captains in schools to community leaders, from local associations to religious organisations, from traditional institutions to political structures, the same tendencies recur. Favouritism, greed, selfishness, abuse of authority, and lack of accountability are not problems exclusive to national leaders. They are societal problems that manifest differently at different levels.

This observation reminds me of a profound principle found in both the Bible and the Qur’an. In the Qur’an, Surah Ar-Ra’d 13:11 states that Allah will not change the condition of a people until they change what is within themselves. Similarly, the Bible in Proverbs 29:2 says

When the righteous are in authority, the people rejoice: but when the wicked beareth rule, the people mourn.”

. These teachings suggest that national transformation is not solely dependent on political leadership. It is also connected to the values, character, and behaviour of citizens.

Perhaps this explains why changing leaders alone has not always produced the transformation Nigerians desire. A society cannot continuously reward negative values and expect positive outcomes from those it elects. If selfishness, dishonesty, and corruption become normalised among citizens, it becomes increasingly difficult to expect public officials to behave differently once they attain power.

This does not mean leaders are not important. Leadership matters. Policies matter. Governance matters. Elections matter. However, believing that a single individual can solve every national challenge may be one of the greatest misconceptions in modern politics.

 Some of the world’s most developed countries are struggling with challenges that cannot be solved overnight by a single leader.

Nigeria’s problems are complex. They require visionary leadership, yes, but they also require responsible citizenship, strong institutions, accountability, productivity, innovation, and a cultural shift in how people relate to one another and to the nation.

Therefore, while I fully support the call for Nigerians to obtain their PVCs, I believe the conversation should go beyond voting. The more important question is what happens after the election. Are we willing to demand integrity from ourselves as much as we demand it from politicians? Are we prepared to contribute positively to our communities, workplaces, and institutions?

Most importantly, before passionately campaigning for a candidate, perhaps each of us should ask a simple question: if this person eventually wins and fails to meet expectations, will I become one of those criticising them tomorrow?

If the answer is yes, then perhaps our focus should not be solely on changing leaders. Perhaps it should also be about changing ourselves.

Haroon Aremu Abiodun is a developmental journalist who writes from Abuja and can be reached via exponentumera@gmail.com.