Words That Kill Democracy

By Olusegun Adeniyi If citizens of France, Italy, Belgium, Indonesia and numerous countries across Europe, Asia and South America can be so burdened by the rising cost of living that they troop to the streets in protest, one can only imagine how Nigerians survive the level of deprivation we are experiencing today. Yet neither the people in power (whose minions are dashing out brand new SUVs for campaigns) nor those who seek to displace them are offering practical solutions to these existential challenges. All that we hear is “I will return fuel subsidy” which–even if true (and I doubt)–amounts to digging when already in a hole or “I will not take Nigeria back to Egypt on subsidy”, whatever that may mean. To compound the problem, the real quotable quotes that seem to be defining this season can be found in the threats of violence should results of the coming 2027 general election not conform to certain expectations. A state commissioner pledges to cut off the finger that thumbprints their ballot for candidates of a party different from the ruling one. One governor reminded Nigerians that ‘Operation Wetie’ (the political violence that engulfed the Western Region in the First Republic) was incubated in his state. Even when the Coordinating Minister for the Economy is confessing in London that most Nigerians now borrow money to eat, a state party chairman says that whoever stands in his way of manufacturing millions of votes for the incumbent president would have to contend with AK-47. And then an opposition politician charged Nigerians that “during the elections, whether I am alive or dead, go to the polling centres with your bottles and jerrycans of kerosene. Either they do what is right, or we all die there.” But perhaps the most egregious threat has come from Ovie Omo-Agege. In a viral video, the former Deputy Senate President told a political gathering in Delta State, “Anybody who rigs the election on that day, we will kill him!”, while promising “aura for aura.” Then came the most troubling line: “There’s no court this time. We’re going to fight.” Omo-Agege, who unfortunately has doubled down on his statement, is a lawyer by profession. His late father was an illustrious member of the Nigerian bench who became the longest serving Chief Judge of Delta State. Omo-Agege himself served eight years as a lawmaker in the Senate, rising to the position of Deputy Senate President. In that position, he chaired the Senate Committee on the Review of the Constitution and was the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC) governorship candidate in Delta State in 2023. He is now the Nigeria Democratic Congress (NDC) Senatorial Candidate for Delta Central. When a man of that standing says the courts are irrelevant and that violence will decide an election, it is no mere flourish. It is an invitation to anarchy, and it deserves to be taken seriously. Fairness requires acknowledging what Omo-Agege may be reacting to. Nigerians know the rot of election rigging: ballot-box snatching, doctored result sheets, bought officials and compromised tribunals. But the legitimacy of a grievance never licenses the remedy of murder. Nigeria’s electoral offences are defined by law and prosecuted in courts. Extrajudicial killing is not “self-defence of the ballot.” It is a crime. And then, who defines a rigger? The answer, in the Nigerian context, is whoever holds the machete, the gun or the loudest microphone. A candidate who cheerfully hands that authority to his supporters has handed them a licence to kill. And Omo-Agege knows, like all his fellow-politicians, that the victims of such madness would most likely be ordinary citizens, poor men and women who are mere foot soldiers for the real riggers with whom they (the Omo-Ageges of this world) may even be wining and dining. Meanwhile, it is impossible to discuss this threat without noting the history that should make Nigerians uneasy. On 18 April 2018, armed men entered the Senate chamber and carried off the mace, symbol of the legislature’s authority. Then Senate President, Dr Bukola Saraki, was being harangued by powerful interests within the ruling party of which he was also a member at the time. The Senate blamed Omo-Agege, who was serving a suspension, for the violence. The House of Representatives also endorsed the recommendations of a joint ad hoc committee of the National Assembly, which approved the suspension of Omo-Agege for 180 legislative days. While Omo-Agege was invited by the police at the time and released, the court later voided his suspension. And he has consistently denied the allegations which remain unproven. Yet the episode matters for a different reason. It is a reminder of how easily the line between political contest and physical force can blur, and how institutions struggle to hold powerful figures to account when they choose to fight in the courts. A politician with that history owes the public particular care in his words. Instead, Omo-Agege has told Nigerians that jungle justice will follow should he be ‘rigged out’ of the senatorial election in January. It is noteworthy that until recently, Omo-Agege was the de facto APC leader in Delta State. When Governor Sheriff Oborevwori defected to the ruling party, the balance shifted. At the APC primaries in May this year, Omo-Agege lost the senatorial ticket to the incumbent Ede Dafinone. He left the party for the NDC, and has been campaigning ever since as a champion of “integrity” and “accountability.” Yes, politicians change parties, and no one should be denied the right to do so. But voters are entitled to ask whether his passion for clean elections is truly a principle or mere opportunism. Did the threat to rig-and-die emerge when the machinery was no longer in his hands? If rigging is an evil worth killing over, one wonders why the language of violence appeared only after Omo-Agege lost the ruling party’s ticket. Just in January 2025, Omo-Agege urged his supporters to dismiss the reports that he was contemplating leaving the APC. “Already, our dear President’s reform agenda for re-tooling Nigeria’s economy to a productive one is bearing fruits and the people are testifying to the renewed hope of all facets of the population,” Omo-Agege said at the time. “President Tinubu will not be deterred or distracted by reactionary forces determined to keep the people in perpetual penury.” None of these proves bad faith. But it invites the kind of scrutiny a candidate who wants to lead should welcome. For Omo-Agege, this is the time to withdraw his threat and invoke the Jonathan Goodluck Doctrine: Nobody’s ambition is worth the blood of any Nigerian. His half-hearted clarification will still be read by his supporters as a green light for murder. The best answer to rigging is a vote that is protected, counted and defended through lawful means: polling-unit agents, honest observers, transparent result transmission, and courts that decide cases without fear or favour. The people must understand that politicians who make these threats know where they meet to share our commonwealth and when the violence they invoke happens, neither they nor members of their families would be affected. We are all aware that killing during our elections has rarely been spontaneous. It tends to follow a script written at rallies, where politicians speak in coded or open language and young men with few prospects hear an instruction. Many of those young men end up bearing the cost: injured, jailed, or buried, while the politicians drive home to safety and the comfort of their heavily protected families. For those who can still remember, in the days leading to the Osun State gubernatorial election in August, the Nigeria Police Force (NPF) reported at least 30 politically motivated killings, with a serving Senator introducing a new refrain, ‘Pi pa ni o’ which literally translates into a license to kill political opponents. At the end, the re-elected Governor Ademola Adeleke may end up dancing ‘Skelewu’ with the same Senator as they jointly promote the incumbent president for the 2027 general election. Meanwhile, all the families that lost their loved ones to the election are bearing their cross alone. As I wrote after the election, Osun: The Cost of a ‘Rehearsal’ – THISDAYLIVE, the ballot box was invented so that the transfer of power could be settled by counting votes rather than breaking heads. “In Osun State, we ran both systems at once. We counted the votes and we broke the heads. Yet, until the political class can be persuaded that the first makes the second unnecessary, we are conducting a census of who is willing to die for other men’s ambition. And then holding a vote afterwards to make it official. A democracy that compels citizens to count the body bags after counting the votes is imperiled.” Democracy depends on a simple bargain: We may fight fiercely over who governs, but we must agree to settle the contest by votes and rules rather than force. A leader who tells his followers that “there’s no court this time” is proposing to tear up that bargain before a single ballot is cast. If rigging is the disease, violence is not the cure. It is another strain of the same illness. Nigerians have buried too many victims of election seasons to pretend otherwise. Suicide Inside A Police Station? Even for someone who has written extensively about the bizarre nature of crime and punishment in Nigeria, I have been more than shocked about how a man who allegedly stole plantain, perhaps out of hunger, ended up hanging himself in a police cell in Ipara, Remo North Local Government Area of Ogun State. “I find it difficult to understand how such a thing could happen,” Mrs Gift Joseph, mother of the victim said while recounting how she was told by the police that his only son allegedly committed suicide under their watch. Arrested on 17 October, the family of Peter Igbang, a 25-year-old farmer and former mechanic apprentice, were still in the dark about his whereabouts when they got a call that he was in police custody. Peter’s elder sister, Juliet, said that on the evening of Tuesday, 20th October, she got a call from a woman who visited Peter in detention and had been asked to help contact his family. When Juliet and her mother reached the station the next day from Lagos, an officer’s first words were: “I am sorry for your loss.” Bewildered, Juliet reportedly asked, “Loss? How?” The police then responded that his brother had hung himself. Let’s take the rest of the story from Juliet as reported by Vanguard newspaper: “I said I wanted to see the cell. Is there a rope there? What is inside that cell that he could use to hang himself? They said he used his own clothes. I asked, ‘But I thought when they arrest someone, they don’t allow them to go in with clothes except boxers. How come he was with his clothes?’ When they showed me a picture of him hanging on the window, he was wearing his full trousers. That means the boy was fully dressed. They took me to the cell. I saw a I asked what the bucket was doing inside the cell. They said it is normally in the bathroom beside the cell.” It is important to add here that custodial deaths, including through self-harm, are not uncommon, even in advanced societies. So, I am not disputing that Peter Igbang may have committed suicide inside his police cell. But considering how little premium police personnel place on people’s lives in our country, especially when they are poor, there is something about this particular tragedy that is quite disturbing. Besides, when someone dies in detention, you don’t casually tell members of their family, “sorry for your loss.” It is not only irresponsible but also unconscionable. Such callous disregard for human life by agents of the state is at the heart of the crisis of law enforcement in Nigeria. I hope the Inspector General of Police will order an investigation to unravel what exactly happened to Igbang while instituting the necessary reforms that will make his officers place a premium on every life, no matter their social status. • You can follow me on my X handle, @Olusegunverdict and onwww.olusegunadeniyi.com