By Kayode Awojobi
In flourishing democracies around the world, the role of the opposition is not only constitutionally recognized but also socially respected. The opposition exists not just to challenge those in power, but to act as a necessary counterweight that keeps executive excesses in check, preserves civil liberties, and promotes democratic growth. Whether in the United Kingdom, where the institution of “His Majesty’s Loyal Opposition” is entrenched in parliamentary practice, or in the United States, where political rivalry between the Democratic and Republican parties serves as a dynamic instrument of checks and balances, opposition is vital to the sustenance of democracy.
These systems demonstrate that the quality of a country’s democracy is often reflected in the strength and voice of its opposition. Historical records bear witness to this. In the UK, the Labour Party, while in opposition, successfully agitated for reforms in healthcare, education, and workers’ welfare. In the US, the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964; a landmark legislation, was made possible by opposition not only across party lines but also within the ruling Democratic Party. These examples reveal that a principled opposition is not antagonistic by nature; rather, it is a driver of progress.
In contrast, Nigeria today presents a troubling picture. We are witnessing the weakening of one of the cornerstones of democracy: the opposition. Yet, this was not always so.
In the First Republic, Nigeria boasted one of the most ideologically driven and robust oppositions on the continent. Chief Obafemi Awolowo, leader of the Action Group and later the Unity Party of Nigeria, stands out as an iconic figure in this regard. Though he never held the office of president, his legacy as an opposition leader is undeniable. Awolowo treated opposition not as a political setback but as a democratic mandate. His time in opposition was characterized by deeply researched and eloquently articulated policy proposals that eventually reshaped governance, especially in the Western Region.
Under his leadership, the Western Region implemented landmark policies such as free primary education, rural development, and free healthcare. These initiatives did not remain regional; they reverberated across the nation and pressured other governments into adopting similar welfare programmes. Awolowo proved that opposition, when backed by vision and values, could transform society without necessarily occupying the central seat of power. In like manner, during the military era, despite repression, voices like Gani Fawehinmi, Beko Ransome-Kuti, and the National Democratic Coalition (NADECO) fearlessly confronted tyranny.
In the Fourth Republic, the emergence of the All Progressives Congress (APC) in 2013 was another defining moment. Formed as a merger of several opposition parties, the APC channeled the frustrations of the populace against the then-ruling People’s Democratic Party (PDP). Through strategic use of media, mass mobilization, and strong messaging against corruption and fuel subsidy mismanagement, the APC positioned itself as the voice of the people. In 2015, it achieved a democratic milestone by defeating a sitting president through the ballot—a first in Nigeria’s history. That electoral victory was not just a win for the APC, but a win for democratic opposition.
Ironically, the very party that rose to power by championing the ideals of resistance and reform has, since its ascension, failed to preserve those ideals. In power, the APC has become more known for suppressing dissent than encouraging debate. The opposition PDP, in turn, seems to have lost its moral compass and ideological focus, reduced now to a platform for political cross-carpeting and survivalist tendencies.
Political parties in Nigeria today appear less interested in nation-building and more in personal ambition. Ideologies have vanished. Party loyalty has become transactional. The rampant political defections among parties are symptomatic of a political class with little to no ideological convictions. Consequently, the country now resembles a one-party state, defined more by uniformity than diversity, and by silence rather than dissent.
The decline of opposition extends beyond politics. Key institutions that once functioned as checks on government excesses have been muted. The judiciary, often described as the last hope of the common man, has been widely perceived as politicized and, in some cases, compromised. Professional bodies like the Nigerian Bar Association, once vocal against military tyranny, now issue cautious statements or remain conspicuously silent.
Labour unions that historically could paralyze the country in defense of workers’ rights and the general public have also weakened. The Nigerian Labour Congress (NLC) and Trade Union Congress (TUC), once powerful, have lost the energy and unity that defined their resistance to oppressive policies, particularly in the early 2000s. Recent protests against subsidy removals have lacked coherence and resolve, a stark contrast to their past fervor.
Student activism—once a bastion of resistance—has equally suffered. Gone are the days when the National Association of Nigerian Students (NANS) led protests that shook the government. Under leaders like Segun Okeowo of the famed “Ali Must Go” protests, students were at the heart of national resistance. Today, NANS has become an appendage of the political class, a lobbying group more interested in affiliations than activism.
Even religious institutions, which once served as moral compasses, have grown quiet. In past decades, clerics boldly challenged tyranny and corruption. They mobilized not only prayers but protests. Now, many religious leaders seem to have traded moral clarity for political patronage. Their pulpits echo cautious sermons, avoiding uncomfortable truths.
In this vacuum, the responsibility of opposition now rests with the people—the ordinary Nigerian.
It is unfortunate when citizens are compelled to play the role of structured opposition. But it is also empowering. From social media commentary to grassroots organizing, many Nigerians are finding their voice again, albeit sporadically. This emerging civic consciousness must evolve into an organized, strategic, and peaceful movement of resistance and reform.
Democracy is not self-sustaining. It requires active engagement. Citizens must realize that opposition is not a political designation but a civic duty. Silence in the face of injustice is complicity. Apathy is a dangerous endorsement of tyranny. Every Nigerian must understand that the strength of a democracy is measured not just by elections, but by sustained civic vigilance.
To the political opposition parties: the call is clear. Rediscover your voice. Reconnect with the people. Articulate policies, not propaganda. Inspire hope, not hatred. Stop defecting. Start delivering.
To the labour unions, student leaders, and religious communities: reclaim your relevance. History will not remember your silence. It will remember your action—or your betrayal.
And to the Nigerian people: understand that in the absence of opposition parties, civil society becomes the last line of defense. Use your voice, your platforms, and your votes. Participate. Protest peacefully. Push back against bad governance. Be loud, be persistent, and above all, be principled.
We, the people, are now the only standing opposition in Nigeria. If we fail to rise, if we retreat into silence or hopelessness, we may soon find there is nothing left to oppose—only a nation in ruins, lamenting what could have been.
.Awojobi is a multiple award-winning Broadcast Journalist, Social and Political Commentator. He writes from Ago-Iwoye, Ogun State