By ABIMBOLA ADELAKUN
As economic hardship bites and the state fails to curtail the problem of insecurity, people rue their decision to vote for Bola Tinubu as president in 2023. This angst seems to be coming from every corner of the country; people frequently denounce this administration’s failure to provide relief from the years of deprivation. From the politicians who either lost out in the power game of the 2023 general election or were sidelined in the sharing of the spoils of office to Yoruba Nollywood, where actors such as Ebun Oloyede (aka Olaiya Igwe), Ibironke Ojo-Anthony (aka Ronke Oshodi Oke), Bukky Raji (Aminatu Papapa), and Ganiu Nafiu (Alapini) had publicly apologised for campaigning for Tinubu last elections, there seems to be a lot of regret being circulated.
The case of the Nollywood actors joining the lamentation chorus is interesting, as it is curious. For these Yoruba actors to publicly apologise for supporting a Yoruba politician without fear of pushback from fellow Yorubas who will expectedly be protective of their own, it must mean their lamentations resonate with a section of the populace. Was it not just a mere couple of years ago that anyone who was not seen supporting Tinubu’s presidential ambition was labelled with indecorous names? The hand of hardship must have descended on so many people that the tribal sentiment that drove the censure has given way to collective frustration and rage.
Yet, apart from satisfying the schadenfreude of folks (like me) who warned that Tinubu would be a monumental disaster if elected, does any good ever come out of people’s electoral regrets? The political coalition seeking to unseat Tinubu come 2027 alludes to voter regret as a factor that would drive their electoral success, but is it even worth capitalising on? Unfortunately, without serious polling and sensible statistical analysis, one cannot really determine the extent to which these supposed announcements of voter regret matter. Do voters regret their choices enough to defect from him, or are they merely expressing a momentary feeling that will dissipate in the face of other calculations?
While we do not have the figures to divine the true nature of the feelings, there is enough precedent to assert this: in Nigeria, no president ever wins or loses because of their administrative competence and performance quality. You win in spite of—never because of—what you do. Muhammadu Buhari, for instance, was booed and stoned at various times during his presidency, but that did not stop his party from winning those same states. The politics of religion and ethnicity, the driving ideologies of our democracy, are far too strong for the incompetence of a mediocre to matter.
Hardly anyone ever admits they overlook leadership performance in making their electoral choices. Yet, to borrow the insight of famous anthropologist Margaret Mead, “What people say, what people do, and what they say they do are entirely different things.” So, yes, while we make so much of leadership acumen in Nigeria, is it ever the primary driving motivation for our electoral decisions? People frequently allude to previous performance milestones in publicising their voting choices (and we saw much of that last election), but do they also not abjure all evidence that contradicts the ideal image they hold in their minds about their candidate? The truth is that a lot of people make their decisions based on the identity politics of religion and ethnicity; the supposed fact of performance merely provides a sturdy rational ground to justify their voting choices.
To admit that one’s electoral decisions are based on consideration of religion and ethnicity is to give oneself away as sentimental and even irrational. When such people put forward performance as a factor in their voting decisions, it is a logical and moralshield and not necessarily a deal breaker.