By Dr. Ezeh Emmanuel Ezeh
Nigeria’s democracy has never lacked political drama, and that drama has taken a rather dramatic turn in the last few days. At the centre is Section 225A, the clause that empowers INEC to deregister political parties that fail to win seats or meet administrative requirements. Justice Lifu's latest court judgment upholding this power has been celebrated in some quarters as a victory for electoral order, while opposition parties are deeply shaken, as lawfare has become a sword of Damocles hanging over their platforms.
But beneath the exhaustive reactions lies a deeper question about what we believe political parties are meant to be. The ruling may be legally sound, but it exposes a troublingly narrow view of political participation. A view in my humble opinion risks shrinking the country’s democratic imagination.
The Court’s logic is clear. The democratic cost is not. The court’s reasoning is straightforward: If a political party cannot win a single seat, maintain a functional secretariat, or comply with basic reporting rules, then it has not demonstrated the relevance required for continued existence. Aside, the fact that ADC has met all these criteria, but still marked for deregistration is worryingly distressing.
But democracy is not a marketplace where only profitable ventures deserve to survive. It is a system built on the messy, often inconvenient principle that voices, especially small or inconsequential ones all matter. And so, by tying a party’s survival to electoral victory, Section 225A effectively declares that political parties exist only to win elections.
That is a narrow definition devoid of intellectual depth or even minmal rigour of law, and calls into question the motives of the framers of that section. Political parties are not just election machines. A political party is not merely a vehicle for capturing power. It is a platform for ideas, a home for minority viewpoints, a training ground for future leaders, a space for policy experimentation, and a mechanism for holding government accountable, even without winning seats.
Opposition is not an enemy. A party without electoral success is not a failure. And a democracy without ideological diversity is not a democracy. This is the focus of my thesis. A viewpoint that must be rigorously interrogated.
How on earth could lawmakers pass such a narrowed ill-advised law? The simple answer is that those we send to National Assembly do not see their job beyond chasing Constituency Projects and competing with executive branch on how to loot our collective partrimony. That’s how they ended up trapping themselves with the 2026 ill-advised electoral act.
But, for supporters of the ruling party, APC, the argument is that Nigeria had too many parties, many of them inactive or unserious. They point to long ballot papers, logistical burdens, and the proliferation of “briefcase parties.” These concerns are real. I share these thoughts too. In fact, if you ask me, we don’t need more than three to five political parties at this point in our politico‑social development. But efficiency is not the highest democratic value. Pluralism is. A ballot that is too crowded is a small price to pay for a political system that allows new movements to emerge, dissenting voices to organize, and unconventional ideas to find expression.
Democracy is supposed to be noisy. A Constitution should protect the weak, not only the strong. What should be advocated is a system that distinguishes between regional parties and national parties based on established criteria. A regional party can still have active membership across other regions but may not be allowed to contest national elections. They play the role of institutional endorsers whose support and collaboration larger parties must seek at the centre.
Section 40 of the Nigerian Constitution guarantees freedom of association. Yet Section 225A, as currently interpreted, places a performance‑based condition on that freedom. It tells new parties: You may exist, but only if you win quickly.This is a standard that entrenches established parties and punishes emerging ones. It is the political equivalent of telling a child to walk before they are allowed to crawl.
The Real Question Nigerians Should Be Asking Is: What kind of democracy do we want? How on earth did we end up with this expensive Presidential System of Government? Nigeria must decide whether it wants a lean, efficient democracy with fewer parties and simpler ballots, or a plural, inclusive democracy where even unpopular or emerging ideas have room to grow.
The framers of Section 225A and Justice Lifu's court have chosen the former. But Nigerians must also be allowed to make their own choices, including choosing the latter. The deregistration of parties may tidy up the political landscape, but it also risks sterilizing it. A democracy that fears too many voices is a democracy that has forgotten its purpose.
But we must be very apprehensive knowing that the reason for all these is because APC is desperate to muscle their way through 2027, with or without any cloak of legitimacy.
Today, AA, ADC, AP, Accord Party and ZLP have suffered from this terrible law and its interpretation. In the coming days or weeks, NDC could be placed on the hangman’s gallows too. No opposition party is safe. None should be happy with Justice Lifu's Judgment. NDC got in through a court order and may likely be removed through another court order.
The sad implication is that the courts, now seemingly under the armpit of the executive, are not only deciding who wins elections, but also who even has the platform to contest.
I fear that 2027 may already be compromised, and there is an even deeper fear about whether we will safely get to 2027 at all.
