By
Nze David N. Ugwu
The Question Nigerians Never Stop Asking
Ask one hundred Nigerians on the street what the problem with Nigeria is, and sixty-five of them will answer “leadership” before you even finish the question. It is the country’s most repeated lament, the constant refrain in taxis, markets, classrooms, and television panels. Every era brings new faces but the same old failures. The deeper Nigerians look, the more they realize that almost every national disappointment—corruption, insecurity, unemployment, decaying infrastructure, ethnic tension—traces back to one thing: a chronic deficit of quality leadership.
Since independence in 1960, Nigeria has experimented with every conceivable form of rule—civilian, military, parliamentary, presidential—and yet none has produced the governance stability, vision, or discipline that could transform its immense potential into prosperity. The country is an enduring paradox: abundant human and natural resources coexisting with endemic poverty and mismanagement.
Why have Nigerian leaders failed so consistently? Is it because of how they emerge—through godfathers, ethnic arithmetic, or military coups rather than merit? Is it because they lack preparation, education, and moral grounding? Or is the system itself so corrupted that even good men become captives of bad institutions?
The answers lie deep within Nigeria’s political evolution and social fabric. Leadership failure here is not an accident of history; it is a predictable outcome of how the nation recruits, rewards, and remembers its leaders.
Understanding Leadership in the Nigerian Context
In classical political thought, leadership means vision, integrity, and the ability to mobilize people toward a collective good. But in Nigeria, leadership has often been reduced to the raw exercise of power. It is about control, patronage, and visibility rather than purpose, accountability, or sacrifice.
The average Nigerian leader, from the local government level to the presidency, is seen—and often sees himself—not as a servant of the people but as a “big man.” The political lexicon itself reinforces this: people “capture power,” “hold office,” and “share the national cake.” Power is a trophy to be possessed, not a trust to be administered.
This distortion has historical roots. Colonial rule accustomed Nigerians to authority that was distant, extractive, and unaccountable. The British governed indirectly through warrant chiefs and native authorities who ruled by decree, not consent. When independence came, the colonial machinery of domination remained intact—only the operators changed. Leadership continued to mean domination rather than representation.
After independence, the military entrenched this ethos even further. From 1966 to 1999, soldiers ruled Nigeria for nearly three decades. The barracks culture of obedience and command seeped into political life. Decision-making became top-down, debate was seen as insubordination, and power was centralized in the presidency.
These structural legacies created a leadership culture where power is personalized, accountability is optional, and followers are expected to obey rather than question. It is this mindset—rather than just corruption or incompetence—that continues to cripple Nigeria’s leadership class.
How Nigerian Leaders Emerge: A Flawed Recruitment Process
The roots of leadership failure are visible in how Nigerian leaders emerge. In a functional democracy, leadership is filtered through merit, vision, and the consent of the governed. In Nigeria, it is filtered through money, patronage, and manipulation.
From Colonialism to Coups
The colonial government empowered local elites who served British interests. At independence, these elites—mostly from regional political parties—were more preoccupied with ethnic dominance than nation-building. The 1960s First Republic collapsed under the weight of corruption, electoral malpractice, and ethnic rivalry, culminating in the first military coup of January 1966.
Major-General Johnson Aguiyi-Ironsi’s short-lived rule was followed by the emergence of Yakubu Gowon in July 1966. Gowon, only 31 at the time, became Head of State not through deliberate selection or public approval but by military consensus in a moment of crisis. His nine-year rule was defined by both reconstruction and waste. After the civil war (1967–70), Nigeria experienced unprecedented oil revenue, but instead of laying foundations for industrial growth, Gowon’s government embarked on extravagant spending. When he declared that Nigeria’s problem was not money but how to spend it, he reflected the leadership’s lack of fiscal foresight that would haunt the nation for decades.
The Civilian Interlude and Return of the Military
The 1979 transition produced President Shehu Shagari, whose emergence was shaped less by ideology than by elite compromise within the National Party of Nigeria (NPN). Shagari was a decent man but a weak leader. Surrounded by corrupt politicians and indecisive in the face of economic decline, his government was soon overwhelmed by graft and patronage. When Major-General Muhammadu Buhari overthrew him in December 1983, many Nigerians celebrated—mistaking another coup for deliverance.
Military Politicking and the Rise of the Godfather System
Buhari’s own regime (1983–85) demonstrated the dangers of authoritarian zeal without political sensitivity. His “War Against Indiscipline” had good intentions but was executed with arrogance and repression. He was ousted by General Ibrahim Babangida, who introduced an era of political manipulation dressed in the language of reform.
Babangida’s regime perfected what can be called “the culture of political deceit.” He annulled the June 12, 1993 election—the fairest in Nigeria’s history—thereby destroying public faith in transition programs. Under him, corruption became systemic; public contracts were inflated, and the military elite became multi-millionaires overnight.
By the time democracy returned in 1999, Nigeria’s leadership recruitment system had been thoroughly corrupted. Politics became a lucrative investment; the cost of running for office soared, and political godfathers emerged as power brokers.
Civilian Democracy and the New Old Order
The Fourth Republic, beginning in 1999 with Olusegun Obasanjo, was supposed to reset Nigeria’s leadership trajectory. Instead, it recycled many of the same habits. Obasanjo, a former military ruler turned civilian president, began with reformist energy—debt relief, anti-corruption drives, and economic restructuring. Yet by his second term, his reform momentum gave way to authoritarian impulses. His attempt at a third-term amendment in 2006 epitomized Nigeria’s recurring leadership flaw: the inability to let go of power.
Obasanjo’s successors—Umaru Musa Yar’Adua, Goodluck Jonathan, Muhammadu Buhari, and now Bola Ahmed Tinubu—each illustrate different facets of leadership dysfunction, from ill-health and indecision to corruption and ethnic partisanship.
The truth is simple: Nigeria does not produce leaders; it produces power holders. The process rewards cunning, not competence. Elections are wars of attrition fought with money, propaganda, and manipulation. By the time the victor emerges, he is already indebted to financiers, godfathers, and ethnic blocs. The idea of serving the nation becomes secondary.
The Problem of Preparation and Competence
Leadership is not an act of luck but a craft that requires preparation. No nation develops when its leaders arrive unprepared for the demands of modern governance. Unfortunately, Nigeria’s leaders have often come to power by accident or manipulation, not by vision or training.
Yakubu Gowon: The Unprepared Commander
Gowon’s youth and inexperience showed after the civil war. Though he kept Nigeria united, he failed to use the oil boom to industrialize the economy. Between 1970 and 1975, oil revenues multiplied, but agricultural production collapsed, and public projects were abandoned halfway. Gowon’s administration spent lavishly on imports and white-elephant projects instead of diversifying the economy. His lack of economic foresight laid the groundwork for the later debt crisis.
Shehu Shagari: Good Intentions, Weak Control
Shagari’s civilian government (1979–83) inherited a turbulent economy but lacked discipline. Ministers looted with impunity; political patronage determined appointments. Shagari himself was mild-mannered and indecisive—traits unsuited for a system riddled with corruption. The Green Revolution program failed because of bureaucratic waste and lack of monitoring. By 1983, Nigeria was back in recession, leading to his overthrow by the military.
Obasanjo: Reformist but Imperial
Obasanjo’s 1999–2007 presidency combined brilliance with arrogance. He initiated major reforms—telecommunications liberalization, banking consolidation, and debt relief. Yet his personal style alienated allies and undermined democratic institutions. His attempt to manipulate constitutional tenure limits damaged his legacy. Obasanjo was visionary but imperial, unable to institutionalize reforms beyond his personal control.
Babangida: The Architect of Cynicism
General Babangida’s structural adjustment policies (SAP) liberalized the economy but impoverished millions. His political engineering, with endless transition programs and manipulated elections, eroded national trust. The annulment of the 1993 election remains one of the most destructive acts in Nigeria’s political history. Babangida’s brilliance was undone by moral ambiguity.
Yar’Adua and Jonathan: The Era of Drift
President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua (2007–10) brought a gentler tone to governance but was fatally limited by ill-health. His presidency was largely immobilized by his long absences. His successor, Goodluck Jonathan, came to power with unprecedented goodwill but squandered it through indecisiveness and tolerance of corruption. The fuel subsidy scandal, oil theft, and insecurity under his administration exposed weak control and lack of strategic direction.
Buhari: The Promise That Faded
When Muhammadu Buhari returned to power in 2015, many Nigerians saw him as a messiah who would fight corruption and restore discipline. Instead, his government became a study in inertia. Key appointments were delayed for months; economic management was erratic; insecurity worsened. Buhari’s style—rigid, insular, and slow—proved ill-suited for a complex democracy. By the end of his eight-year rule, inflation, unemployment, and debt had all ballooned. The anti-corruption crusade turned selective, often targeting opponents while shielding allies.
Tinubu: The Continuity of Patronage
President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, inaugurated in 2023, inherited a fragile economy but has so far governed through political patronage and loyalty distribution. His “renewed hope” agenda has yet to translate into coherent governance. The removal of fuel subsidy—though economically rational—was executed without social cushioning, deepening hardship. Critics argue that Tinubu’s administration continues the transactional politics that brought him to power, privileging loyalty networks over technocratic competence.
From Gowon to Tinubu, one pattern persists: Nigeria’s leaders rarely prepare for office intellectually or institutionally. They ascend to power without policy blueprints, surrounded by sycophants rather than experts. The result is predictable confusion—bold slogans with no strategic depth.
The Culture of Leadership: Godfatherism and Clientelism
In Nigeria, leadership is rarely about competence—it is about connection. The pathway to power is littered with political godfathers, ethno-religious patronage, and transactional loyalties. It is a system where allegiance is bought, not earned, and where political morality is sacrificed for survival.
The Rise of Godfathers
From the First Republic to the Fourth, political godfathers have served as the real architects of power. In the 1950s, regional leaders like Ahmadu Bello, Obafemi Awolowo, and Nnamdi Azikiwe mobilized their people around ideology and identity. But by the 1990s and 2000s, this ideological structure gave way to pure patronage networks.
A godfather finances elections, mobilizes thugs, and manipulates electoral institutions. In return, he expects appointments, contracts, and immunity from scrutiny. Governors and ministers become indebted clients rather than independent leaders.
One of the clearest examples of this dynamic was in Anambra State, where in 2003, political godfather Chris Uba claimed he singlehandedly “installed” Governor Chris Ngige. When Ngige attempted to assert independence, Uba allegedly orchestrated his abduction. The episode symbolized Nigeria’s descent into political feudalism—leaders held hostage by their own benefactors.
National-Level Patronage
At the federal level, the same pattern prevails. Obasanjo’s administration was notorious for deploying patronage to control the ruling party, the PDP. Those who opposed his third-term ambition were politically isolated or investigated. Babangida and Abacha used similar tactics within the military—rewarding loyal officers with choice postings and oil allocations.
In the Fourth Republic, the party primary system became a marketplace. Delegates were bribed with dollars; political offices were auctioned to the highest bidder. By the time a leader assumes office, he is already compromised—indebted to financiers and constrained by deals that undermine governance.
Ethnic and Religious Clientelism
Nigeria’s federal character principle, designed to ensure inclusion, has been distorted into a quota system of mediocrity. Appointments are made not on merit but on ethnic balancing. Every regime feels compelled to reward “its people,” deepening division rather than unity.
Leaders often play the ethnic card to shield themselves from accountability. When criticized, they retreat to regional sentiment: “They are attacking our son.” Thus, governance becomes an ethnic project, and performance becomes secondary to identity politics.
This culture has eaten deep into the moral fabric of Nigerian politics. Leadership is not seen as a responsibility to the people but as a “turn” to eat. It is a culture that celebrates access to power rather than achievement in power.
Institutional and Systemic Constraints
Even when well-intentioned leaders emerge, Nigeria’s institutional weaknesses often neutralize their capacity to perform. Power is over-centralized in the federal government, while institutions that should provide checks and balances are either politicized or emasculated.
Over-centralization and Federal Dependence
Nigeria’s federalism is federal in name but unitary in practice. The federal government controls most revenues—especially from oil—and dictates the fiscal survival of states. This overcentralization breeds dependency. Governors spend more time lobbying Abuja than developing their local economies. The result is a leadership class that looks upward for allocation, not inward for innovation.
During Gowon’s post-war reconstruction, federal control of oil revenues created the template for this dependency. Successive regimes, from Obasanjo’s to Buhari’s, retained it because it consolidated power at the center. No president willingly devolves authority. The consequence is paralysis: when the center fails, the entire nation collapses.
The Bureaucratic Decay
The Nigerian civil service—once the envy of Africa—has become a shadow of its former self. The early post-independence service was professional, meritocratic, and guided by integrity. But from the 1980s onward, political interference eroded its autonomy. Recruitment became politicized, promotions were bought, and competence was sacrificed for loyalty.
Under Babangida and Abacha, the civil service became a patronage machine. The introduction of “ghost workers” and contract racketeering hollowed out the bureaucracy. By the time democracy returned in 1999, ministries had lost institutional memory. Obasanjo’s reform efforts in 2004 to professionalize the service achieved some gains, but subsequent administrations reversed much of that progress.
Erosion of Accountability Institutions
The anti-corruption agencies—EFCC, ICPC, and the Code of Conduct Bureau—are structurally weak and politically compromised. Under Obasanjo, the EFCC under Nuhu Ribadu made bold moves but was accused of selective prosecution. Under Jonathan, corruption became almost normalized, with few convictions despite massive scandals such as the fuel subsidy fraud of 2012. Under Buhari, the agencies were again politicized; opposition figures were often targeted while ruling-party members enjoyed immunity.
The judiciary, which should serve as the last line of defense, is underfunded, slow, and vulnerable to executive pressure. Court orders are routinely ignored. Even when judges make courageous rulings, political actors defy them with impunity.
The result is that institutions meant to constrain leadership excess instead enable it. Power is unrestrained, and accountability becomes an afterthought.
The Moral Crisis in Nigerian Leadership
At the heart of Nigeria’s leadership problem lies a moral crisis—a vacuum of values that transcends politics. Leadership has become transactional, driven by greed, entitlement, and impunity.
From Public Service to Private Gain
The early nationalists—Azikiwe, Awolowo, Bello, and Tafawa Balewa—though imperfect, were driven by a sense of mission. They saw leadership as service to history. Today’s political elite see it as business investment. Public office is no longer a call to serve but a ticket to wealth.
The figures are staggering. Between 2005 and 2019, Nigeria reportedly lost over $600 billion to corruption, according to Transparency International estimates. Under Jonathan’s administration, the 2012 fuel subsidy scam alone cost over ₦2.5 trillion—enough to fund multiple universities or hospitals. During Abacha’s rule, over $5 billion was stolen and later recovered from foreign accounts.
The tragedy is not only in the theft but in the absence of shame. Corruption no longer ends careers—it builds them. Looters reinvent themselves as philanthropists and are celebrated at chieftaincy ceremonies.
Religion as a Shield for Corruption
Religion, which should serve as a moral compass, has been weaponized. Politicians donate to churches and mosques to launder their image. Clerics bless them, and congregations cheer. The line between faith and fraud has blurred.
Buhari campaigned on integrity and piety, yet his administration witnessed rampant scandals—from the NDDC contract fraud to the Central Bank’s opaque forex policies. Tinubu’s rise to the presidency was accompanied by allegations of financial opacity, but these were dismissed as political talk. The culture of moral accountability has eroded.
The Collapse of Ethical Role Models
In societies that thrive, leaders model values that inspire citizens. In Nigeria, leadership models cynicism. When leaders cheat, lie, and steal without consequence, the public internalizes that behavior. Corruption then becomes not a deviation from the norm but the norm itself.
The result is moral inversion: honesty is mocked as foolishness, and integrity is seen as weakness. No democracy can survive that inversion of values.
Consequences of Leadership Failure
The failure of leadership is not an abstract problem—it has measurable, devastating effects on the nation’s life.
Economic Stagnation and Poverty
Despite decades of oil wealth, Nigeria remains one of the poorest countries on earth. The World Bank estimated in 2023 that over 70 million Nigerians live in extreme poverty, surviving on less than $2.15 per day. Unemployment, particularly among youths, exceeds 33 percent. Each year, hundreds of thousands of skilled Nigerians emigrate, fueling a brain drain that impoverishes the nation’s human capital.
These numbers are not accidents of fate—they are direct consequences of poor leadership. Mismanagement of oil revenues, neglect of infrastructure, and inconsistent economic policies have created a cycle of dependency and decay.
Insecurity and the Failure of the State
From Boko Haram in the northeast to bandits in the northwest and separatist violence in the southeast, Nigeria’s territorial integrity is under siege. The inability of successive governments to secure lives and property reflects leadership failure at every level—strategic, operational, and moral.
Under Jonathan, Boko Haram grew unchecked until it captured territories. Under Buhari, despite his military background, insecurity worsened and spread. Under Tinubu, the security architecture remains unchanged, while kidnapping has become a daily menace. When citizens live in fear, leadership has failed at its most basic duty.
Loss of Public Trust
The most dangerous consequence of leadership failure is the collapse of trust. Nigerians no longer believe in promises. Every regime begins with hope and ends with disillusionment. The result is civic withdrawal—citizens disengage, youth emigrate, and politics becomes the playground of the corrupt.
Democracy without trust is hollow. When citizens stop believing in the system, the nation’s moral contract disintegrates.
Root Causes: A Systemic Diagnosis
Having traced the trajectory from independence to the present, the roots of Nigeria’s leadership crisis can be distilled into four interlocking causes:
- Historical Legacy
Colonialism and military rule instilled an authoritarian political culture that prizes control over accountability. Leadership became synonymous with dominance, not dialogue.
- Institutional Weakness
Checks and balances are weak. The bureaucracy, judiciary, and anti-corruption agencies lack autonomy. This allows personal rule to thrive.
- Cultural Distortion
Ethnic politics, godfatherism, and a “sharing mentality” have turned leadership into a zero-sum game. Citizens view power as their group’s turn to benefit, not a platform for national service.
- Moral and Educational Decay
Leadership preparation is almost nonexistent. Schools and political parties do not groom leaders in ethics or policy. Meanwhile, corruption has eroded moral consciousness, creating a citizenry that tolerates mediocrity.
These causes form a vicious cycle: weak institutions produce corrupt leaders; corrupt leaders weaken institutions. The tragedy is self-reinforcing—but it is not irreversible.
The Structural Traps That Undermine Leadership
Beyond the personal inadequacies of individual leaders lies the deeper web of structural and institutional traps that have perpetuated leadership failure in Nigeria. These are the entrenched systems, incentives, and practices that make even the most well-intentioned leader stumble.
One such trap is the overcentralization of power. Since the military’s unification of governance structures in the 1970s, the Nigerian state has remained excessively centralized. Decisions on resource allocation, appointments, and development priorities are often made in Abuja, hundreds of miles from the communities they affect. This concentration of power breeds arrogance at the center and dependency at the periphery. Local governments have become glorified extensions of state governors, while governors themselves act as emperors of their domains. Leadership at all levels becomes about control, not service.
Another trap is the patronage-based political economy. Nigerian politics is expensive, and political office is treated as an investment to be recouped with profit. Campaign financing is often built on opaque donations, godfatherism, and transactional promises. Once in power, leaders are under pressure to “settle” supporters, distribute appointments, and protect sponsors — often at the expense of meritocracy or public interest. Leadership becomes a survival game within the elite, not a service to the people.
The absence of institutional memory is another chronic weakness. Every new administration behaves as if governance begins anew, discarding valuable policies and frameworks developed by predecessors. This has led to decades of waste, policy reversals, and discontinuities. Yar’Adua’s Seven-Point Agenda was abandoned after his death. Jonathan’s Transformation Agenda gave way to Buhari’s vague “Next Level” without evaluation. Tinubu’s “Renewed Hope” repeats many of the same promises with little structural reform. Leadership, in such a context, becomes an endless cycle of slogans, not sustained progress.
Cultural and Psychological Dimensions of the Crisis
Leadership failure in Nigeria cannot be separated from the culture that sustains it. The Nigerian elite culture often celebrates wealth, status, and power without asking the moral question of how they were obtained. A leader who builds roads or distributes cash handouts is hailed as a “performer,” even if he undermines institutions or subverts the law. The people’s tolerance of corruption and impunity has created a moral environment that rewards bad behavior.
Equally damaging is the psychology of dependency and fatalism. Many Nigerians have internalized the belief that government is a distant benefactor rather than a system they co-own and can hold accountable. When leaders fail, citizens lament but rarely organize sustained civic pressure for reform. This passivity has emboldened corrupt leaders who know that outrage will fade after a few news cycles.
Ethnic and religious loyalties further distort leadership accountability. Citizens often defend their ethnic or faith leaders even when they plunder the commonwealth. The “our turn to eat” mentality undermines meritocracy and deepens divisions. The result is a political environment where loyalty to tribe or faith outweighs loyalty to truth or competence.
In such a culture, even reform-minded leaders find themselves trapped. They must constantly navigate the expectations of “sharing the national cake,” satisfying ethno-political demands, and avoiding backlash from entrenched interests. Leadership becomes a balancing act between doing what is right and staying in power.
The Burden of Weak Institutions
The true test of leadership lies in the strength of the institutions that constrain and guide it. In Nigeria, institutions are weak by design — not accident. Successive leaders have personalized power rather than institutionalized governance. The civil service, once the pride of Africa in the 1960s and 1970s, has been politicized and demoralized. Appointments are made on the basis of loyalty rather than expertise, and policy execution has become hostage to political patronage.
The legislature, meant to be a check on executive excess, often functions as a rubber stamp for presidential whims. Lawmakers see oversight as an opportunity for rent-seeking rather than accountability. The judiciary, though constitutionally independent, suffers from underfunding, executive interference, and corruption. When courts are perceived as purchasable, justice becomes a commodity.
Without strong institutions, leadership becomes a matter of personal disposition — and personal disposition alone is too fragile a foundation for national transformation. Nigeria’s development experience underscores a simple truth: no nation develops beyond the quality of its institutions. Leadership failure persists because we have built a political system where institutions serve leaders, instead of leaders serving institutions.
Consequences of Leadership Failure
The consequences of leadership failure in Nigeria are visible in every sector. The economy remains fragile despite vast natural endowments. According to the National Bureau of Statistics, more than 63 percent of Nigerians are multidimensionally poor. Youth unemployment and underemployment exceed 40 percent. Infrastructure is decaying. Public universities are perennially shut due to strikes. Power generation struggles below 5,000 MW in a country of over 200 million people.
Insecurity has become an everyday reality — from Boko Haram in the northeast to banditry in the northwest, separatist agitations in the southeast, and communal conflicts in the Middle Belt. These are not just security challenges; they are symptoms of governance collapse. Citizens have lost faith in the state’s ability to protect them, leading to self-help, vigilantism, and deepening mistrust.
The moral cost is equally devastating. Corruption has been normalized. Public office is no longer a trust but a transaction. The young grow up believing that success comes from connection, not competence. This erosion of values has produced a generation that admires the corrupt but successful. Leadership failure, in the end, becomes self-replicating — producing followers who aspire to be the very leaders they criticize.
Charting a New Leadership Paradigm
Nigeria’s leadership crisis is not irreversible. History shows that nations can reinvent themselves through deliberate leadership reforms. What is required is a paradigm shift — from transactional to transformational leadership.
First, Nigeria must reform the process of leadership emergence. Political parties must become merit-based institutions, not private fiefdoms. Internal democracy, transparency in campaign financing, and ideological clarity should be mandatory. The Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) must be strengthened to guarantee credible elections where competence, not cash, determines victory.
Second, leadership education and grooming must become national priorities. No one should aspire to lead a complex country like Nigeria without grounding in governance, ethics, and statecraft. The National Institute for Policy and Strategic Studies (NIPSS) and similar institutions should be expanded and reformed to become true leadership nurseries, not mere ceremonial academies.
Third, Nigeria must rebuild its institutions to outlive individual leaders. Civil service reform, judicial independence, and legislative accountability are indispensable. Leaders should be judged not by how many roads they build, but by how much stronger the institutions become under their watch.
Fourth, there must be consequences for failure. A culture of impunity must give way to a culture of accountability. Anti-corruption agencies should be insulated from executive manipulation and empowered to prosecute even the highest officeholders. Justice must not only be done but be seen to be done.
Finally, citizens must reclaim ownership of governance. Leadership does not exist in isolation; it reflects the society from which it emerges. Nigerians must stop celebrating corrupt politicians and start rewarding integrity. Civic education, youth mobilization, and community organizing can create a new generation of citizens who demand and sustain good governance.
Lessons from Within and Beyond
There are precedents Nigeria can learn from. Ghana’s democratic consolidation after years of coups was built on institutional discipline, civic awakening, and credible elections. Rwanda’s post-genocide recovery underscores what disciplined leadership and strong institutions can achieve. Closer home, Lagos State under successive administrations since 1999 has shown that sustained leadership continuity anchored on planning can yield results, even within a flawed federation.
Nigeria’s own history also offers glimmers of hope. Gowon’s post-war reconstruction policies, though cut short, demonstrated what national vision could achieve. Yar’Adua’s adherence to the rule of law and his amnesty program for Niger Delta militants showed that calm, principled leadership can heal wounds. These examples, though brief, remind us that Nigeria’s tragedy is not the absence of good leaders, but the failure to sustain good leadership.
The Urgency of Leadership Renewal
Ask 100 Nigerians on the street what the problem with Nigeria is, and 65 will say “leadership” before you finish asking. They are right — but only partially. The deeper truth is that Nigeria’s leadership problem is also a followership problem, an institutional problem, and a cultural problem. Leadership failure is not an event; it is a system of habits built over decades.
Yet, no nation is condemned to perpetual failure. Leadership can be learned, reformed, and redefined. It begins with a moral awakening — the realization that power is a trust, not a trophy. Nigeria’s future depends not on the next election cycle, but on whether it can produce leaders who embody competence, character, and courage.
The time to rebuild that leadership culture is now. For too long, Nigeria has suffered the tyranny of small men in big offices. What it needs are big minds and clean hearts willing to serve with integrity, vision, and humility. Only then can the promise of the Nigerian nation — long deferred — finally be redeemed.
Nze David N. Ugwu is the Managing Consultant of Knowledge Research Consult. He could be reached at [email protected] or +2348037269333.
