By Hakeem Baba-Ahmed

IT is here. Many of us  anticipate that this year will be a watershed moment for their political ambitions, communities, or the country as a whole. Others approach it with great foreboding. Will it be the year we sink completely, or one in which we commence a re-floating process?

There is a huge part of the population that cannot be convinced that this will not just be a continuation of the last few years, or worse. They have no faith that those who designed the political process as a mechanism for positively changing lives had them in mind. Actually, except for the switching of calendars in 2023 AD is just 2022 plus a few more days.

Life is not easily divided into periods. But it does help to plan ahead, even if your plans are miles from what you intended them to be. Eight years ago, I was neck deep in plans and anticipation that we were on a trajectory to retrieve our country from the drift, waste, and incompetence of the Jonathan administration. Not even the worst enemy of Nigeria could have dared to locate the population where it is today.

By the time the elections were over with Buhari’s victory, we were gloating at a dubious US-origin report that predicted that Nigeria would break up in 2015. Unless a US Military Officer Training Institution had a combination of intelligence and technological capacities that could wind up a country of 200 million people, we felt we were too tough for doomsdayers. Eight years down the road, there are some who think the scenario-builders only got the date wrong, not the substance. 

Note: 2015.2023. Eight years with profound lessons in history. If our academics were not too busy scraping for a living, ASUU was not engaging in its annual muscle-flexing as education’s self-appointed lone hero, and chroniclers had not abandoned the invaluable task of capturing moments of great triumphs or failures, our libraries would be bursting with volumes on failures to exercise powers, the pivotal role of leaders in the lives of citizens, and the fallacy that pain and deprivation alone will make politicians and people wiser.

In eight years, we’ve experienced the good and the bad, and what do we have to show for it? We are retreating into ethnic and religious bunkers, led by Buhari’s contemporaries, who are, in many ways, integral parts of the past we love to lament. We seek to build a new house with broken blocks and rotten straws. 

Politicians and supporters will be justified in believing that this is an unfair assessment of the tasks at hand (though they will find solace in the fact that we must elect someone with all of their flaws). Not all of us can afford to be charitable, however. They should also raise their heads from the bitter civil wars and the bewildering array of crises in which they are involved.

Atiku and the PDP cannot appear to shake away the irritants in their ranks or whip them into line. They have multiple crises in many states that could do them serious damage. Their strategists are too preoccupied with unfolding scandals and ageing crises that have festered or matured under the Buhari administration to persuade the nation that the PDP, not Buhari’s party, should be given a chance to sort out the country.

Eight years is not long enough to erase a national memory of the record and performance of a PDP whose 16 years in power literally handed over the nation’s affairs to a candidate whose only credential was owning two houses, a few cows, and his personal ambition to be President. 

Buhari and Tinubu’s party’s heaviest burden is its inability to distance itself from its lamentable records in managing national security, the economy, and diversity. If Buhari had vowed to make sure that an APC party flag does not get anywhere near the Villa after May 28, 2023, he could not have designed a better strategy than dumping a whole set of fresh scandals and controversies weighing trillions of Naira on the nation and ruining his party’s chances of being trusted by Nigerians again.

You will not hear a single voice raised from an APC campaign team demanding a rigorous scrutiny of the scandals around the rebelling party legislators, the runaway insecurity in the South East, scandalous fuel queues, or any of the other issues that only a Buhari administration will roll out almost at will. It is difficult to roll out a new mat on muck and pretend that the visitor does not notice.

A strategy that completely ignores APC’s dismal record could work if the party does not have to fight and win on many fronts: nagging questions about Tinubu’s physical and mental capacities; stubborn religion-based resistance, strong barricades in the South East, a seeming reluctance by President Buhari to lay the red carpet for Tinubu from the battle for the ticket to the Villa, APC governors looking around for more comfortable post-office life; and a campaign with an unhealthy reliance on Tinubu’s bullion vans. 

There are a few other parties that represent a glimmer of hope that we can relax the stranglehold of a ruling elite that has gradually degraded the quality of our democratic process. Peter Obi’s Labour Party would have made a greater impact if he had earlier charted a different course as a different politician and created greater distance from the titans that he is fighting today.

His hard-core fanatical followers believe more in miracles than in the routine trudging, hustling, and negotiating  for votes. His primary constituency is wrought with multiple cross-cutting political interests, and he is unable to resolve a primary contradiction: his presidency could end the Biafran cause, wiping out a lot of the beneficiaries of an idea whose essence can be found in every inch of Nigeria. 

His most formidable foe is the violence in the East, which feeds a sceptic nation that cannot understand why someone who wants to end Boko Haram, bandits, and crude oil thieves cannot persuade kinsmen to assist him by ending organised violence in the South and East. By far his biggest liability, though, is his supporters, many outside Nigeria, who insist that Obi can only lose a rigged election, and that there is hell to pay if he is not President in May, 2023.

Then there is Kwankwaso, a veteran, grassroots politician who has been unable to outgrow a fanatical following. He could have been the biggest beneficiary of mergers and alliances, but poor management of the volatile Kano politics and an exaggerated self-image always got in the way.

Kola Abiola is daily reminded of his father’s awesome political stature. Prince Adebayo will pick the trophy in a policy debate, but he has been dwarfed by the forces his ideas challenge.  It will be important for our mental health to see both opportunities and threats in 2023. The problem is that it has too many “ifs.” 

We could have an election if the government can improve electoral security. Millions may vote if government moves firmly against insecurity, particularly in the North West, South East, and pockets of the North East, South West, and North Central. INEC’ innovations will produce a credible result if they work. If the poverty of the people can be curbed, we can reduce the influence of money on choices.

If losers accept the results or resort to the courts, we could avoid post-election violence. If winners show humility and move quickly to prioritise inclusiveness, we could transit to peaceful new administrations,If law enforcement agencies do their jobs well, we can reduce friction. If the’ international community’ flexes its muscles, we can curb the excesses of politicians. If enough Nigerians recognise that 2023 is genuinely make-or-break for our democracy or even the survival of the country, we can survive as a nation.  Happy New Year.