Introduction In Nigeria today, it has become painfully evident that education no longer pays. The irony is loud and clear: a person who has laboured through the grueling academic ladder – first degree, Master’s, and PhD – often finds themselves poorer than someone who sweeps office floors in other African countries. Across Africa and beyond, janitors and cleaners are treated with greater financial dignity than Nigerian scholars. This is not to smear the reputation of the janitors, or ridicule the honest cleaners; rather, it is to highlight the shameful undervaluing of academic excellence in Nigeria. When a PhD holder lives in debt, and a cleaner in South Africa, Kenya, or Ghana lives in dignity, something is tragically wrong with our system. It reveals, in the very depth, the misplacement of priorities in the country, and the endemic corruption that continues to perforate the socio-economic fabric of the Nigerian state. Table 1 and 2 below reveal frighteningly the dispar...
Nigeria’s political stage is a grand theatre, where actors masquerade as leaders, delivering performances tailored for applause rather than progress. Erving Goffman’s concept of Dramaturgy, otherwise called the Conman Theory—where individuals present themselves in ways designed to control and influence their audience—perfectly encapsulates the chameleonic nature of Nigerian politicians. They are not driven by ideological convictions or a deep-seated passion for national development; rather, they are political performers, switching costumes, adjusting scripts, and defecting from one party to another in pursuit of personal gain. The question remains: can Nigeria ever ascend beyond this charade, or are we doomed to a perpetual cycle of deceit?
The Art of Defection: Politics Without Conviction
In most thriving democracies, political parties are rooted in distinct ideologies—conservatism, liberalism, socialism—shaping policies and governance. In Nigeria, however, parties are mere vehicles for electoral success, without defining principles or lasting loyalties. Politicians jump ship at will, not because of policy disagreements but to secure personal advantages.
The political trajectory of former Vice President Atiku Abubakar has been a spectacle of shifting allegiances. From the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) to the All Progressives Congress (APC) and back to the PDP, Atiku’s movements reflect a broader pattern where self-interest trumps ideology. Similarly, ex-Governor Peter Obi’s defection from the All Progressives Grand Alliance (APGA) to the PDP, and eventually to the Labour Party, showcased a strategic recalibration aimed at maximizing electoral chances rather than fostering consistent governance principles.
However, unlike other politicians, Obi’s last campaign in the 2023 elections seemed to mirror a shift toward a stable ideology. The Nigerian youth, disillusioned by the traditional power blocs, found conviction in him, rallying behind a movement that represented integrity, competence, and a break from the past. If Obi had come to power, perhaps he could have laid the foundation for a new ideological approach to leadership—one rooted in service rather than self-interest. Yet, in a political landscape where defections and opportunism reign, this vision remains uncertain.
This political somersaulting breeds instability and weakens the democratic process. It sends a clear message to the electorate: political parties are not vehicles for national transformation but transient platforms for personal advancement.
The Tragedy of Leadership as Performance
In Goffman’s dramaturgical metaphor, politicians perform for their audience—the electorate—telling them what they want to hear, but behind the curtain, they pursue personal and sectional interests. This deception has dire consequences.
Take the case of former Governor Rochas Okorocha, who, after campaigning on the platform of free education and youth empowerment, left Imo State in shambles, riddled with unpaid salaries and abandoned projects. Reports detail the challenges faced by the state during his tenure. Or consider the APC’s promise of ‘Change’ in 2015—a rousing performance that captivated the audience but ultimately degenerated into economic hardship, insecurity, and infrastructural decay.
These actors do not lead with conviction; they rehearse lines, mimic concern, and exit the stage when their applause fades. And while they bow for the next performance, the people suffer—hunger intensifies, inflation skyrockets, and the nation remains in perpetual decline.
The Church and the Stage of Deception
Even the Christian Church is not left out of this drama. Church leadership, which should bring light to the Gentiles (Isaiah 49:6), be a role model, and exemplify the deeds of Christ and the virtues of truth, justice, and fairness, is now entangled in an even worse form of Dramaturgy. Its leaders don costumes reminiscent of Christ and the saints—not to preach salvation but to stage spiritually deceptive performances. They act out convincingly pious scripts with the precision of seasoned actors, manipulating the faith of their followers for personal gain, political influence, and social control.
This is perhaps the deadliest form of Dramaturgy. It not only leads the flock astray but also inspires and legitimizes the very deception among politicians and the electorate alike. When the church—the supposed moral compass of the nation—becomes a theater of illusions, where then shall truth be found? In this deadly mimicry, the boundary between sacred duty and theatrical pretence is blurred, leaving a nation further adrift.
A Nation Held Hostage by Political Theatre
The damage wrought by these political performers is immense. Their lack of ideology means policies are inconsistent, reforms are abandoned midway, and governance remains a revolving door of deception. Defections erode public trust, making governance transactional rather than transformative.
The only way forward is for Nigerian leaders to break free from this cycle and embody true statesmanship—one that transcends personal gain and is rooted in a commitment to national development. But this hope remains dim. The culture of political performance is deeply ingrained, and unless a new generation of leaders emerges with genuine conviction, the status quo may persist for decades.
The Curtain Falls, but the Show Must End
Nigeria stands at a precipice, watching as its leaders shuffle scripts and change costumes, acting out scenes that lead to nowhere. The audience—the people—have clapped long enough, sometimes out of hope, sometimes out of desperation. But for how long must we endure this tragic performance?
A nation cannot build its future on illusions. It cannot continue to mistake costumes for character, or applause for progress. The curtain must not merely fall—it must be torn down. For, if leadership remains a stage play, the people will forever be cast as mere spectators in their own story, powerless against the grand deception.
Nigeria does not need another act, another promise, another well-rehearsed campaign. It needs leaders who will step off the stage and walk among the people, shedding pretences, embracing true governance, and making decisions that transcend self-interest. Only then can this performance end, and a new reality begin. Until then, the tragedy persists, and the greatest applause may yet be reserved for those who finally dare to tell the truth.
OKOM, Emmanuel Njor (PhD)
You may also want to read ECCE HOMO (BEHOLD THE MAN): THE MIGHTIEST OF THEM ALL, where man's power to choose to serve the people or to serve their pockets is in their grasp.
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