by Mohammed Bello Doka
26 June, 2026.
The handwriting is on the wall, bold and unmistakable, yet Nigeria's opposition leaders seem determined to read it upside down. While the ruling All Progressives Congress consolidates its grip on power, the forces that should be mounting a credible challenge are locked in a death spiral of ego, defection, and legal confusion. The question is no longer whether the opposition can defeat the APC in 2027. The question is whether they can save themselves from irrelevance, or whether they will drag the hopes of 200 million Nigerians into the grave with them.
This is the stark reality that emerges from the twin judicial earthquakes that have recently shaken the African Democratic Congress and the Nigeria Democratic Congress. In one corner, a Federal High Court in Abuja ordered the immediate deregistration of the ADC and four other opposition parties for failing to meet constitutional electoral performance thresholds . In another, the Federal High Court in Lokoja nullified its earlier judgment that had ordered INEC to register the NDC, sending the fledgling party back to the drawing board . These are not mere legal technicalities. They are the building blocks of a slow, creeping march toward a one-party state, a nightmare that Nigerians have seen play out across the continent.
The tragedy is that the opposition has done more to help the ruling party than any court ruling ever could. Rather than uniting to face the monster, they are fighting each other with the kind of venom usually reserved for sworn enemies. The ADC's deregistration order was greeted with barely concealed glee by the NDC, which quickly condemned the ruling but could not hide its opportunistic relief . The NDC, after all, had just welcomed two of Nigeria's most high-profile political defectors into its fold, Peter Obi and Rabiu Kwankwaso, who had abandoned the ADC in dramatic fashion just weeks earlier . In their minds, the ADC's loss was their gain, a classic case of Nigerian political cannibalism dressed up as strategy.
But the celebration was short-lived. The Lokoja court's decision to overturn the NDC's registration exposed the brittle foundation upon which this new alliance was built. The court ruled that the earlier judgment had affected the rights of the Peace Movement Party, which was not joined in the suit despite claiming ownership of the logo used by the NDC. The message was clear: the same judicial sword that cuts down your rival today can slice through your own camp tomorrow.
The opposition's inability to see this basic truth is staggering. When the Supreme Court delivered a judgment that effectively decapitated the Peoples Democratic Party, leaving it without a recognised National Working Committee, both the ADC and the NDC failed to read the handwriting on the wall . Instead of rallying together, they continued their petty squabbles, each faction believing it could somehow emerge as the sole beneficiary of the PDP's implosion. They seem to have forgotten the basic rule of political physics: when the opposition divides, the ruling party multiplies its power.
The result is an opposition crippled in legal limbo. Rather than preparing for campaigns, building grassroots structures, and articulating a compelling alternative vision, Nigeria's opposition parties will spend the next several months in courtrooms, challenging judgments, filing appeals, and praying for judicial salvation. The ADC has already vowed to challenge its deregistration, insisting that the party will be on the ballot in 2027 . The NDC is fighting to restore its recognition. The PDP is scrambling to resolve its leadership crisis through yet another court intervention. This is not a strategy for victory. This is a recipe for self-destruction.
Contrast this chaos with what could have been. Imagine an opposition united under a single banner, pooling resources, expertise, and the collective frustration of millions of Nigerians. Imagine a single presidential candidate emerging from a transparent, consensus-driven process, not from the backroom deals and defection dramas that have become the hallmark of Nigerian politics. Such a force could have challenged the APC's dominance, offered a credible alternative, and given Nigerians a reason to believe in democracy again. Instead, we have a political landscape that resembles a battlefield where the generals spend more time fighting each other than the enemy at the gates.
The opposition leaders cannot claim ignorance of the dangers ahead. The warnings have been sounded by every major political commentator, every civil society organisation, and every ordinary Nigerian who fears the return of authoritarian rule . The Ibadan Declaration of April 2026, signed by 14 opposition parties, was supposed to be a turning point . It promised a single presidential candidate, a united front against the APC, and a defence of Nigeria's multi-party democracy. That declaration now lies in tatters, a testament to the triumph of ego over collective survival.
This raises the uncomfortable question that no one in the opposition wants to answer: are some of them secretly working for the ruling APC? It is not an accusation to be made lightly, but the evidence is circumstantially damning. The ADC's leadership, as the party's National Publicity Secretary Mallam Bolaji Abdullahi himself alleged, accused the ruling party of using the judiciary as an instrument to undermine the opposition . If that is true, then why are opposition figures so eager to hand the ruling party victory on a platter? The rapid defections, the refusal to compromise, the willingness to burn bridges for personal ambition, all of these behaviours benefit only one political force: the APC .
But perhaps the most baffling aspect of this self-destructive dance is the opposition's failure to study history. They have seen what happens in countries that slide into one-party states. They have watched as opposition figures are silenced, detained, or co-opted. They know that in a system without genuine political competition, the first victims are not the ordinary citizens, though they suffer the most, but the politicians who allowed themselves to be divided and conquered. The opposition leaders are not untouchable. They are not immune to the consequences of a crumbling democracy. When the rule of law is subverted and the political space is squeezed, no one is safe, not even those who thought they were on the winning side.
This is the crux of the matter. The opposition leaders are gambling with their own futures, not just the hopes of Nigerians. Whether they are working for the APC or simply working against each other, the outcome is the same: a weakened opposition, a ruling party that grows stronger by default, and a citizenry that loses faith in the entire democratic project. The court rulings on the ADC and NDC are not the end of the story. They are a warning shot. The real battle will be fought in the hearts and minds of Nigerians, who are watching closely to see if their leaders are worthy of their trust.
Will the opposition bury their ego or bury our hopes? That is the question that will define Nigeria's political future. If they choose ego, they will condemn themselves to irrelevance and the nation to a dark chapter of authoritarian consolidation. If they choose unity, they can still turn the tide, but time is running out. The 2027 elections are less than a year away. The deadlines for party primaries and candidate nominations are fast approaching. Every day wasted in courtrooms and factional battles is a day the APC uses to entrench its power. The opposition must decide, and they must decide now, whether they are fighting for power or fighting for Nigeria. Because if they fail, they will not just lose an election. They will lose the very democracy that gives them a voice, and they will be the first to feel the consequences. The monster is real. The monster is hungry. And the opposition is busy feeding it.
Mohammed Bello Doka can be reached via [email protected]
Abuja Network News
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