The recent proposition by Dr. Abdullahi Umar Ganduje, the National Chairman of the All Progressives Congress (APC), suggesting that Nigeria could operate effectively as a one-party state, has ignited a storm of critical reflection. His remarks, reported in The Punch of May 10, 2025, followed the defection of three Kebbi senators from the opposition Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) to the APC.
Speaking with journalists after a meeting with President Bola Tinubu, Ganduje declared that “there is nothing wrong in Nigeria being a one-party state,” and while claiming that APC was not actively working towards such a system, he emphasized that if it reflected the wish of Nigerians, it would be welcomed.
This statement is not only misleading but rests on a troubling misreading of Nigeria’s political history, federal character, and democratic aspirations. In a country as diverse and historically volatile as Nigeria, the call for a one-party system is not just a fallacy but a political misjudgment that could erode what remains of the country’s fledgling democracy. The late Professor Peter Udofin once warned that Nigeria under a one-party system would become a “political abattoir”, meaning, it will lead to violent chaos. That stark imagery remains relevant today.
Historically, one-party states have either emerged in small, culturally homogeneous nations or in authoritarian regimes where dissent is suppressed and political opposition is criminalized. China, Cuba, North Korea, and the former Soviet Union are textbook examples. They offer no democratic guarantees, no real political competition, and certainly no mechanisms for peaceful political transition. For Ganduje to cite China, a tightly controlled autocracy with no tradition of liberal democracy, as an inspiration for Nigeria is not only a misphilosophy but an affront to Nigeria’s democratic journey.
Nigeria’s socio-political configuration does not lend itself to such simplistic models. This is a nation of over 220 million people, speaking more than 500 languages, divided among numerous ethnic, religious, and cultural identities. From the 1920s, when Nigeria’s modern political party development began with Herbert Macaulay’s Nigerian National Democratic Party (NNDP), the country has thrived, albeit turbulently, on a culture of political plurality. Later, the formation of the NCNC, NPC, AG, NEPU, UMBC, BYM and others reflected regional, ideological, and social diversity. Political parties were never mere electoral machines. They were expressions of competing visions for Nigeria’s future.
The first military incursion into politics in 1966 attempted to suppress this political plurality by banning all existing parties and closing the political space. While some technocrats and “safe” politicians were retained as advisors, the democratic spirit was truncated. The Second Republic, which began in 1979, revived multiparty democracy. Parties like the NPN, UPN, GNPP, NPP, and PRP reinvigorated public discourse. However, the NPN, flush with federal power and patronage, gradually turned oppressive. The story of Alhaji Shugaba Darman, a prominent GNPP leader deported to Chad simply because he was a political threat in Borno State, remains one of the darkest stains on that era. The unchecked abuse of power and the drive to crush opposition played no small part in inviting another military coup in 1983.
Attempting to learn from history, the Babangida administration introduced a structured two-party system: the NRC (center-right) and SDP (center-left). This was meant to encourage ideological alignment and national unity. For a brief period, it seemed Nigeria had found a workable formula. The 1993 presidential election, won by MKO Abiola under the SDP, promised a democratic breakthrough as Nigerians did not care MKO and his running mate were both Muslims. But its annulment proved otherwise. Abacha’s attempt to transition into a civilian president by orchestrating all five registered political parties to adopt him as sole candidate was a sham. The nation was saved only by God intervention by way of Abacha’s sudden death.
Nigeria returned to multiparty democracy in 1999. But the proliferation of political parties, some without offices, manifestos, or any ideological foundation, undermined the quality of political engagement. These so-called “briefcase parties” became platforms for personal ambition and ethnic bargaining. Still, the answer has never been to eliminate political diversity, but to regulate it more meaningfully. Although there was attempt at strengthening the party registration process by INEC in 2020, political actors have continued to exploit the system for opportunistic gains.
In the last one year alone, Nigeria’s political space has been convulsed by relentless defections to the APC. These are not genuine ideological conversions but rather symptoms of systemic rot. It is loyalty bought with promises of immunity from prosecution, contracts, and political relevance and appointments. Political actors, fearing irrelevance or retribution, are only flocking to the ruling party not because APC has superior ideas or governance track record, but because it wields political power. Against this backdrop, Ganduje’s call for a one-party state is disingenuous. It is an attempt to cloak naked political conquest in democratic clothing.
As a seasoned administrator with a PhD in Public Administration, Ganduje should understand that true governance thrives not in echo chambers, but through rigorous checks and balances. His argument that “too many political parties spoil governance” is a fallacy that confuses quantity with quality. If political pluralism is poorly managed, the solution is to reform the laws governing party registration, not to shut the democratic door altogether. Indeed, our current Constitution guarantees freedom of association and expression. Dismantling the multiparty system would undermine the very framework of our republic.
Moreover, Ganduje’s statements betray a dangerous misunderstanding of governance itself. Is Nigeria a democracy or not? If we are, then we must uphold the principles of pluralism, opposition, accountability, and peaceful alternation of power that define democracy. If our constitution is to mean anything, it must not be used as a tool for legitimizing tyranny. A one-party system, particularly in a nation as complex and mistrustful as Nigeria, would not bring peace. It would breed insurrection, alienation, and possibly lead us back to military rule.
The analogy with China is deeply flawed. China’s socio-political history, Confucian culture, and centralized system of governance bear no resemblance to Nigeria’s fragmented and decentralized reality. Moreover, China’s economic progress has come at the cost of political freedoms and human rights. Is that the trade-off Ganduje is prepared to offer Nigerians?
Nigeria has already walked dangerously close to authoritarianism. The ‘God Intervention’ theory, which has become Nigerians’ recurring hope for Divine intervention to thwart the ambitions of tyrannical rulers, has sadly become the default chorus on the lips of most Nigerians. It is time our leaders learned from history, rather than continue to repeat its darkest chapters.
Ganduje’s flirtation with a one-party state is not visionary. It is retrogressive. Nigeria’s democracy is far from perfect, but the answer lies in deepening its institutions, not hollowing them out. We must resist the seduction of absolute power and reaffirm our commitment to a vibrant, inclusive, and competitive political system. Anything less, and we risk turning Nigeria, not into a united nation, but into the political abattoir that Peter Udofin so described.
