Connect with us

Politics

#OpEd: Democracy In Africa And The Dangers Of A Judicial Selectorate, By Chidi Anselm Odinkalu

Published

on

The more election disputes end up in court, the more it becomes evident to politicians that it is easier to make deals with the judges.

 

​In March 2006, Uganda’s Supreme Court convened to begin adjudication of the disputes over the presidential election that occurred the previous month in the country. Voting took place on 23 February. Two days later, on 25 February, the Electoral Commission announced the results giving the incumbent, Yoweri Kaguta Museveni, 59.28% of the valid votes cast. In second place, with an award of 37.36% of the votes, the Commission announced Kiiza Besigye, a medical doctor whose military career began as part of the bush war that brought Museveni to power 20 years earlier in 1986.

​In his petition against the announced result, Col. Besigye argued that the Electoral Commission did not validly declare the results in accordance with the Constitution, and the Presidential Elections Act; and that the election was conducted in contravention of the provisions of both. His evidence was compelling.

​Yet, the impression that the petition process was a ritual performance with a predetermined outcome pervaded the process. Leading the legal team for the Electoral Commission of Uganda who were defendants in the petition was Lucian Tibaruha, Solicitor-General of Uganda. In reality, he also led the lawyers for the president, also a defendant alongside the Electoral Commission. Handling election petitions for a party political candidate was not supposed to be part of Lucian’s job,but there he was.

​Presiding was Bejamin Josses Odoki, Chief Justice of Uganda since 2001 and the author of the 1995 Constitution that incrementally made Museveni a life president. Idi Amin, Uganda’s infamous military dictator, elevated Odoki to the bench as a 35 year old in 1978. Amin’s nemesis, Museveni, elevated him to the Supreme Court eight years later and made him Chief Justice in 2001.

Announcing its reasoned judgment in January 2007, the court found that there had been non-compliance with the Constitution of Uganda and the applicable laws in the form of “disenfranchisement of voters by deleting their names from the voters register or denying them the right to vote” as well as “in the counting and tallying of results.”

The Court equally found as a fact that the “principle of free and fair elections was compromised by bribery and intimidation or violence in some areas of the country” and also that “the principles of equal suffrage, transparency of the vote, and secrecy of the ballot were undermined by multiple voting, and vote stuffing in some areas.”

​Despite these findings, Chief Justice Odoki and his court ruled by a majority of four votes to three of Justices of the Supreme Court of Uganda to uphold the election and grant President Museveni another five years in power. Two years after this decision, in 2009, when the Chief Justice’s son, Phillip Odoki, wedded, Museveni’s son, General Muhoozi Kainerugabawas the best man

In 2010, it emerged that Chief Justice Odoki never harboured any doubts about the outcome. Questioned about the role of judges in deciding elections in Africa, Odoki, “smiled when commenting that to nullify a presidential election would be suicidal.” He lived to see his peers in Kenya and Malawi do just that in 2017 and 2020 respectively. It proved not to be suicidal.

​According to former law teacher, Olu Adediran, the role of judges in these kinds of cases is in reality “a compromise between law and political expediency.” Jude Murison is more direct in calling it “judicial politics.” Judges are not instruments of change or revolution and when they are called upon to adjudicate between sides in a political dispute, they are more often than not likely to treat that not as an opportunity to change political paymasters except when the bell has already tolled undisputedly for an incumbent.

​Politicians are supposed to sell themselves to the people through their programmes and through campaigns in a contest of both ideas and vision. In return, the people through their votes offer endorsement to the politicians and programmes whom they believe best advance their interests. An electoral commission is a referee supposedly engaged and maintained at the public expense to administer this contest.

​This is where things begin to break down. Although engaged in the name of the people, every electoral commission is appointed by people in power who never wish to relinquish it. When a dispute emerges as to the kind of job done by the electoral commission, it ends up before judges. However, the same people who appoint the electoral commission also usually appoint the most senior judges into office. In the maelstrom of party political competition, guardrails break down as politicians struggle to casualise the popular electorate in order to prosper a judicial selectorate.

​The more election disputes end up in court, the more it becomes evident to politicians that it is easier to make deals with the judges. The people are and can be unpredictable, unlike most judges. Increasingly, therefore, politicians seek to judicialize the site of decision-making on elections, relocating that from the polling booth to the courtroom.

If a politician can get their spouse appointed to become a judge, they can even make the site of decision-making in elections more intimate, relocating it from the courtroom to the bedroom.

Instead of the usual soapbox, increasingly elections in many countries can be decided by good old pillow-talk. Former federal legislator, Adamu Bulkachuwa, whose wife, Zainab, headed Nigeria’s Court of Appeal for six years until 2020, published the manual on this model of electoral ascendancy in his parliamentary valedictory remarks as a senator in June 2023.

This is why the judicialization of politics in Africa increasingly represents a huge risk to the popular will as the basis of government. First, it vitiates the right to democratic participation and suppresses the popular will as the foundation for democratic legitimacy. Second, it enables the courts to deprive the people of their democratic rights, accomplishing that under the alluring pretence of rule of law. Third, it provides perverse incentives for politicians to capture the courts, making the judiciary in many African countries a battleground for the pre-determination of election outcomes. Fourth, it has the capacity to alter the character of the judiciary from an independent institution to a plaything of political insiders.

​This trend in consigning elections to the care of a judicial selectorate around Africa now endangers judges and their independence. In Malawi, in 2020, the president attempted to remove the Chief Justice in order to secure a Supreme Court panel more solicitous of his interests in the lead-up to a presidential re-run, following a rigged electoral contest that had been struck down by the courts.

The following year in September 2021, the ruling party in Zimbabwe pressured the Constitutional Court to overrule an earlier decision of the High Court that blocked an extension of the tenure of the Chief Justice after he had reached the official retirement age. This allowed the Chief Justice to still serve, but on a contract that made him more subject to presidential whim. Ahead of contentious national elections two years later, the same president decided to advance $400,000 to all serving judges in Zimbabwe in “housing loan” with no repayment obligations.One of the beneficiaries was the chair of the Zimbabwe Electoral Commission (ZEC), herself a serving judge.Unsurprisingly, she announced her benefactor, the incumbent president, as winner in the ensuing election.

​Even worse, this trend now also endangers entire countries, if not indeed regions. This was evident in April 2020, when Mali’s Constitutional Court overturned the results of 31 parliamentary seats won by the opposition. Its decision to hand these seats over to the ruling party sparked an uprising that led first to the dissolution of the Constitutional Court, and later the overthrow of the government in a military coup.

Mali’s twin crises of governmental legitimacy and state fragmentation is a tragic reminder of the dangers of judicial overreach in election adjudication. But the crisis in Mali has also become a regional crisis for West Africa. To adapt an expression familiar to new-age Pentecostals in West Africa: what judges cannot do does not exist.

A lawyer and a teacher, Odinkalu can be reached at chidi.odinkalu@tufts.edu

Politics

Ndigbo are no longer spectators in the Nigerian project- Minister Dave Umahi dismisses calls for Biafra under Tinubu’s administration

Published

on

 

The Minister of Works, David Umahi, says the all-inclusive style of governance being practiced by President Bola Tinubu has made the agitation for Biafra an unnecessary clamour.

While speaking at the inspection of the Enugu-Anambra road last Saturday, December 13, Umahi said the Tinubu administration had given Ndigbo what they had sought for decades, not through secession, but through what he described as unprecedented inclusion in national governance and development.

He explained that the agitation for Biafra was historically driven by neglect, exclusion and underrepresentation at the federal level, but insisted that the situation had changed under the current administration.

“When a people are fully integrated, respected and empowered within the structure of the nation, the dream they once chased through agitation has already been achieved through cooperation.

The push for Biafran secession over the years was borne out of neglect, exclusion and underrepresentation but today the narrative has changed dramatically under President Bola Tinubu.

The President has deliberately opened the doors of national development to the South-East. Appointments, policy inputs and infrastructure priorities now reflect true federal balance.

Every sector now bears visible Igbo footprints. The emergence of Igbo sons and daughters in strategic positions is a testament to this inclusion.

Biafra was never about breaking Nigeria; it was about being counted in Nigeria. Through inclusion, equity and concrete development, Ndigbo are no longer spectators in the Nigerian project; they are co-authors of its future. When justice finds a people, agitation loses its voice.”he said

Continue Reading

Politics

ADC Launches 90-Day Membership Drive, Fixes Dates For Congresses, National Convention

Published

on

The African Democratic Congress (ADC) has announced a 90-day nationwide membership mobilisation, revalidation, and registration exercise as part of preparations for its internal party activities ahead of 2026.

The party also approved provisional dates for its congresses and the election of delegates at the polling unit, ward, and local government levels across the country.

In circulars issued by its national secretary, Rauf Aregbesola, the ADC said the congresses are expected to hold between January 20 and January 27, 2026.

The process, the party said, will lead to the emergence of delegates who will participate in its non-elective national convention scheduled for February 2026 in Abuja.

A statement by Bolaji Abdullahi, national publicity secretary of the party, said the decisions were reached at a meeting of the national working committee (NWC) held on November 27, 2025.

Abdullahi said the timetable and activities were approved in line with the resolutions of the NWC and in accordance with relevant provisions of the party’s constitution.

The ADC said further details on the membership exercise, congresses, and convention will be communicated to party members and stakeholders in due course.

Continue Reading

Politics

INVESTIGATION: Why No Imo Governor Ever Controls Succession- The Untold Story

Published

on

Imo State’s inability to sustain political succession from one elected governor to another is not accidental. It is the consequence of recurring structural failures rooted in elite conspiracy, federal power realignments, internal party implosions, zoning sensitivities, and the perennial arrogance of incumbency. From Achike Udenwa to Ikedi Ohakim and Rochas Okorocha, each administration fell victim to a combination of these forces, leaving behind a state where power is never inherited, only contested.

Achike Udenwa’s experience remains the most instructive example of how federal might and elite scheming can dismantle a governor’s succession plan. Governing between 1999 and 2007 under the PDP, Udenwa assumed that the party’s national dominance would guarantee internal cohesion in Imo. Instead, his tenure coincided with one of the most vicious intra-party wars the state has ever witnessed.

The Imo PDP split into two irreconcilable blocs. On one side was Udenwa’s grassroots-driven Onongono Group, powered by loyalists such as Alex Obi and anchored on local structures. On the other was a formidable Abuja faction populated by heavyweight figures including Kema Chikwe, Ifeanyi Araraume, Hope Uzodimma, Tony Ezenna, and others with direct access to federal influence. This was not a clash of personalities alone; it was a struggle over who controlled the levers of power beyond Owerri.

The conflict worsened when Udenwa openly aligned with then Vice President Atiku Abubakar during his bitter feud with President Olusegun Obasanjo. That alignment proved politically fatal. Obasanjo, determined to weaken Atiku’s network nationwide, withdrew federal support from governors perceived as loyal to the vice president. In Imo, the effect was immediate and devastating.

Federal agencies, party organs, and influence channels tilted decisively toward the Kema Chikwe-led Abuja faction. Udenwa lost effective control of the PDP structure, security leverage, and strategic influence. His foot soldiers in the Onongono Group could mobilise locally, but they could not withstand a coordinated assault backed by the centre.

His preferred successor, Charles Ugwu, never gained political altitude. By the time succession became imminent, Udenwa was already a governor without power. Even his later recalculations failed to reverse the tide. The party had slipped beyond his grasp.

The eventual outcome was politically ironic. Ikedi Ohakim emerged governor, backed by forces aligned with the federal establishment, notably Maurice Iwu—his kinsman and then Chairman of the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC). Another Udenwa ally, Martin Agbaso, briefly tasted victory, only for his election to be cancelled. The lesson was brutal and unmistakable: without federal alignment, succession in Imo is almost impossible.

Notably, Udenwa’s record in office did not rescue him. Infrastructure development, relative stability, and administrative competence counted for little in the face of elite conspiracy operating simultaneously at state and federal levels. In Imo politics, performance is secondary to power alignment.

Ikedi Ohakim’s tenure presents a different dimension of failure. Unlike Udenwa, he never reached the point of succession planning. His administration was consumed by political survival. From 2007 to 2011, Ohakim governed amid persistent hostility from elites and a rapidly deteriorating public image.

Ohakim has consistently maintained that his downfall was orchestrated. Central to his claim is the allegation that he was blackmailed with a scandal involving the alleged assault of a Catholic priest, Reverend Father Eustace Eke. In a deeply religious state like Imo, the allegation was politically lethal.

Whether the claims were factual or exaggerated mattered less than their impact. The narrative overwhelmed governance, drowned out policy achievements, and turned public opinion sharply against him. Political elites who had midwifed his emergence quickly distanced themselves, sensing vulnerability.

By the 2011 election, Ohakim stood isolated. Party loyalty evaporated, elite cover disappeared, and voter sympathy collapsed. His re-election bid failed decisively. With that loss, any discussion of succession became irrelevant. His experience reinforces a core principle: a governor rejected by the electorate cannot dictate continuity.

*Uzodimma*

 

Rochas Okorocha’s rise in 2011 appeared to signal a break from Imo’s succession curse. Charismatic, populist, and financially powerful, he commanded party structures and grassroots loyalty. By his second term, he seemed politically unassailable.

Yet Okorocha committed the most consequential succession error in the state’s history. By attempting to impose his son-in-law, Uche Nwosu, as successor, he crossed from political strategy into dynastic ambition. That decision detonated his massive support base in the State overnight.

Imo’s political elites revolted almost unanimously. Party affiliation became secondary to a shared determination to stop what was widely perceived as an attempt to privatise public office. The revolt was elite-driven, strategic, and ruthless.

The zoning factor compounded the crisis. Okorocha hailed from Orlu zone; so did Nwosu. For many Imo voters, the prospect of Orlu retaining power through familial succession was unacceptable. What might have been tolerated as ambition became framed as entitlement.

This time, elite resistance aligned with popular sentiment. The electorate queued behind alternatives not necessarily out of conviction, but out of rejection. Crucially, Emeka Ihedioha emerged governor because Okorocha fatally miscalculated—splitting his base, provoking elite rebellion, and underestimating voter resentment. Okorocha’s formidable structure collapsed under internal rebellion and voter backlash, sealing his failure to produce a successor.

Hope Uzodimma’s current position must be assessed against this turbulent history. At present, the structural indicators are in his favour. He enjoys firm federal backing, controls the APC machinery in the state, and commands the support—or at least the compliance—of most major political elites.

Unlike Udenwa, Uzodimma is aligned with the centre. Unlike Ohakim, he has survived electoral tests. Unlike Okorocha, he has not openly flirted with dynastic politics. On the surface, the succession equation appears favorable.

*Udenwa*

 

However, Imo’s history cautions against certainty. Elite loyalty in the state is conditional and transactional. It endures only where interests are balanced, ambitions managed, and inclusion sustained. A wrong choice of successor could still provoke elite conspiracy, even if it emerges from within the ruling party.

The opposition remains weak and fragmented, with limited capacity to mobilize mass resistance. Yet voter apathy, now more pronounced than during the Udenwa and Okorocha eras, introduces a new risk. Disengaged electorates are unpredictable and often disruptive.

“Ohakim*

 

Ultimately, Uzodimma’s challenge is not opposition strength but elite psychology. Suppressed ambitions, if mishandled, can erupt. Succession in Imo has never been about coronation; it is about negotiation.

*Okorocha*

History is unforgiving to governors who confuse incumbency with ownership. Power in Imo is never transferred by decree. As 2027 approaches, the same forces that toppled past succession plans remain alive. Whether Uzodimma avoids their trap will depend not on power alone, but on restraint, balance, and political wisdom.

Continue Reading

Trending