Rotational Presidency: A fair deal or a limiting practice?
Rotational presidency was initially introduced in Nigeria as a way to foster national unity and ensure that every region feels represented in governance. Given the country’s complex ethnic, religious, and regional diversity, this practice emerged as a response to the historical grievances of marginalisation. Almost every region felt excluded from the corridors of power at […]
Rotational presidency was initially introduced in Nigeria as a way to foster national unity and ensure that every region feels represented in governance. Given the country’s complex ethnic, religious, and regional diversity, this practice emerged as a response to the historical grievances of marginalisation.
Almost every region felt excluded from the corridors of power at one point or another, which fuelled the demand for a fairer distribution of political leadership. This arrangement, often referred to as a “gentleman’s agreement,” became an informal convention within political parties and continues to influence how leaders emerge today.
However, with the benefit of hindsight, it is worth asking whether rotational presidency is the right way forward. While the intention behind it is noble, the policy has several drawbacks. At any point, some regions will inevitably feel politically disenfranchised, and this could reinforce divisions instead of reducing them. For example, if a highly qualified candidate from the southeast—let’s call him Mr A—is prepared to offer visionary leadership, but it happens to be the “turn” of the Northeast, Nigerians would be denied the chance to vote for the best candidate.
This arrangement restricts political competition and prioritizes regional rotation over competence. Rotational presidency can also limit the pool of talent available at any given time, forcing parties to select candidates based on geography rather than merit. It raises questions about whether Nigeria should continue with a practice that constrains its leadership choices.
Shouldn’t the focus be on selecting the most qualified and prepared candidate, regardless of tribe, region, or ethnicity? Rather than relying on rotation, political parties should embrace open competition that promotes meritocracy. This shift would allow Nigerians to choose leaders based on ability, vision, and commitment to national development, not just their regional affiliations.
Additionally, rotational presidency may create the illusion of stability without addressing the deeper issues of governance and political inclusivity. There are also other ways to improve the political landscape. For example, would a single-term presidency of five or six years provide the president with enough time to focus on governance without the distraction of re-election campaigns? A non-renewable term might even boost performance, as the president would be motivated to leave a positive legacy. This raises another important question: Can a rotational presidency truly guarantee political stability, or would good governance and accountability do a better job?
In conclusion, while the idea of rotational presidency may have served a purpose in Nigeria’s past, it might be time to reconsider whether it aligns with the nation’s long-term development goals. To move forward, we need to rethink how we select leaders, shifting from regional compromises to merit-based leadership. The future of Nigeria depends on choosing the best candidate, not the most regionally convenient one.
Ummu Khathum Abubakar can be reached [email protected]