Democracy Without Dividends: Are Nigerians Getting Value for Their Votes?
The elections for six Abuja area councils took place on Saturday, January 21, 2026, coinciding with by-elections in the Ahoada East II and Khana II state constituencies of Rivers State, along with the Kano Municipal and Ungogo constituencies in Kano State. Yet, reports of low voter turnouts rent the air. For many Nigerians, the act of voting has become a ritual of hope that rarely matures into the harvest of prosperity. After over 25 years of uninterrupted civilian rule, the dividends of democracy, a phrase often used by politicians, remain as elusive as a mirage for the average citizen. The year 2025 brought these frustrations to a boiling point. While the government rolled out the red carpet for ceremonial anniversaries, the people were tightening their belts against record-high inflation and a cost-of-living crisis that has made even basic survival a daily battle. This is the story of a nation at a crossroads, where the ballot box is increasingly seen not as a tool for change, but as a gateway to further disappointment.
The Empty Promise of the Ballot Box
On Thursday, June 12, 2025, the Federal Government officially marked Democracy Day with a series of high-profile events. The day was chosen to honor the memory of the 1993 elections, widely regarded as the freest and fairest in Nigeria’s history. However, for many watching the parades from their television screens, or through the windows of crowded buses they can barely afford, the celebration felt hollow.
A prominent civil society group said Nigeria’s democratic journey is currently confronted by systemic corruption, growing disillusionment, and the erosion of cultural values. The gap between the rulers and the ruled has never been wider. While President Bola Ahmed Tinubu used his Democracy Day broadcast to speak of “renewed hope” and economic revitalization, the reality on the ground tells a different story.
The “dividends” people expected, such as stable electricity, safe roads, quality healthcare, and affordable food, have been replaced by what experts call the “politics of hunger.” As noted in a recent study by the Scholarly Journal of Social Sciences Research, instead of sustainable welfare schemes, Nigerians are often met with “stomach infrastructure,” small, temporary handouts given by politicians during election cycles to buy loyalty, which vanish as soon as the polls close.
A young lady speaking during the AMAC election just held on Saturday in Abuja, said: “I would rather sell my vote and use the money to buy cold Maltina than stand under the sun. After everything, they won’t give me anything, and I’ll return home empty-handed.”
Former President Goodluck Jonathan, speaking at a democracy dialogue in September 2025, captured this sentiment perfectly: “Our people want to enjoy their freedoms. They want their votes to count… When leaders fail to meet these basic needs, the people become disillusioned.”
The Rising Cost of Participation
The question of whether Nigerians are getting value for their votes is increasingly answered by the declining number of people who show up to vote. Data from recent electoral cycles show a worrying trend: voter turnout is plummeting. In the 2023 general elections, only about 26.7% of registered voters actually cast a ballot. This means that a tiny fraction of the population is deciding the fate of over 200 million people.
Why are people staying home? The answer lies in a mixture of fear and futility. Reports from Yiaga Africa on the 2024 and early 2025 off-cycle elections highlight a “fragility” in the process. Vote-buying has become a brazen marketplace activity, with votes reportedly trading for anywhere between N5,000 and N20,000. For a citizen living in extreme poverty, that small sum of money is more tangible than the distant promise of a better school or a working hospital.
Furthermore, the “dividends” seem to be reserved for a specific class. As one academic paper on the Nigerian experience notes: “The term dividend of democracy is now understood… as the benefits of those in government, the politicians, and those who are close to them. It is no longer for the benefit of the masses.” This elite capture of democracy means that even when the economy grows on paper, as the World Bank projected a 4.1% growth rate for Nigeria in 2025, the wealth stays at the top. Meanwhile, food inflation has soared past 40%, pushing millions more into poverty.
The year 2025 was particularly harsh. Security challenges, including kidnappings and banditry in the Northwest and separatist tensions in the Southeast, have paralyzed agricultural productivity. When farmers cannot go to their fields for fear of their lives, the result is an empty bowl of Garri in the city.
Human rights groups like Human Rights Watch also noted a shrinking civic space. Instead of addressing the root causes of hunger and insecurity, there were reports of security forces disrupting peaceful protests and detaining journalists. This “creeping authoritarianism” makes the value of a vote feel even smaller. If you cannot speak up after your vote, does the vote truly give you power?
If democracy is to survive in Nigeria, it must move beyond the ballot box. Experts and civic leaders agree that the following reforms are urgent:
True Local Autonomy: Bringing governance closer to the people so they can see the direct impact of their taxes and votes.
Electoral Integrity: Making the process so transparent that “voter apathy” is replaced by “voter confidence.”
Accountability: Ensuring that “constituency projects” actually result in buildings and services, not just empty bank accounts for contractors.
As former President Olusegun Obasanjo recently remarked, “Any system, democratic or otherwise, will die if it does not deliver results.” For Nigeria, the clock is ticking. The 2027 elections are on the horizon, and President Tinubu has already signed the Electoral Act Amendment Bill 2026 into law. We must ensure that the next time a Nigerian stands in line to vote, they are investing in a future they can actually see and feel.