Oath of allegiance and oath of office are the two declarations borrowed from the ancient Scottish oath-taking into the Nigerian constitution that swears-in every president, governor or council chairman into power in the country. Nonetheless, for any country to move forward; the leader must first imagine the nation’s future before it could be built. Where vision is clear, sacrifice can be justified; where vision is absent or narrow, even sacrifice becomes punishment. As Nigeria approaches 2027, the most visible and predictable national preoccupation appears to be one thing; the countdown to the 2027 General Elections. For a country of Nigeria’s size, history, talent, and strategic importance, this narrowing of imagination is troubling. Leadership is not defined merely by policy instruments, but by the breadth, coherence, and moral force of its vision. When vision shrinks, governance becomes mechanical; when governance becomes mechanical, people feel exploited rather than led.
Many working Nigerians already feel that a substantial portion of their income is absorbed directly and indirectly by local, state, and federal government obligations. Personal income taxes, consumption taxes, levies, tariffs, and fees accumulate in a way that makes the average citizen feel like a financier of a state that delivers too little in return. In Nigeria, many citizens struggle to identify tangible improvements that justify heavier fiscal burdens. Roads remain dilapidated, power supply unreliable, healthcare underfunded, and security fragile. When taxation becomes the clearest vision a government offers, it signals an inability or unwillingness to imagine development beyond revenue collection.
While Nigerians continue to innovate, hustle, and adapt, the Nigerian state appears to lag behind peer nations in translating potential into performance. Several African countries, even some with smaller populations and fewer natural resources have made notable gains in infrastructure, industrial policy, and global perception. Nigeria’s persistent underperformance suggests systemic failures in planning, execution, and accountability rather than a lack of talent or opportunity. Since 1967, Nigeria has been governed by a mix of military and civilian leaders, each inheriting the unresolved tensions of the civil war and the burdens of nation-building. From Yakubu Gowon through successive regimes to the present administration under Bola Ahmed Tinubu emerges a pattern of centralized power, elite bargaining, uneven development, and weak institutional accountability. Great leadership traditions embodied by figures such as Churchill, MacArthur, or even non-political icons like Beethoven and Lombardi were not defined by tribal loyalty but by clarity of mission, moral courage, and institutional legacy. Nigeria’s tragedy is not that it lacks capable people, but that its political culture often rewards survival over service and loyalty over competence.
A recurring belief among many Nigerians is that political power operates as an exclusive club, shielded from accountability and insulated from the suffering of ordinary citizens. While claims of secret cults or conspiratorial coordination are often exaggerated, the perception itself is telling. It reflects a deep crisis of trust between rulers and the ruled. When banditry, terrorism, kidnapping, and violent crime persist with limited accountability, citizens naturally suspect elite complicity or, at minimum, elite indifference. The result is a belief that suffering is not an accident but a tool of control. Whether or not, this belief is accurate in all cases, its prevalence is dangerous to national cohesion. History is littered with the stories of people who faced hardship, criticism, and calamity and gave up. But it is also shaped by those who endured, imagined alternatives, and acted with purpose. Vision drives purpose, both for individuals and for nations. Without vision, suffering feels meaningless; with vision, even sacrifice can be transformative.
For Nigeria’s leaders, vision should mean more than electoral cycles and fiscal targets. It should mean articulating a believable path toward justice, productivity, security, and shared prosperity. Political corruption, religious compromise, and economic crisis dominate Nigerian headlines. The cynical interpretation of power is often associated with Niccolò Machiavelli’s misquoted idea that “the end justifies the means” which has encouraged a style of leadership that prizes cunning over conscience. Yet even Machiavelli emphasized the stability of the state and never advocated chaos or predation.
True reform requires accountability at the highest levels. The symbolic power of holding leaders accountable cannot be overstated. The often-cited historical example of U.S. President Ulysses S. Grant being arrested in 1872 (not jailed long-term) for reckless carriage driving illustrates a culture where no one is above the law, at least in principle. Nations progress when laws govern leaders, not when leaders bend laws. Nigeria’s vision for 2027 must be broader than rigging and winning elections. It must confront historical injustices, reform governance structures, unleash productive energy, and rebuild trust between the state and its citizens. Ethnicity should be a source of cultural richness, not political weaponization. If Nigeria is to move forward, it must rediscover vision in a bold, inclusive, and morally grounded manner. Without it, the country risks continuing the cycle of underdevelopment amid abundance. With it, even long-standing wounds can begin to heal. Vision, after all, is not a luxury; it is the first duty of leadership.
Obiotika Wilfred Toochukwu,
Lagos
