Nigeria’s democracy is quietly being converted into a family business.
While the child of the common man is still struggling to survive a broken education system, mass unemployment and rising insecurity, the children of politicians are already being positioned to inherit power. What we are witnessing is not leadership renewal but the steady rise of political dynasties — a trend that threatens the very idea of democratic governance.
Democracy is meant to guarantee equal opportunity. Yet in today’s Nigeria, access to power increasingly depends on bloodline, not merit. Politics, as Harold Lasswell put it, is about who gets what, when and how. In Nigeria, it is fast becoming about whose child gets it.
This pattern is no longer subtle. It is deliberate.
Nyesom Wike, minister of the Federal Capital Territory, has become one of the clearest examples. Having dismissed political godsons as untrustworthy, Wike now appears more comfortable grooming his own sons. His sons, Joaquin and Jordan, have reportedly benefited from vast land allocations in Abuja. They were also included in Nigeria’s delegation to the Asia Pacific Cities Summit and Mayors’ Forum in Dubai — a move that raised public outrage. Wike’s defence was telling: they needed to “learn about government.”
But government is not a family internship programme.
Wike has also been seen repeatedly with his son, Joaquin, at political rallies in Rivers state, where attacks on Governor Siminalayi Fubara and mobilisation for President Bola Tinubu’s re-election dominate the agenda. These appearances are not accidental. They are political grooming in plain sight.
The hypocrisy is even more striking. Wike once argued that sending students abroad to study law and other humanities was a waste of public funds because Nigeria has capable institutions. Yet his son, Joaquin, who was called to the bar last year, has gone on to obtain a master’s degree in the United Kingdom. While children of ordinary Nigerians are told to manage what they have, the children of power enjoy unlimited options. Rumours that Joaquin may contest for the Obio-Akpor House of Representatives seat in 2027 only deepen public concern.
The Tinubu family presents a similar picture. Seyi Tinubu, the president’s son, wields enormous influence without holding any official position. His large security convoy, which Wole Soyinka once described as excessive and disruptive, signals power without accountability. He attends high-level government meetings and international events despite lacking any constitutional role. As grand patron of the City Boy Movement, a political support group, he is already embedded in the political machinery ahead of 2027. The speculation that he may contest the Lagos governorship would only cement his father’s grip on the state after more than two decades.
In Ebonyi state, former governor Dave Umahi openly backed his son, Osborne Umahi, who purchased a ₦30 million APC chairmanship form and emerged as party flagbearer for Ohaozara local government area. Umahi did not hide his intentions; he simply asked his people to accept his son.
In Lagos, Speaker Mudashiru Obasa followed the same path. His son, Abdul-Ganiyu Obasa, rose from vice-chairman to chairman of Agege local government after the substantive chairman became incapacitated. He was sworn in by Governor Babajide Sanwo-Olu in December 2025.
In Delta state, Marilyn Okowa-Daramola, daughter of former governor Ifeanyi Okowa, sits in the state House of Assembly. In Kaduna, Nasir El-Rufai’s son is already in the House of Representatives. And these are just the visible cases. Many others are quietly lining up.
Supporters often argue that these individuals have the right to contest elections. That is true. But rights are meaningless when the playing field is rigged. When access to power is lubricated by state resources, name recognition and political structures built by parents, the process ceases to be fair. It becomes inheritance.
Nigeria’s institutions are too weak to absorb this level of elite recycling. In countries where political dynasties exist, strong institutions provide checks. Nigeria lacks such safeguards. Here, dynasties do not merely reproduce leadership; they reproduce incompetence, corruption and entitlement.
The danger is clear. A generation that has suffered under failed leadership is being prepared to hand over power to the children of those same leaders. If Nigerians remain silent, they will not only serve today’s rulers but also serve their heirs.
Nigerian youths must draw the line. Democracy cannot survive when leadership becomes hereditary. We cannot mortgage our future to political families who have already failed our present.
This is not continuity. It is political slavery. And it must be resisted.
By ALO360 EDITORIAL BOARD
