Sir: In every democracy, the ballot is sacred, but never neutral. Its credibility depends entirely on the integrity of those who manage it. Around the world, electoral commissions have proven to be either the guardians of democratic will or the architects of its betrayal.
Even in mature democracies, the referee matters. The United States, once considered a gold standard, now grapples with declining trust in its electoral infrastructure. The UK has faced criticism over voter ID laws and disenfranchisement. These examples reveal that elections are won or lost not just by candidates, but by the credibility of those who oversee them.
Nigeria’s electoral calendar has become increasingly fragmented. Off-cycle elections, once anomalies, now dominate the political landscape. While legally valid, they have created a perpetual campaign season that exhausts voters, strains institutions, and destabilizes
The question of who leads INEC and how they are chosen is central. The rhythm of democracy is set not just by the calendar, but by the character of those who oversee it. And unless Nigeria rethinks how it selects and evaluates the leadership of its electoral commission, the 2027 elections risk being compromised before they begin—not by fraud alone, but by fatigue, distrust, and the slow erosion of civic faith.
Succession within INEC must be guided by more than political calculation. It must be anchored in ethical screening that evaluates not just competence, but character. The individuals who oversee our elections must be shaped by civic purpose, not partisan loyalty. They must understand that their role is not to manage outcomes, but to protect the process.
Leadership transitions within INEC occasioned by retirements, reappointments, or reshuffles are not mere administrative footnotes. They are constitutional inflection points. Yet too often, these successions unfold in silence, negotiated behind closed doors, shielded from public scrutiny. This opacity undermines trust.
Nigeria must move beyond substitution toward institutional transformation, anchoring succession as a civic covenant in integrity, transparency, and accountability. While INEC operates within a hierarchical civil service culture, the process can be incrementally democratized.
Nominees may first be vetted internally for technical competence and ethical track record, then reviewed by a multi-stakeholder panel that includes civil society, legal experts, and electoral scholars.
Public-facing elements such as panel’s findings, written public submissions, or candidate profiles introduce transparency without forcing bureaucrats to abandon internal protocols. Over time, these hybrid mechanisms build both institutional habit and public confidence.
Candidates must be assessed not only for technical skill but ethical formation. Their record should demonstrate defence of institutions, reckoning with electoral history, and leadership that listens to and treats voters not as data points, but as citizens whose dignity is sacrosanct.
INEC itself should institutionalize a leadership ethics charter, binding commissioners to transparency, empathy, and historical accountability, with promotions tied to public scorecards tracking performance annually.
The credibility of our elections begins long before the ballot is printed. It begins in the moral spine of those who oversee them. As 2027 approaches, Nigeria cannot continue to treat electoral leadership as a technical function, managed through quiet substitutions and opaque procedures.
INEC’s leadership must become our first election—an election judged not by party loyalty but by integrity, empathy, and civic dignity.
For a nation, the referee is not a bystander; the referee is the result. If we fail here, every ballot cast in 2027 will already be stained. But if we succeed, we will give voters not only the right to vote, but the reason to believe again.
•Lekan Olayiwola. lekanolayiwola@gmail.com
