By Michael Tidi 

There is an unfolding political reality in Nigeria that invites not mere observation, but rigorous reflection. Across the tiers of governance, one discerns a deliberate and structured grooming of successors, frequently drawn from the children and close affiliates of incumbent political actors, many of whom are themselves young. While this phenomenon is not unlawful, it provokes a deeper constitutional and moral inquiry: what becomes of the vast majority of young Nigerians who remain structurally excluded from the architecture of power?

For far too long, Nigerian youths have been relegated, by a mixture of circumstance and acquiescence, to the margins of political engagement. They are mobilised as instruments of electoral convenience, deployed as foot soldiers in partisan contests, and celebrated in rhetorical flourish, yet seldom admitted into the inner sanctum of decision making. Politics, for many, has assumed the character of an abstract spectacle, observed at a distance rather than engaged as a civic obligation.

Yet Nigeria’s demographic reality renders such detachment both paradoxical and ultimately untenable. According to the National Bureau of Statistics, persons between the ages of 15 and 34 constitute well over 60 per cent of the national population, thereby forming the most significant demographic bloc. This numerical preponderance finds further expression in the electoral register. Data from the Independent National Electoral Commission relating to the 2023 general elections indicates that a substantial proportion of registered voters fall within the youthful and middle age brackets. The implication is inescapable. Nigerian youths are not merely a demographic majority; they are an electoral force of determinative consequence. The incongruity, therefore, lies not in their numbers, but in their limited translation into political power.

This condition finds philosophical resonance in the enduring insight of John Stuart Mill, who observed that “the worth of a state, in the long run, is the worth of the individuals composing it.” A polity cannot transcend the civic quality, engagement, and consciousness of its citizens. Where the most vibrant segment of the population remains disengaged, the state itself is diminished.

The constitutional order in Nigeria does not contemplate such exclusion. Section 14(2)(c) of the Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, 1999, as amended, unequivocally provides that the participation of the people in their government shall be ensured. This is not hortatory. It is normative and binding, forming part of the foundational philosophy upon which constitutional governance rests.

In like manner, Section 40 guarantees the right to freedom of association, including political association. It is through this constitutional gateway that political aspiration is legitimised and civic agency is expressed. The Not Too Young To Run Act, 2018, further operationalises this principle by dismantling age based barriers to elective office. It is a legislative affirmation that competence, not chronology, ought to define eligibility for leadership.

A synthesis of these provisions yields a compelling conclusion. Political exclusion in Nigeria is not a constitutional inevitability. It is, more often than not, the product of disengagement, reinforced by entrenched structures.

It would be intellectually disingenuous to deny that political succession in Nigeria is increasingly mediated through familial and elite networks. While such patterns are not uniquely Nigerian, they assume troubling dimensions when juxtaposed with widespread youth disengagement. The result is a gradual, almost imperceptible consolidation of oligarchic tendencies within a nominally democratic framework.

My own modest journey into politics illustrates both the constraints and possibilities inherent in the system. At the time of my initial foray, the constitutional threshold for election into a State House of Assembly was thirty years. Having attained that age, I presented myself for election. Though unsuccessful, the experience proved formative, sharpening both my political consciousness and institutional understanding, and eventually leading to my subsequent contest for the office of Council Chairman.

That later opportunity was made possible through the support of Arthur Ifeanyi Okowa. Absent such intervention, the rigidity of local political structures would likely have foreclosed meaningful participation. Yet it is to his credit that his support was not confined to a narrow circle. It extended to several young persons, thereby opening pathways for broader youth inclusion. Such examples of deliberate political mentorship remain regrettably scarce.

Notwithstanding these opportunities, I have also encountered the more familiar realities of political gatekeeping. In spaces where youths are conspicuously absent, and where only a handful of us are present, dismissive expressions such as “I nor be your age o” are frequently invoked, as though democratic engagement were an age grade assembly rather than a contest of ideas, competence, and character. The pejorative label “na small boy” is similarly deployed, betraying a flawed assumption that governance is a function of age rather than capacity.

This disposition is historically untenable. Many of Nigeria’s defining achievements have been conceived and executed by individuals in their youth, who refused to be constrained by the limitations imposed by age based prejudice.

Power, in a constitutional democracy, is neither hereditary nor the preserve of a privileged class. It is contingent, fluid, and ultimately anchored in legitimacy. Those who seek to monopolise it through exclusionary tactics misunderstand its nature. Equally, those who resign themselves to the margins abdicate their civic responsibility.

The lesson, therefore, is neither complex nor negotiable. Participation is imperative. Power is not donated. It is contested, earned, and sustained through engagement.

At the same time, prudence demands recognition of an equally important truth. Democratic stability is best sustained through intergenerational synergy. Youths bring energy, innovation, and adaptive thinking. The older generation contributes experience, institutional memory, and strategic depth. Each is incomplete without the other. The relationship is, in every sense, symbiotic.

As Nelson Mandela aptly reminded humanity, “It is in your hands to create a better world for all who live in it.” That responsibility is neither deferred nor transferable.

I therefore call on Nigerian youths to take up the gauntlet and enter the arena of political contestation. The habitual refrain of “I nor be your age o” must give way to a more mature understanding of democracy, one grounded in merit, participation, and accountability.

As the 2027 general elections approach, the imperative is clear. Engagement must transcend episodic enthusiasm. It must become deliberate, structured, and sustained. Political participation extends beyond candidacy. It encompasses integration into party systems, policy development, governance processes, and institutional learning.

Those who immerse themselves in these processes, who understand the grammar of governance and contribute to its evolution, are invariably better positioned for leadership when opportunity arises. Participation, therefore, must be conceived not as an event, but as a continuum.

Participation, however, cannot remain abstract. In every constitutional democracy, political power is organised and exercised through political parties. It is therefore imperative that youths move beyond passive interest and formally align with political platforms where candidates are produced, policies are shaped, and governance is negotiated. Without such integration, influence remains largely theoretical.

In this regard, Nigerian youths should feel encouraged to participate in any political party or movement whose ideals, policies, and vision align with their convictions and aspirations for the country. No democratic system thrives when its most vibrant demographic remains politically detached or perpetually on the sidelines.

Beyond the formal structures of political parties, there are also emerging civic and political movements across the country which provide additional avenues for mobilisation, ideological engagement, leadership development, and collective action. Properly engaged, such platforms can serve as incubators for future leadership and instruments for coordinated democratic participation.

Equally important is the cultivation of solidarity among youths. Political advancement is rarely an individual enterprise. It is built on alliances, shared knowledge, and collective effort. To fragment is to weaken; to collaborate is to strengthen.

Nigerian youths must also resist the reduction of their role to that of perpetual political labourers. They are not destined to remain hewers of wood and drawers of water within the polity. By law, by demography, and by democratic principle, they deserve not only a seat at the table of governance, but also a voice in the rooms where decisions that shape the nation are taken.

Nigeria presently stands at a critical juncture, poised between generational transition and institutional continuity. The trajectory it ultimately follows will depend, in significant measure, on whether its youths choose engagement over indifference.

The Constitution has laid the foundation. Legislative reforms have expanded the horizon. What remains is resolve.

The future is never ceded to the passive. It is shaped, invariably, by those who organise, align, and participate within the structures that produce power.

For Nigerian youths, the moment is not prospective. It is immediate.