A Rejoinder to M.O Ubani, SAN (MOU) on ADC Congress
By Bello Charles Kolawole (Ph.D)
As the 2027 general elections draw nearer, my attention has been drawn to the publication of my respected senior brother and learned friend, M.O Ubani, SAN (MOU), a constitutional lawyer and policy analyst, on the subject: “When INEC Stays Away: The Legal Consequences of Non-Observation of Party Congresses and Conventions Under the Electoral Act 2026.”
The write-up presents a strong doctrinal legal argument grounded in the interpretation of the Electoral Act 2026, particularly regarding the requirement for political parties to notify the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) of their congresses and conventions.
- Advertisement -
However, from a political standpoint, the analysis appears overly legalistic and insufficiently attentive to the realities of Nigeria’s political environment. For clarity and emphasis, party congresses in Nigeria are not merely procedural exercises governed by statutes; they are deeply political events shaped by power dynamics, elite negotiations, and factional interests. By focusing predominantly on statutory compliance—especially the issue of notice—the write-up risks legitimising processes that may meet legal requirements but fall short of democratic standards in practice. What happens, for instance, if a political party conducts its congress in a manner that is inaccessible, exclusionary, or fundamentally opaque?
Furthermore, the characterization of INEC as merely a regulator and observer, while legally defensible, does not fully capture its practical importance within Nigeria’s electoral system. The presence of INEC at party congresses plays a critical role in enhancing transparency, deterring manipulation, and providing an independent layer of oversight. In a political system where internal party mechanisms are often weak, the absence of INEC cannot be dismissed as inconsequential. Even if such absence does not invalidate a congress in law, it may significantly erode the credibility and perceived legitimacy of the process in the eyes of party members and the public.
The reliance on judicial precedent, particularly the case of Akpabio v. Ekpoudom, also raises concerns. While the case is relevant, its application in the write-up appears somewhat generalized. Nigerian electoral jurisprudence is highly fact-specific, and court decisions in pre-election matters often depend on the peculiar circumstances of each case. By extrapolating a broad principle from a specific ruling, the analysis overlooks the inconsistencies and evolving nature of judicial interpretations in electoral disputes. This weakens the conclusiveness of the argument and suggests a need for a more nuanced engagement with case law.
In addition, the write-up does not sufficiently address the risk of political manipulation that may arise from its central thesis. While it argues that allowing INEC’s absence to invalidate congresses would effectively grant the Commission veto power, it fails to consider the opposite danger. If INEC’s absence carries no practical consequence, dominant factions within political parties may exploit this gap by organising congresses that are procedurally compliant on paper but fundamentally flawed in execution. Such actors could deliberately exclude opponents or manipulate outcomes, relying on proof of notice as a shield against legal challenge. In Nigeria’s political context, this creates a significant loophole that could undermine internal party democracy.
Closely related to this is the limited attention given to the substantive elements of democratic practice within political parties. The write-up emphasizes procedural compliance—such as issuing notice and avoiding court orders—but pays less attention to whether congresses are genuinely democratic. Issues such as inclusiveness, fairness in delegate selection, transparency in voting, and the absence of coercion are central to democratic legitimacy. A process that satisfies statutory requirements but is dominated by predetermined outcomes or elite control cannot meaningfully be described as democratic, regardless of its legal standing.
The discussion of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) convention reportedly influenced by Seyi Makinde introduces another layer of complexity. While the write-up attempts to distinguish this scenario on the basis of an alleged court order, the treatment appears somewhat selective and potentially partisan. The analysis assumes the validity and applicability of the court order without fully interrogating its scope or the surrounding legal controversies. This selective framing risks undermining the neutrality of the argument and gives the impression of a politically influenced interpretation rather than a purely objective legal assessment.
Moreover, the overall argument reflects a degree of idealism that may not align with Nigeria’s electoral realities. It assumes a system in which political parties act in good faith, regulatory bodies operate without bias, and court orders are consistently obeyed. In practice, however, Nigeria’s political landscape is marked by weak institutional enforcement, frequent litigation, and instances of selective compliance with legal norms. As a result, conclusions that are sound in theory may prove inadequate when applied to the complexities of real-world political behaviour.
Another significant gap in the write-up is the lack of engagement with enforcement challenges. While it clearly outlines the legal consequences of failing to notify INEC, it does not adequately address what happens when parties comply with the notice requirement but violate other critical aspects of the law or their own internal rules. Questions regarding who verifies the authenticity of delegates, how disputes are managed in the absence of independent observation, and how pre-election grievances are resolved remain largely unaddressed. This omission reinforces the impression that the analysis equates legal compliance with legitimacy—an assumption that does not always hold true in practice.
Beyond these doctrinal and institutional concerns, it is important to situate the discourse within the broader expectations Nigerians have of opposition parties, particularly the African Democratic Congress (ADC). At a time of significant national challenges, citizens increasingly expect the ADC not merely to engage in legal and procedural contestations, but to distinguish itself as a credible alternative platform with clear and practical policy options. There is a growing demand for the party to articulate concrete solutions on economic recovery, inflation, employment, and security, thereby demonstrating not just opposition capacity but governance readiness.
Equally important is the expectation that the ADC should elevate the tone of political engagement by building broad-based consensus rather than contributing to already heightened national tensions. In a fragile socio-political environment, opposition politics must serve as a stabilizing force—promoting dialogue, inclusion, and national cohesion—rather than deepening divisions through combative or polarizing strategies.
It is against this backdrop that the recent call for the resignation of the INEC Chairman, Prof Joash Amupitan, has generated concern and disappointment among many Nigerians. Nigerians are aggrieved that Prof. Amupitan, a man widely regarded as having impeccable character, is being unnecessarily drawn into the political fray. While political parties have the right to critique institutions, such calls—when not anchored in clear, compelling, and evidence-based reasoning—risk being perceived as politically motivated. More troubling is the growing perception that this demand may be interpreted through an ethno-religious lens, particularly given the INEC Chairman’s minority ethnic background and religious identity.
This perception, whether intended or not, raises concerns that the party may be drifting toward a form of identity politics that undermines national unity and distracts from substantive governance issues. Nigerians are increasingly wary of political narratives that appear to prioritize sectional considerations over merit, institutional integrity, and national interest.
In this regard, there is a compelling need for the ADC to recalibrate its approach. The party must demonstrate a commitment to responsible opposition—one that strengthens democratic institutions, engages constructively with electoral processes, and advances criticisms that are grounded in evidence rather than perception. By doing so, it can build public trust and reinforce its credibility as a national, rather than sectional, political force.
In conclusion, while the write-up demonstrates commendable strength in statutory interpretation and provides a clear articulation of the legal position regarding INEC’s non-attendance, it falls short in capturing the broader political implications of that position. A more balanced analysis would recognize that although INEC’s absence may not invalidate a congress in law, it can significantly undermine the transparency, credibility, and democratic legitimacy of the process. At the same time, opposition parties such as the ADC must rise to the occasion by offering policy-driven alternatives, fostering unity, and avoiding actions that may be perceived as divisive. Ultimately, the challenge lies not only in adhering to the letter of the law but also in upholding the spirit of democratic practice within Nigeria’s evolving political system.
Just my one cent respectfully submitted by:
Bello Charles Kolawole (Ph.D)
08035754442
(DEMOCRACY NEWSLINE NEWSPAPER, APRIL 21ST 2026)
