From Umbrella to Broom and Back Again
By Prof. MarkAnthony Nze
In saner climes, switching political parties is a matter of ideological divergence. In Nigeria, it’s a matter of “who go give me ticket?” This episode unpacks the sacred dance of defection — that rhythmic shoki Nigerian politicians perform every election cycle. Call it political agility. Call it shameless gymnastics. Here, we simply call it waka about democracy.
One day, it’s broom. Next week, it’s umbrella. Before you blink, they’re flying chicken, dancing torchlight, or identifying as “technocrat with no party affiliation.” But give them a juicy appointment or a juicyer envelope, and boom — they remember their “grassroots base.”
And they never leave quietly. No, it’s always with maximum volume and minimum shame.
They’ll call a press conference and declare with full chest:
“My conscience no longer aligns with the direction of the party.”
Ah! That same conscience that collected constituency allowance without building toilet? That same conscience that traveled abroad while your ward health center was overgrown with weeds?
Let’s not kid ourselves: Nigerian politicians don’t defect for principle. They defect for primary. When Party A denies them ticket, Party B suddenly becomes “the vehicle to rescue Nigeria.” Give them another four years and enough rice, and they’ll rescue Nigeria into the hands of Party C — or whoever is serving pepper soup and promise.
It’s the Only-in-Naija Syndrome: where someone can criticize a party on Monday, defect on Tuesday, collect form on Wednesday, and insult loyal members by Thursday. Friday is for thanksgiving. Saturday, he’s back in the same church he used to mock his new party in. Sunday? He goes live on Instagram to say:
“This is not about me. This is about service.”
Oga, abeg rest. This is about survival. You’ve built your entire political career like one long game of musical chairs. Whenever the music stops, you just need to make sure you’re still sitting on one party’s platform — ideology be damned.
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Even the parties don’t mind. They’ll welcome defectors with open arms and closed eyes. No screening, no shame. A former enemy today becomes “our esteemed leader” tomorrow. Because in Nigeria, there are no permanent friends, no permanent enemies — just permanent ambition.
And you’ll hear them again:
“I’ve returned to the umbrella because my people asked me to.”
Your people? You mean your PA, your loyal boy, and that one media aide you met on Twitter?
It’s a cycle: Umbrella to broom to umbrella again. No development. No accountability. Just perpetual political laundering.
So let’s call it what it is:
Not defection.
Rebranding.
Not party politics.
Stomach politics.
These men aren’t party faithful — they’re ideological prostitutes, switching allegiance for the next best client.
And if you still believe it’s about “service to the people,”
then maybe you need deliverance — or at least, new glasses.
Professor MarkAnthony Ujunwa Nze is a distinguished Nigerian-born investigative journalist, public intellectual, and global governance analyst, whose work spans critical intersections of media, law, and policy. His expertise extends across strategic management, leadership, and international business law, where he brings a nuanced understanding of institutional dynamics, cross-border legal frameworks, and executive decision-making in complex global environments.
Currently based in New York, Professor Nze serves as a full tenured professor at the New York Centre for Advanced Research. There, he spearheads interdisciplinary research at the forefront of governance innovation, corporate strategy, and geopolitical risk. Widely respected for his intellectual rigor and principled advocacy, he remains a vital voice in shaping ethical leadership and sustainable governance across emerging and established democracies.