By Olukorede Yishau
IN THE days leading to the last governorship election in Osun, the state of the living spring, it looked like the heavens would collapse and the world of those within it would cease to exist. But, when the day came, heaven didn’t fall.
Instead, Ademola Adeleke, the incumbent governor, was not only returned, but he was also returned convincingly.
Resoundingly. Not many were taken aback.
Some of us may not like the fact that Adeleke dances aggressively almost all the time. We may also not like the fact that he hardly engages in what we consider serious dialectical discussion. But, no matter what we feel, we are less important in the scheme of things once the majority in Osun State have kept queuing behind him.
Adeleke, the inheritor of the ‘serubawon’ legacy, has repeatedly shown to us that the bulk of his people do not care about the things some of us care about. They like him the way he is, and it doesn’t look like that is stopping any time soon. This is the painful truth those against him must learn.
They need him to rally the people of Osun. Being against him hasn’t helped and it doesn’t look like it will help. All politics is local and the folks who matter in Osun politics have shown that they favour the way of Jackson the dancer. Perhaps we should all just dance along or risk being left behind.
Beyond Adeleke, however, is the matter of the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC), the agency, which organised the election that has given him a second term of office. For me, there is a simple test by which Prof. Joash Amupitan’s tenure at INEC may eventually be remembered: every election after Osun must be better than Osun. Not similar. Not as good. But better. We know that the August 15 governorship election in Osun State wasn’t perfect.
We hear reports of vote-buying, logistical difficulties, technical glitches involving the Bimodal Voter Accreditation System (BVAS), and concerns about the pace of uploading some results remain part of the story. But we can see that Osun has seemingly created something Nigeria’s recent elections desperately need: a benchmark.
For years, every election has been treated as if it were an isolated event. When an election goes badly, INEC explains the circumstances. When it goes relatively well, everyone moves on to the next election without sufficiently asking what worked and how it can be institutionalised.
That should change. Osun should become the floor, not the ceiling.
I believe Amupitan himself understood the significance of the election before the votes were cast. In Osogbo, he described the election as a mirror of the 2027 general election and insisted that the winner would emerge through the ballot, not through violence. That statement now carries a heavier burden.
An election is not credible merely because there is no major bloodshed. It is not credible simply because INEC announces a winner. And it is not credible merely because the winner’s supporters celebrate while the loser’s supporters remain relatively calm. Credibility is more demanding.
It requires voters to believe that their votes were properly accredited, counted and transmitted. It requires political parties to know that the same rules apply to everyone. It requires observers to be able to independently test the results. It requires losing candidates to have a credible avenue for challenging irregularities.
And it requires the electoral commission to be sufficiently transparent that Nigerians do not have to choose between believing INEC and believing rumours. In that respect, Osun offers important lessons.
Yiaga Africa, which deployed observers across the state, reported that the announced results were consistent with its statistical estimates. Other assessments similarly described the poll as competitive and largely peaceful while pointing to weaknesses that still need attention.
That matters.
An electoral commission should not demand trust as a favour. It should make the process sufficiently transparent to earn it. This is where Amupitan’s challenge begins. The temptation after a relatively successful election is to celebrate. There has already been commendation for INEC’s performance in Osun, with a coalition of civil society organisations, opposition parties and other democratic stakeholders urging the commission to improve further before 2027. INEC, in response, said it would do better.
We demand that if there were delays in deploying electoral materials in Osun, the next election should have fewer delays; if BVAS malfunctioned in some locations, the next election should have fewer technical failures; if result-uploading generated uncertainty, the next election should have faster and clearer communication; and if vote-buying remained a problem, the next election should show stronger institutional resistance to it.
The measure of reform is not how eloquently officials explain yesterday’s problem. It is whether the same problem survives into tomorrow. This is particularly important because the political stakes are rising dramatically as Nigeria moves towards the 2027 general election.
Osun was a governorship election in one state. The next general election will involve presidential, senatorial, House of Representatives and state legislative contests across the federation. The number of candidates, polling units, security concerns, political interests and competing narratives will be vastly greater.
If an electoral system cannot improve from a state-level test, there is little reason to expect it to withstand a national one. That is why Osun should be subjected to an honest post-election audit. Not the ceremonial kind in which officials congratulate themselves and move on.
But a real audit asking critical questions: How many polling units experienced late arrival of personnel? Where did BVAS fail? How quickly were technical problems resolved?
How many result uploads were delayed? What caused those delays? What happened to complaints about vote-buying? Were security agencies able to respond effectively to threats? Were persons with disabilities adequately accommodated? Did voters receive enough information? Which procedures worked and which ones did not?
The answers should not remain inside government files. They should become part of the public record.
There is also a larger issue here. Technology has become an important part of Nigeria’s electoral reforms, but technology cannot by itself produce credible elections.
A malfunctioning machine can frustrate a voter. But technology does not invent vote-buying. A transparent result portal can make manipulation harder. But it cannot stop politicians from attempting to purchase votes. Electronic accreditation can strengthen identification.
But it cannot replace the responsibility of political parties to obey the law. The human beings remain the most important component of the electoral system. This is why the conduct of political parties and candidates matters as much as the conduct of INEC.
For me, democracy is not only about winning.
It is also about losing without destroying the system that made victory possible. Osun offers an encouraging example in that respect, but it should not be romanticised. A relatively peaceful aftermath should be regarded as a democratic expectation, not a miracle.
Nigeria must get to a point where congratulating an opponent is not regarded as extraordinary statesmanship, where challenging an election is done through evidence and lawful channels rather than street violence, and where accepting a result does not depend on whether one’s preferred candidate won.
The electoral umpire, however, bears the greatest institutional burden. Amupitan cannot control every politician. He can neither control every voter nor personally prevent every act of vote-buying, but he can insist that INEC’s processes are predictable, transparent and consistently applied.
He can make the commission’s data speak. He can ensure that every election leaves behind a documentary trail strong enough to answer the inevitable question: how did these numbers emerge? That is the real meaning of transparency.
The reward for a good work, Amupitan should know, is a better work. There should be no regression disguised as normal electoral difficulty. Everything should be better. After all, better is better than good. Osun has done something important, even without being perfect.
It has made it possible to ask a more useful question about Nigeria’s elections: “What did Osun teach us, and will the next election improve on it?” That is the question Amupitan should welcome. He has done well in Osun, but the result of a good work is a better one.
I hasten to note that the worst thing that can happen to an electoral commission is for praise to become more important than scrutiny. Compliments are pleasant, but institutional memory is more valuable.
My final take:
Amupitan does not need Nigerians to declare that he has solved the country’s electoral problems after one governorship election. He needs to demonstrate, election after election, that the system can learn. Osun was good. Every other election must be better because Osun was not perfect.
Its strengths must be preserved, its weaknesses must be corrected, and its mistakes must become lessons rather than recurring features.
And when the 2027 general election eventually arrives, Nigerians should be able to look back at Osun and say: that was where the improvement began. For INEC, that would be a more meaningful legacy than applause.
For Amupitan, it would be proof that an election is not merely an event that ends when a winner is declared but an institutional examination, and every subsequent examination should show that the institution has learnt from the previous one. Osun has written the prologue, but the next set of elections should write the rest of the book.
Quote
Amupitan does not need Nigerians to declare that he has solved the country’s electoral problems after one governorship election. He needs to demonstrate, election after election, that the system can learn. Osun was good. Every other election must be better because Osun was not perfect. Its strengths must be preserved, its weaknesses must be corrected, and its mistakes must become lessons rather than recurring features.
—
