All of this faith is however a risk. There is the possibility, however slight, that elections may not hold in Nigeria next year, if some powerful people have their way. Or if they do hold, the elections could be marred by chaos and violence. Even if they hold peacefully, persons who were not voted for by the people could be declared elected and could go on to serve for three-quarters of the term, as happened in Anambra State in 2003. Or if the people get the actual leaders that they voted for, those same leaders could turn around and betray the people who elected them. Therefore, the faith in 2007 is a big risk. In fact, Nigerians’ faith in 2007 flows from their faith in liberal democracy, an idea sold to them by Western philosophers, political scientists and politicians. It could well be that liberal democracy has served the Westerners very well in their own countries, but for Africa and Nigeria, its wholesale adoption is a risk. It is a risk to adopt a system of rule that was evolved in other lands, over many centuries, in totally different social and economic circumstances, and without any of the right institutions, popular attitudes or supporting infrastructure. Maybe it is a risk that we cannot risk doing without, but it is a risk all the same. Many Nigerians have faith in the 1999 Constitution as the main legal instrument to usher in liberal democratic rule in this country. Having faith in the Constitution is a risk, however. There are many people in Nigeria who scoff at the idea that a man-made document is the “supreme” order of political life. Even as man-made documents come, this one was not produced in nearly ideal circumstances. Justice Niki Tobi and his six or so colleagues who produced it within a one month period in 1999 have uncertain democratic credentials. The Armed Forces Ruling Council of General Abdulsalami Abubakar, which approved and promulgated it into law, had even more dubious democratic credentials. Some Nigerians already suspect that they buried a few booby traps in there to pave the way for the soldiers’ eventual return. The Constitution apart, the main legal vehicle leading us to next year’s polls is the recently enacted Electoral Act, in which Nigeria’s 37-odd political parties and million-member political class apparently have faith. But this faith is a risk, because the electoral act is a rickety vehicle no more serviceable than a Lagos molue bus. It was produced as a collaborative venture between INEC, the National Assembly and the Presidency, with the PDP pulling the strings behind the scene. None of these four can be called a trusted friend of democracy, and there is grave doubt as to whether this law will contain election rigging and ensure the sanctity of the ballot. In any case, the Electoral Act is as good as INEC makes it to be. Many politicians appear to have faith that INEC will faithfully implement this law. Which, if you think about it, is a risk. It is alleged by some people that most of INEC’s national and resident state commissioners are card-carrying PDP members. This is akin to appointing Augustine Egwuavon to referee a match between the Super Eagles and the Ghana Black Stars. INEC has already complained that it does not have enough money to prepare for next year’s polls; this is not unlike the Undertaker arriving at the funeral without a casket or the corpse.

INEC’s overall ability to conduct next year’s polls is highly subject to the wishes of the Obasanjo administration, which controls the purse strings as well as the appointment and sack letters of INEC commissioners. Some Nigerians, at least, have faith that the Obasanjo regime will fulfill its constitutional and moral duty by seeing that next year’s polls are conducted fairly and transparently. This is however a risk. The President had earlier shown clearly that he does not want to leave power next year. Even after that quest was defeated, he gave more than subtle indications that he would not accept some people as his successors, even if the people want them. To have him superintending over next year’s polls is therefore a risk. Anyway, assuming that INEC and the government impartially play their own role, the political parties must still play their own role well if the polls are to succeed. By rushing to declare their aspirations under the platforms of so many parties, it looks like thousands of Nigerian politicians have faith in them and their leaders. That is a risk, clearly. The “largest party in Africa” is now no more than a secret cult. Its chief rival, ANPP, has no more focus than the modern-day ZANU PF. The next major party, AD, looks these days like UNITA after the death of Jonas Savimbi. With “party leaders” such as Ahmadu Ali and Don Etiebet, no one is sure that the parties will produce credible primary election time tables and guidelines and if they do, whether they will adhere to them.

In any case, the conduct of general elections in Nigeria has the appearance of a national emergency or even a war situation; it requires the total mobilization of national infrastructure. Some officials apparently have faith that this country has the supporting facilities to successfully conduct next year’s polls. Having faith in Nigeria’s roads, bridges, vehicles, power supply and phone lines to support a major undertaking such as elections is a risk. In this country, the police have to guard every polling station, lest party thugs seize the ballot boxes and ran away with them, but there are hardly enough policemen to go round. Whereas in Bangladesh, ballot paper is made out of torn primary school exercise books, in Nigeria, it requires security printing and minting, lest our numerous street-corner printing presses make their own ballot paper. In fact, in India, huge as it is, ballot papers are dispatched to all polling stations through the Post Office. But in Nigeria, when the late Postmaster General Alhaji Abubakar Musa was once asked if our post office can do such a function, he said, “We have the capacity to deliver ballot papers to every state and local government, but I will not accept such a consignment because of the risks involved for our postal vans and drivers”. What about the aspirants to many offices under the Nigerian political sun? Electoral laws, party leaders and incumbent governments may be very important to the success of next year’s polls, but in the end, an election cannot rise above the quality of the aspirants, candidates and their supporters. Right now, tens of thousands of Nigerians are busy sticking posters on walls, shouting themselves hoarse in campaign vehicles and arguing at street corners and at beer parlours in support of their preferred election candidates. It does look like they have faith in them. This is a risk in many ways. The aspirant that you are busy supporting may actually be somewhere, bargaining away with rival aspirants. Maybe he was not really after the presidency, as he swore to you that he was, but merely wanted to position himself for a ministerial or ambassadorial position. The biggest risk for a Nigerian however, with regards to supporting a particular candidate, is that he could win the election and then forget all about you. And then there is the electorate. The central assumption in liberal democracy is that the people---or at any rate those among them who are over 18 years of age, who constitute the electorate----are rational enough to sift between candidates, scrutinize their programs and personal records, and elect those who are most likely to deliver good governance and quality leadership. To make this assumption in Nigeria is however a risk, a big risk. Many Nigerians are already campaigning that “power must shift to the North”, or that “power must remain in the South”, or that “it is the turn of the South-South to produce the next president”. To have faith that such people will rationally vote for a program of rule or personal record over and above regional sentimentality is clearly a risk.