Gov Bago’s advocacy is not the kind that passes unnoticed. Ordinarily, the loudest defenders of a two-term tenure are those already seated comfortably in office, incumbents whose political calculations are shaped, consciously or unconsciously, by the promise of continuity. Their arguments are often partisan, their judgment clouded by personal ambition or survival instinct. That is what makes Governor Mohammed Umaru Bago’s public endorsement of a single-term tenure for political and elected office holders so unusual, even disarming. He did not spell out the precise length of the proposed single term, nor did he indicate when such a reform might realistically take effect. Yet, in a political culture driven by re-election arithmetic, his willingness to challenge a system from which he stands to benefit is revealing, intriguing, and refreshing. The debate over single versus double tenure is not new, but it is rare, almost countercultural, for a sitting governor, who is expected to seek re-election and profit from incumbency advantage, to become a daring advocate against the status quo. Nigerian politics has long been shaped by a silent divide between beneficiaries determined to preserve existing arrangements and a weary majority forced to endure up to eight years of poor leadership when fate is unkind.
It was therefore unsurprising that the media seized on Bago’s remarks over the weekend, with headlines boldly declaring that the governor was pushing for a single-term system. The advocacy was reportedly made on Friday, 12 December 2025, during the inauguration of newly appointed commissioners and elected local government chairmen and vice chairmen. In recounting the event, news reports quoted the governor as arguing that a single term would eliminate laziness among politicians. He reflected candidly that there were decisions he would have taken earlier, including dismissing some appointees, but which he deferred in anticipation of a second term. His admission that everything in Nigeria is now tied to politics, and that a single term would have made him more decisive, struck a chord far beyond Niger State. At the heart of his argument lies a simple proposition that political ambition distracts governance, while freedom from re-election pressure sharpens focus.
What becomes evident from the governor’s dilemma is a truth political theorists have long acknowledged: the pursuit of continuity often undermines decisiveness. Joseph Schumpeter once observed that democratic competition can distort governance when leaders prioritise political survival over policy courage. An ambitious leader, perpetually mindful of a second term, is rarely fearless or fully objective. The need to appease sentiments, manage factions, and avoid offending powerful blocs, rightly or wrongly, can paralyse bold action. This perspective echoes the views of some analysts who argue that major reforms are rarely undertaken by leaders nursing re-election ambitions. The removal of fuel subsidy offers a telling example. President Bola Tinubu’s Chief of Staff, Femi Gbajabiamila, described the decision as a bold move taken to secure Nigeria’s future rather than electoral advantage. While opinions remain divided on its impact, the underlying message is clear: some policies are too costly politically to be embraced by leaders focused on a second mandate.
The same logic surfaced earlier in the year within Nigeria’s education sector, when the Federal Government introduced a policy barring acting Vice Chancellors, Rectors, and Provosts from contesting substantive positions while still in office. That decision followed repeated crises in tertiary institutions where acting heads allegedly leveraged their temporary authority to influence outcomes. By insisting that such officers must step aside before applying, the policy sought to restore fairness, reduce tension, and protect institutional integrity. In essence, it acknowledged a familiar governance problem: it is difficult to remain neutral when personal ambition is at stake. Whether in politics or academia, the presence of a continuity incentive often compromises objectivity.
Seen through this lens, Governor Bago’s remarks resemble less a provocation and more an honest confession. They suggest an acknowledgment that the chains attached to re-election: fear, calculation, desperation, and political bargaining can hold leaders hostage and turn governance into a tool of patronage. When Bago dissolved his first set of commissioners, it struck many observers as an unusual act of political courage. Leaders rarely part ways with those who helped them ascend, knowing that gratitude in politics is short-lived and that a single perceived slight can erase a hundred favours. Such decisions often manufacture more enemies than allies. It perhaps explains why several former commissioners later found their way back into government, not necessarily for efficiency, but to preserve loyalty, emotional balance, and political correctness, even when such choices carried inconvenience or compromise.
The governor’s assertion that nearly everything has been turned into politics may be his most compelling argument for a single-term system. In Nigeria, governments scarcely enjoy two uninterrupted years before attention shifts to succession battles. Opponents mobilise early, allies begin to hedge their bets, and governance is crowded out by calculations of survival. With incumbency advantage stretching power effectively to eight years, political contests become wars of attrition, do-or-die struggles that heighten tension and narrow participation. A single-term structure could shorten waiting times, reduce sit-tight tendencies, and open political space to a broader pool of actors, much like tenure limits in universities aim to prevent stagnation. It could also ease the strain of power rotation, reduce regional frustration, and spare hopefuls the cruel arithmetic of age and timing that often denies them the chance to serve within their lifetime.
Bago’s intervention has therefore done more than spark headlines. It has renewed, re-energised, and legitimised a national conversation on whether Nigeria’s governance challenges are better served by a single-term or two-term framework. Political scientists remind us that no tenure system is inherently virtuous; outcomes depend on institutional strength, accountability mechanisms, and political culture. A single term may sharpen focus and reduce abuse of incumbency, but it may also weaken electoral accountability and disrupt policy continuity. Conversely, a two-term system can reward performance and allow learning, yet it often magnifies power imbalance and political distraction.
Perhaps the deeper lesson in Bago’s advocacy is that Nigeria’s dilemma is not merely about the number of terms, but about how ambition, power, and institutions interact. Until governance is insulated from the anxieties of political survival, every tenure arrangement will carry its own distortions. In that sense, the governor’s unusual candour has performed a rare service: it has invited Nigerians to rethink not just how long leaders should stay, but how freely they should be allowed to govern.
Bagudu can be reached at bagudumohammed15197@gmail.com or on 0703 494 3575.
