By Nnaoke Ufere, PhD
For decades, since the dawn of the Fourth Republic, a relentless and insidious cycle has taken root—unyielding, self-replicating, and deeply entrenched in every election and presidency.
One administration after another—Obasanjo, Jonathan, Buhari, and now Tinubu—has not merely failed to break this vicious cycle but has actively fortified it, wielding deception and manipulation as weapon.
Instead of bringing real change, they have perfected the art of deflection—demonizing the opposition, suppressing the media, and blaming their predecessors—while allowing the nation to be looted with impunity, all under the false pretense of leadership and reform.
This cycle, which I call the Ten Stages of Leadership Failure and National Decline, unfolds through ten interconnected stages, each reinforcing the next in an unrelenting downward spiral. It encapsulates the emotional and psychological toll on Nigerians, charting our journey from the heights of hope to the abyss of disillusionment and the crushing weight of perpetual leadership failures.
Like the self-cannibalism of the Ouroboros—an ancient symbol of a serpent devouring its own tail—Nigeria’s leadership failure is an unending cycle, consuming itself only to be reborn with each new administration. Every regime arrives draped in the illusion of change and renewed hope, yet inevitably sinks deeper into corruption, incompetence, and deception.
The Tinubu administration, an amplified continuation of Buhari’s disastrous legacy and those before him, does not merely sustain this cycle—it accelerates it, solidifying economic sabotage, poverty, mass suffering, betrayal, and lack of accountability as the very foundation of governance.
The first and most toxic stage, Purchased Optimism, sets the cycle in motion—where presidential candidates secure their party nominations and ascend to power through a web of financial manipulation and co-optation—buying delegate votes, bribing voters, corrupting the judiciary, making grand yet empty promises, exploiting tribal and religious divisions, and weaponizing poverty to consolidate support.
I strongly believe that breaking free from our nation’s cycle of leadership crisis requires every Nigerian to understand these 10 stages and how they perpetuate systemic dysfunction. Recognizing the tactics politicians use to deceive, manipulate, and pacify the masses is the first crucial step toward dismantling this vicious cycle and reclaiming our nation’s future.
Stage #1. Purchased Optimism: The Deception That Starts It All
Purchased Optimism is the first stage of Nigeria’s endless cycle of failed leadership, where hope of a better future is not born from credible leadership or visionary policies but artificially manufactured through deception, coercion, and outright bribery.
It is a deliberate strategy in which politicians exploit the desperation and poverty of Nigerians to procure power, offering bags of rice, sachets of spaghetti, and meager sums of naira as election-day bribes. This calculated weaponization of poverty ensures their “victory” while diverting attention from the long-term consequences of their incompetence and lack of integrity.
And when all else fails, they toss in a dose of tribal division—because nothing keeps us distracted quite like fighting each other instead of the politicians who manipulate us.
For instance, Tinubu’s alleged vote-buying schemes and judicial corruption to secure the presidency exemplify this stage—where hope for a better future after the Buhari disaster was not inspired by genuine competence or a vision for solving the people’s problems but rather acquired through financial influence.
In this stage, Tinubu’s campaign rhetoric peddled a utopian fantasy of renewed hope, economic revival, job creation, and an end to systemic corruption, but it was merely a smokescreen designed to obscure the reality of his true intentions.
But beneath his grand promises and false optimism lay nothing but empty words—bereft of strategy, competence, or even a shred of moral integrity. The real campaign wasn’t about policies or vision; it was fueled by billions of naira, allegedly deployed to buy loyalty and votes, rig the system, and secure power at any cost.
Stage #2. Doubt: When the Illusion Starts to Crumble
Doubt is the stage where the illusion of leadership begins to unravel, and initial optimism gives way to skepticism. It is when the bold assurances we once believed in start to feel like deception—when early actions by the administration contradict its promises, exposing a lack of preparedness, strategic planning, or genuine concern for the people. Unease spreads as we realize that the leadership we entrusted with our future may have no real plan at all.
At this stage, soon after Tinubu took office, doubts about his leadership began to solidify. His abrupt removal of the fuel subsidy—implemented without a clear strategy to mitigate its effects—unleashed an economic shock, exacerbating hardship across the nation. At the same time, the abrupt devaluation of the naira sent purchasing power into free fall, making basic necessities unaffordable for millions of Nigerians.
We were promised palliatives to ease the hardship, yet they either never materialized or were so poorly executed that they provided little relief. The initial purchased optimism—however fragile—began to erode, replaced by a growing realization that Tinubu was being driven by impulse rather than foresight.
Stage #3. Frustration: When Survival Becomes a Daily Battle
Frustration is the stage where doubt turns into raw anger—when the suffering we feared would come actually arrives, and it becomes painfully clear that those in power have no intention of easing our pain. The illusion of governance fades, and we realize we are truly on our own.
In this stage under Tinubu, we felt it in our pockets first. His reckless policies sent food prices skyrocketing—rice, bread, garri, even the most basic meals become unaffordable luxuries overnight. Transportation costs double, then triple, making it harder to get to work—if we are even lucky enough to have jobs. Inflation crushes whatever hope we had of stability, while the naira’s collapse wiped out our purchasing power.
While we struggled to afford a single meal, Tinubu splurged $150 million on a brand-new presidential jet—an insult to a nation where millions can barely survive. His vice, Shettima, indulged in a luxury home renovation worth millions of dollars, as if governing a collapsing economy required marble floors and gold-plated fixtures.
Meanwhile, the National Assembly shamelessly allocated itself millions more in expense accounts, feasting on public funds while we starve. This is not leadership—it is looting in broad daylight, a brazen display of the elite’s utter contempt for the people they swore to serve.
At this stage, our frustration evolved into something more profound—a stark realization that we had been deceived once again. The “renewed hope” we embraced was nothing more than a carefully crafted illusion, designed to mask yet another cycle of failed leadership.
As our struggle intensified, the anger spread. We spoke out, we protested, we demanded answers. We got shot and many killed. Many more got arrested, and tortured. But deep down, we knew how this story usually ends—with more suffering, more excuses, and another round of the same failed leadership. And we sank deeper into our frustration.
Stage #4. Pessimism: When Hope Dies and We Expect Nothing
Pessimism is the stage where belief fades—not just in leaders, but in the very idea that Nigeria can change. Frustration gives way to exhaustion, and anger dissolves into quiet resignation. We no longer argue over policies or leadership because deep down, we already know the outcome. Nothing improves, and no one in power will ever save us.
Under Tinubu, this stage has been unmistakable. The daily struggle to survive feels like swimming against an unrelenting tide, with no shore in sight. Prices skyrocket while wages remain stagnant or unpaid, and businesses have crumbled without hope of recovery. Every policy announcement rings hollow, a predictable prelude to deeper hardship.
Tinubu’s speeches, detached and robotic, no longer inspire outrage—just weary indifference. We already know how this ends. His promises are empty, the solutions nonexistent, and the suffering inevitable. Worst of all, we’ve stopped being shocked. The cycle has broken our will, conditioning us to accept failure as the natural order.
Stage #5. Despair: When Survival Becomes the Only Goal
Despair is the stage where hopelessness consumes everything. It is when we realize that suffering is not just temporary—it is permanent, designed into the very fabric of our existence as Nigerians.
At this point, we no longer believe in change, justice, or leadership. We are simply trying to endure, trapped in a country that offers nothing but pain.
Under Tinubu, this stage has reached its peak. The promises of renewed hope have proven to be empty rhetoric, repeated only to pacify a starving population. Poverty is widespread, and starvation is no longer an abstract fear but a daily reality.
Millions of our fellow Nigerians struggle to afford even one meal a day, as food prices spiral beyond reach. Families watch helplessly as their children go to bed hungry, while those in power feast without shame.
We have been abandoned, left to navigate a nation that seems intentionally structured to perpetuate our suffering. The weight of despair has been suffocating, and with every passing day, it becomes harder to see a way out.
Stage#6. Blame: When We Look Everywhere Except at the Real Problem
Blame is the stage where, instead of holding political leaders directly responsible, we search for scapegoats. Faced with unbearable hardship and tribal divisions, we struggle to accept that the man who promised us renewed hope is the architect of our suffering.
So, we look elsewhere—blaming his advisers, rogue bureaucrats, or even shadowy external forces. This misdirected anger dilutes accountability, allowing failed leadership to persist while we fight among ourselves.
Under Tinubu, this stage has played out in full force. As Nigerians endure crushing poverty, some claim he is merely surrounded by bad advisers, absolving him of responsibility for the economic collapse unfolding under his watch.
Others insist that it is the fault of the civil service or the governors, as if Tinubu is powerless in the system he dominates. Some go even further, blaming Buhari’s administration, foreign economic policies, the World Bank or international conspiracies for Nigeria’s decline—anything but the reality staring us in the face: Tinubu.
Meanwhile, Tinubu’s government has eagerly encouraged this deflection, feeding narratives that shift blame onto past administrations or external forces. Instead of acknowledging their disastrous economic policies, they tell us that the hardship is necessary sacrifice for future prosperity.
And rather than confronting their own corruption, they insist that saboteurs within the system are undermining their efforts. They blame the victims.
Stage #7. Apathy: When We Stop Caring Because Nothing Changes
Apathy is the stage where disillusionment hardens into complete disengagement. It is when we no longer just doubt the system—we stop believing that our voices, votes, or actions can make any difference at all.
At this point, we withdraw from our civic responsibility, not because we don’t see the problems, but because we are convinced that nothing we do will ever change them. The focus shifts entirely to survival, because in a country that never listens, why bother speaking?
Under Tinubu, this apathy stage has deepened like never before. Nigerians who once debated passionately about governance now shrug in exhaustion. Conversations about politics are met with silence or bitter laughter. “Vote for who? What difference does it make?” has become the common response.
Many who once took to the streets now focus only on individual escape plans, hustling to survive or looking for a way out of the country. The idea of collective action feels like a distant dream, buried under years of betrayal and unfulfilled promises.
This is how the system has won and keeps winning—by wearing us down until we surrender, not in defeat, but in indifference. And as more of us checked out, those in power tightened their grip, unchallenged, knowing full well that we have given up on expecting anything better.
Stage #8. Manipulated Optimism: When False Hope Becomes a Tool of Control
This is the stage we are now going through.
Manipulated Optimism is the stage where politicians exploit our exhaustion, feeding us a carefully crafted illusion of progress to pacify our anger. By this point, the suffering is undeniable, but rather than take responsibility or implement real solutions, those in power resort to psychological warfare—telling us to be patient, to endure, to trust that things will improve. We become optimistic again.
The goal of this stage is not to solve our problems but to buy time, stringing us along with empty reassurances until frustration fades or fatigue sets in.
Under Tinubu, this stage is in full effect. His government, fully aware of its failures, has shifted from making bold promises to managing expectations.
The propaganda machine has been running in overdrive, flooding social media, TV, and print outlets with messages like “Be patient. Give our programs time to work. It will work.” These phrases are repeated like mantras, not because they are true, but because they are necessary to keep the masses compliant.
In recent weeks, this narrative has gained dangerous traction. Pro-government media outlets and influencers have amplified the call for patience, urging Nigerians to endure just a little longer. Rather than challenge the deceit, they enable it, spinning hardship into sacrifice and labeling critics as unpatriotic.
And so, the clock runs down while we wait for relief that will never come. By the time reality sets in, another election cycle will be near, and the game will begin again—new promises, new lies, and another round of manipulated optimism.
Stage #9. Submission: When Suffering Becomes a Way of Life
Submission is the stage where we no longer just endure suffering—we accept it as normal, even inevitable. After years of manipulation, broken promises, and relentless hardship, we stop resisting and simply adapt.
We tell ourselves that things will never change, that Nigeria has always been this way and always will be. This learned helplessness is reinforced by cultural and religious conditioning, ensuring that the system remains intact while we resign ourselves to fate.
Under Tinubu, this submission stage has deepened. His administration has perfected the art of keeping Nigerians exhausted, ensuring that survival takes precedence over resistance. The daily struggle we face leaves little room for political engagement.
Religious leaders, many of whom have been co-opted by the political class, reinforce this passivity. Church sermons and Friday prayers in mosques are filled with calls to “leave it to God” rather than challenge those responsible for our suffering.
Instead of demanding justice, we are told to endure, to pray, to wait for divine intervention. Meanwhile, those in power continue their excesses, knowing that as long as we remain submissive, their rule is secure.
This is how the status quo has survived since independence—by breaking us down until we accept oppression as destiny. We stop questioning, we stop resisting, and we adjust to suffering as if it were a natural state of existence.
Stage #10. Purchased Optimism (Again): The Cycle Resets
Purchased Optimism (Again) is the stage where the cycle of deception restarts, and once again, we are lured into believing that change is just one election away. After years of hardship, exhaustion, and despair, we become vulnerable to the same manipulative tactics—vote-buying, grand promises, and carefully orchestrated propaganda.
The politicians who have failed us suddenly resurface, now draped in new slogans, smiling as they distribute bags of rice and petty cash, pretending to be our saviors. And because we are desperate for relief, many of us convince ourselves that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.
Under Tinubu, the familiar script has already started unfolding two years from the 2027 elections. As the next election cycle looms, his allies and party loyalists have started rebranding their failures as necessary sacrifices for a brighter future. New promises are rolling out—polished, deceptive, and designed to pacify—assuring Nigerians that economic relief is just around the corner, if only we endure a little longer and grant Tinubu another four years.
Meanwhile, allegations swirl that Tinubu and the APC are actively manipulating internal divisions within the PDP and Labour Party, using financial influence to destabilize the opposition ahead of 2027, ensuring that the cycle of power remains unbroken.
We Must Break this Cycle
The first step to breaking this vicious cycle is recognizing it for what it is. Awareness is power, and it is both our individual and collective duty to expose these 10 stages to every Nigerian—farmers, traders, artisans, teachers, students, civil servants, professionals, and the unemployed alike.
We must ensure that no one remains blind to the tactics used to deceive, pacify, and oppress us. The more we understand, the harder it becomes for them to control us. Ignorance sustains our suffering; awareness is the first act of resistance. Share this, discuss it, challenge the lies, and refuse to be complicit in yet another cycle of failure. Change begins when we refuse to be fooled again.
Until then, the cycle will continue, ensuring that the promise of a better Nigeria remains just out of reach.
