‘Ballots Alone Won’t Save Nigeria’: Investigative Journalist David Hundeyin Urges Strategic Resistance Ahead of 2027

 

A bold and controversial call has emerged from Nigerian investigative journalist and political commentator David Hundeyin, who has issued a scathing critique of the country's electoral system, warning that voting alone will not be sufficient to dislodge the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC) in the next general elections slated for 2027. In an emotionally charged public statement, Hundeyin urged opposition movements to rethink their strategy and prepare for what he calls "strategic violence" if they genuinely intend to reclaim political power from what he describes as a regime of "flesh-eating bacteria."

Hundeyin, known for his unfiltered takes on governance and international affairs, laid out his argument with brutal clarity. Drawing parallels between Nigeria’s recent electoral experiences and other African nations, he emphasized that elections on the continent—particularly in countries like Nigeria—are rarely won solely at the ballot box. His central thesis: votes must be enforced, not merely cast.

The 2023 Nigerian elections, according to Hundeyin, represented a watershed moment when millions came out to vote, believing change was possible through democratic means. Yet, despite significant support for opposition figures—most notably Peter Obi of the Labour Party—what followed, he argues, was an orchestrated subversion of the popular will. From compromised collation processes to a judiciary that appeared reluctant to challenge the status quo, Hundeyin asserts that the electorate "won the election and lost the objective."

To him, this wasn’t just an electoral loss. It was a failure of imagination and preparation. Echoing a sense of bitter disappointment, he claims that the political opposition fell into a trap—too visible, too vocal, and too reliant on digital activism that had no offline consequence. “Voting is only 35% of the job,” he states, pointing to the need for direct action that moves beyond public debates and symbolic gestures.

Hundeyin's message departs from the often idealistic narratives that dominate civic engagement discussions. Where most advocate patience, legal redress, and continued activism, he posits that these avenues are insufficient when up against a regime that views elections as ceremonial formalities rather than exercises in accountability.

His narrative takes a sharp turn when he recounts his observations of Ghana's most recent election. While often praised for its democratic maturity, Ghana, he says, won that status not through speeches or social media campaigns but through what he dubs “silent, controlled, and methodical violence.” According to him, the Ghanaian electorate did not allow electoral fraud to go unchecked. When signs of manipulation emerged, particularly at collation centres and through media distortions, he claims citizens deployed pre-planned resistance mechanisms, including physical enforcement, to ensure the integrity of the results.

Uniformed officers, faced with either enforcing fraudulent results or witnessing a potential nationwide revolt, made the rational choice to stand down and let the will of the people prevail. That, Hundeyin suggests, is the missing link in Nigeria's political struggle—creating the conditions under which power-holders are forced to acknowledge and respect the electoral outcome, even against their vested interests.

There is a chilling clarity in his tone when he warns that unless this dynamic changes, 2027 will merely repeat the political theater of 2023. Whether the opposition rallies behind Peter Obi, Atiku Abubakar, or a coalition of forces, Hundeyin argues that without a credible threat to the regime’s ability to subvert electoral outcomes, the next election will amount to little more than a symbolic exercise.

His prescription is as controversial as it is blunt: less talk, more covert action. He criticizes the public nature of Nigeria’s opposition organizing—pointing to Twitter Spaces, online campaigns, and press releases—as counterproductive. Not only are they easily monitored and disrupted, he says, but they also offer no real leverage against a regime uninterested in the rules of democratic engagement.

“Men properly collected that night,” he recalls of Ghana’s electoral showdown. It’s a stark metaphor suggesting that force—not eloquence—secured the people’s victory. That kind of preparedness, he insists, must define Nigeria’s approach in 2027.

Hundeyin does not mince words in his parting message. The choice, he claims, is not between Peter Obi or Atiku Abubakar; it is between wishful democracy and strategic confrontation. He presents it not as a call to chaos, but a pragmatic response to a broken system that rewards those who play dirty while punishing those who play fair.

As his message continues to circulate online, reactions are predictably polarized. Supporters hail his candour, calling it a necessary wake-up call in a country long numbed by electoral betrayals. Critics, however, accuse him of inciting unrest and promoting a dangerous brand of political vigilantism. Whether his warning becomes a turning point or just another controversial opinion in Nigeria’s turbulent political discourse remains to be seen.

But one thing is clear—David Hundeyin has thrown down the gauntlet, and the path to 2027 just got a lot more combustible.