Whatever is left of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), once the biggest political party in Africa, appears to already be in the coffin, waiting only for the ceremonial rites before it is lowered into the ossuary of history. From the look of things, it is doubtful that the party that once boasted of ruling Nigeria for 60 years would even be on the ballot in the 2026 Ekiti governorship election, let alone present a formidable front in the 2027 general elections. It is unfortunate, tragic even, for a party that once defined the tempo of politics to perish without even a fight.
The PDP’s woes are no longer episodic but systemic, rooted in a culture of impunity, poor conflict resolution, lack of ideological clarity, and unrelenting factionalism. At the core of its current turmoil is the crisis surrounding its national leadership—a saga that has left the PDP’s Wadata Plaza national secretariat a ghost of its former self, both literally and symbolically.
Just when it seemed that light had finally appeared at the end of the tunnel—particularly after the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) openly embarrassed the party recently, the PDP had what could have been a golden opportunity to put its house in order. But instead, that moment was once again sacrificed on the altar of ego, parochial ambitions, and political treachery. Rather than compromise for collective survival, key actors within the party have chosen the path of mutual annihilation and self-destruction.
Where is the spirit of compromise, which is supposed to be the soul of politics? With major elections in sight, one would expect the party’s leaders to find common ground and forge a united front. But their actions—or lack thereof—reveal an alarming indifference, as if losing has become such a regular feature that they have forgotten how it feels to win. The PDP is like a once-mighty elephant that now drags itself forward—one step forward, two steps backwards—progressing in error.
To truly understand the gravity of the PDP’s crisis, it will help to look back at its fall from grace. The seeds of its decline were sown well before its electoral loss in 2015. The party had by then become an embodiment of everything wrong with Nigerian politics: imposition of candidates, internal sabotage, godfatherism, and an absence of ideological cohesion. Its 2015 defeat to the All Progressives Congress (APC) wasn’t just a political loss—it was a referendum on years of misrule, disconnect from the grassroots, and self-inflicted wounds.
Since then, the PDP has lurched from one crisis to another. From the Ahmed Makarfi–Ali Modu Sheriff legal imbroglio that lasted over a year, to the bitter fallout from the 2023 presidential primaries which saw Nyesom Wike and his G5 governors turn against the party’s candidate, Alhaji Atiku Abubakar, the PDP has remained mired in an endless vortex of disunity.
At the heart of the PDP’s malaise is its failure to establish credible internal mechanisms for conflict resolution. Every disagreement snowballs into litigation or defection. While the APC is far from being a perfect political party, it has—at critical moments—managed to cobble together a façade of unity, especially during elections. Its recent success in managing the Muslim-Muslim ticket controversy and holding its ground despite internal friction speaks volumes.
In contrast, the PDP seems addicted to self-destruction. Its National Working Committee (NWC) is often accused of acting in the interest of powerful individuals rather than the collective good. The recent leadership tussle following the suspension of Dr Iyorchia Ayu as national chairman and replacement with Umar Damagum exposed the deep fault lines in the party, with different factions laying claim to legitimacy.
Some have suggested that the party’s crisis is externally induced, pointing fingers at the ruling APC and even alleging Presidential involvement in weakening the PDP ahead of 2027.
This narrative is not entirely far-fetched, given Nigeria’s history of power politics and intelligence-driven opposition sabotage.
However, while such a conspiracy theory may hold emotional appeal for some loyalists, it doesn’t absolve the PDP of its failures. The APC has its demons to battle—ethnic balancing, zoning controversies, and a fragile alliance between its legacy parties—but it has managed to stay electorally viable through structured compromise and ruthless pragmatism.
The truth, however, is that the PDP didn’t die today. It died long ago—before the doctors realized its condition was terminal. The party died when it abandoned its founding principles of inclusiveness and internal democracy. It died when it began to recycle the same candidates and tactics that led to its initial fall. It died when younger voices were ignored, and the promise of reform turned into an endless cycle of excuses.
What remains of the PDP is but a cadaver—an empty shell being wheeled around on a political gurney. Occasionally, it convulses, as if to deceive onlookers that life is still within. But anyone who has closely followed the trajectory of Nigeria’s political evolution knows the PDP is in its twilight. If by 2026 or 2027 it does manage to make the ballot, it may do so merely as a ceremonial participant—devoid of muscle, morale, or meaning.
