How Flatterers Are Flattening The Tyres Of Nigeria’s Democracy -By Isaac Asabor

Metaphorically put, democracy, like a vehicle, needs all its tyres properly inflated to move in the right direction. When one tyre loses pressure, movement becomes difficult. When several tyres are flat, the vehicle may still have a powerful engine, but it will struggle to go anywhere. Nigeria’s democracy appears to have a similar problem.

The engine is running. Elections are being conducted. Political parties exist. Legislatures sit. Governments are inaugurated. Politicians make speeches. Citizens vote. Yet, beneath all this outward movement, something essential is steadily losing pressure: “accountability”.

And among those helping to deflate it are the flatterers. Nigeria has always had traditions of praise, storytelling and oral history. Across different cultures, praise-singers have celebrated heroes, preserved genealogies, recounted achievements and honoured leaders. Praise, in its proper context, can be an important expression of culture and communal memory.

But what was once rooted in history and cultural responsibility has, in some political circles, degenerated into something considerably less noble. This is as flattery has become political currency.

Some Nigerians no longer merely support politicians. They worship them. They do not simply acknowledge achievements; they manufacture greatness. They do not ask questions; they provide excuses. They do not demand accountability; they attack anyone who dares to demand it.

A politician commissions a road and the praise-singers proclaim him a transformational genius. Another distributes food or cash to constituents and is celebrated as though he personally rescued the entire community from poverty. A legislator secures a relatively modest intervention and suddenly becomes the “best representative” the constituency has ever produced.

Even where performance is mediocre, the applause can be deafening. This is not harmless political theatre. It is one of the subtle ways accountability is being weakened in Nigeria. The flatterer understands the political marketplace very well. He knows that honesty can close doors while adulation can open them. He knows that telling a politician uncomfortable truths may earn him nothing, while praising the politician extravagantly may produce invitations, patronage, appointments, contracts, cash gifts, vehicles and privileged access.

In an economy where many people are struggling to survive, the temptation is obvious. Praise the man who controls the resources. Defend him when he is criticized. Celebrate him when he performs. Celebrate him even more when he does not perform. And, if necessary, attack those asking inconvenient questions. Thus, the political flatterer survives the biting economy, and remain a person whose loyalty is often less about principle than proximity to power.

The real tragedy, however, is not that flatterers exist. Political sycophancy has existed for centuries. The tragedy is that some politicians have become so accustomed to the applause that they increasingly mistake it for evidence of good governance.

Unfortunately, a leader surrounded by flatterers lives in a dangerous echo chamber. Outside the walls of government, citizens may be complaining about hunger, unemployment, insecurity, poor roads, inadequate healthcare, failing schools, electricity shortages and rising living costs. Inside the political bubble, however, the message may be completely different. “You are doing wonderfully.” “You are the best.” “Nobody has performed like you.” “Your enemies are only jealous.” “Those criticizing you are sponsored.”

Given the foregoing backdrop, the result is predictable. The leader stops listening. And when leaders stop listening, governments stop learning. This is where flattery becomes more than an annoying social habit. It becomes a threat to democracy.

Democracy is built on disagreement. It requires citizens to question authority, journalists to investigate government, opposition parties to challenge those in power, civil society to scrutinize public institutions and legislators to interrogate executive actions.

A healthy democracy needs people who can say “no”. But the political flatterer says “yes” to almost everything. If a policy fails, he finds someone else to blame. If a project is abandoned, he calls it an ongoing achievement. If citizens complain, he describes them as ungrateful. If journalists raise questions, he accuses them of being enemies. If opposition politicians criticize the government, he dismisses the criticism without examining its substance. In such an environment, facts become less important than loyalty. And once loyalty becomes more valuable than truth, democracy begins to lose air.

The arrival of social media has made the situation even more troubling. The traditional praise-singer needed a drum, a musical instrument, a stage or proximity to the palace. Today’s political flatterer needs little more than a smartphone, an internet connection and an appetite for political patronage. TikTok, Facebook, X and other platforms have created a new generation of digital praise-singers.

Some produce carefully packaged videos glorifying politicians. Others flood social media with flattering narratives. Some defend every government decision regardless of its merits. Others specialize in attacking critics, opposition politicians, journalists and civil society activists.

The political praise-singing industry has therefore moved from the town square to cyberspace. It now operates around the clock. A politician can wake up in the morning to hundreds of social media posts describing him as a political genius, even when the facts on the ground tell a different story. This is particularly dangerous because repeated propaganda can eventually create the illusion of public approval.

The politician sees trending hashtags, flattering videos and enthusiastic supporters online and may conclude that the people are satisfied. Meanwhile, the ordinary citizen may be asking a completely different question: “Where is the promised development?”

That question should matter more than a thousand flattering posts. Nigerians must therefore learn to distinguish between “recognition and sycophancy”.

There is nothing wrong with praising a leader who performs well. Indeed, citizens should recognize good governance. A governor who builds quality roads should be commended. A legislator who genuinely improves his constituency should be recognized. A president whose policies produce measurable improvements should receive credit. But praise should never become a substitute for scrutiny.

The proper attitude of a supporter should be: “You have done well here; now do better there.” Unfortunately, the attitude of the flatterer is: “Everything you do is wonderful.” That distinction may appear small, but it is enormous. The first strengthens democracy. The second weakens it.

Politicians themselves must also accept responsibility for this culture. A leader cannot complain about sycophancy while rewarding nothing but sycophancy. If politicians punish honest criticism and reward extravagant praise, they should not be surprised when everyone around them eventually learns to flatter.

Therefore, leaders must deliberately create room for dissenting voices. They must be willing to hear that a policy is failing, that a project is substandard, that citizens are angry or that public money is not being properly managed.

The person who tells a leader an uncomfortable truth may be doing more for that leader than the person who spends hours composing extravagant tributes. Unfortunately, Nigerian political culture often rewards the latter.

This brings the responsibility back to the citizens. Nigerians must stop measuring political performance by access.

A person who regularly shakes hands with a governor is not necessarily an important citizen. A person who receives gifts from a politician is not necessarily evidence of good governance. A person who gets a government appointment or contract should not automatically become a permanent defender of everything the government does.

In fact, public office is not a private favour. Politicians are entrusted with public resources and authority. They should therefore be judged by measurable results, not by the number of people singing their praises. How many quality schools were built? How many functional hospitals were delivered? How many roads were constructed and maintained? How many jobs were created? How transparent was public spending? Did the security situation improve? Did citizens’ standard of living improve? These are the questions that matter. Not how many musicians performed at the governor’s birthday. Not how many influencers posted flattering photographs. Not how many people described a politician as “the best”. Nigeria’s democracy needs fewer political cheerleaders and more critical citizens.

In fact, Nigeria’s democracy needs journalists who will continue to ask uncomfortable questions. It needs civil society organizations willing to challenge abuse of power. It needs opposition parties capable of offering credible alternatives rather than merely exchanging insults with those in government. It needs young Nigerians who understand that political participation is about more than defending whichever politician happens to be fashionable online.

Above all, it needs citizens who understand that criticism is not betrayal. A politician is not an enemy because someone asks him to account for public funds. A governor is not being persecuted because citizens complain about poor roads. A legislator is not being attacked simply because constituents demand an explanation for unfulfilled promises.

To throw insight into the foregoing view, it is germane to opine that accountability is not hostility. It is the oxygen of democracy. That is why the flatterers are doing more damage than they may realize. Every time a poor policy is defended simply because it was introduced by a preferred politician, another little bit of democratic pressure disappears. Every time a legitimate critic is bullied into silence, another tyre loses air. Every time citizens celebrate a politician for doing what he was elected and paid to do, rather than demanding more, another valve is loosened. And when enough tyres are flattened, even the most powerful political vehicle will struggle to move.

To be honest in this context, Nigeria does not need a culture in which politicians are constantly told how wonderful they are. It needs a culture in which leaders are constantly reminded that power is temporary and performance is measurable. Praise should follow performance, not replace it.

The true patriot is not necessarily the person shouting the loudest praises for a politician. Sometimes, the true patriot is the citizen who loves his country enough to tell a popular leader: “You are getting this wrong.” That voice may not receive a handshake, a contract, a cash gift or a political appointment. But it may save the vehicle. And Nigeria’s democracy urgently needs those voices before the tyres are completely flat.