Peace On Paper, Peril In Practice: Why 2027 Elections Remain At Risk

There is reassurance in political rivals signing a common promise of peace. Where elections have too often carried intimidation, inflammatory rhetoric and violence, the symbolism matters. It says political competition need not become warfare; opponents are adversaries, not enemies; and the pursuit of power must remain subordinate to the republic.

The National Peace Accord signed in Abuja on August 18, 2026, deserves to be welcomed. Facilitated by the National Peace Committee with The Kukah Centre, it commits political actors to peaceful, credible, free and fair elections, rejects violence and hate speech, and calls for impartiality from the electoral commission and professionalism from security agencies.

Nigeria must not mistake goodwill for an architecture of credible elections. A peace accord can establish a moral baseline. What it cannot do is neutralise structural inequalities embedded in the electoral environment.

The Limits of a Peace Pledge

The greatest threat to the next election may be quieter than spectacular fraud or election-day violence: the gradual tilting of the political field before voters arrive at polling units.

An opposition rally denied access to a stadium. A campaign permit delayed without explanation. Billboard charges raised beyond reasonable reach. State-owned media favouring incumbents. Government events becoming indistinguishable from campaign appearances. Security regulations applied rigorously to one political group and indulgently to another.

Each may appear administrative. Together, they can alter the character of an election.

This is electoral tilting: a democracy preserves the rituals of competition while weakening the substance of equality. Candidates remain on the ballot. Votes are counted. Yet the conditions under which those votes are sought may already have been distorted.

Elections are not made fair on election day alone.

Fairness begins earlier—with who may campaign freely, who can access public facilities, who receives reasonable media exposure and whether government respects the boundary between public office and partisan advantage. Once participation depends on administrative discretion, democracy risks becoming a permission economy in which those who control the state influence the conditions under which they are challenged.

A level ballot cannot compensate for an uneven field.

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The Architecture of Electoral Trust

The same principle applies to INEC. The electoral commission cannot command public confidence merely because the Constitution describes it as independent. Independence must be visible in its financing, operations, technology and decision-making.

Financial dependence creates vulnerability. Delayed funding can become delayed logistics; delayed logistics can become disenfranchisement.

The legal framework matters too. Nigeria entered the post-2023 electoral cycle with unresolved questions about electronic transmission, collation procedures and the evidentiary burden on petitioners challenging disputed outcomes. Where uncertainty persists between polling-unit results, electronic records and subsequent collation, mistrust grows. Where legal redress becomes exceptionally difficult, citizens may wonder whether remedies are genuinely accessible or merely available in theory.

This is why electoral reform cannot stop at purchasing machines.

BVAS and IReV can strengthen accreditation and transparency of results, but technology does not abolish politics. Systems can fail. Networks can become unavailable. Records can be contested. Disinformation can exploit technical uncertainty faster than official explanations can restore confidence.

Artificial intelligence raises the stakes further. Deepfakes, fabricated audio and coordinated disinformation can spread before fact-checkers or regulators respond. Digital campaigns can be designed not only to persuade voters, but to confuse or demobilise them.

Transparency is therefore a democratic necessity. Electoral technology must be resilient, independently auditable and supported by clear legal rules. Technology should reduce uncertainty, not become another arena in which uncertainty is weaponised.

Security agencies face an equally important test. The Peace Accord asks candidates to restrain their supporters. But restraint loses moral force if enforcement becomes selective.

When one rally receives protection and another faces disruption; when organisers fear harassment; or when journalists and campaign workers believe association with certain candidates carries personal risk, democratic space contracts.

Communities that distrust security agencies may stop reporting intimidation. Volunteers may withdraw. Journalists may self-censor. Participation narrows without any formal suspension of democratic rights.

Security neutrality must therefore be enforceable, not ceremonial. Rules of engagement should be public, complaints independently monitored and violations punished. State coercive power must never become partisan advantage.

From Ritual to Democratic Reform

Then there is incumbency. Holding office naturally confers advantages: visibility, public recognition and a record of governance to showcase. The danger begins when governing and campaigning become indistinguishable.

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Public advertising can become partisan messaging. Government programmes may be timed for electoral effect. Official travel may become political mobilisation. State infrastructure can quietly become campaign infrastructure.

The answer is not to freeze government during election season, but to establish an enforceable incumbency code that separates legitimate governance from partisan exploitation. Public office must never confer ownership of public resources.

The same discipline is required in political speech. In a country where political identities often intersect with ethnicity, religion and region, reckless rhetoric can turn ordinary competition into an existential confrontation. Once an election is framed as a struggle for communal survival rather than a choice between policies and competence, defeat becomes harder to accept and compromise more difficult.

The Peace Accord condemns hate speech, but signatures alone cannot control thousands of party officials, candidates, influencers and supporters. Its principles must travel downwards—from national headquarters to states, local governments, wards and communities. Parties must discipline their members, while civil society, traditional and religious leaders, youth groups and the media strengthen early-warning mechanisms for dangerous rhetoric.

The consequences of failure extend beyond the declaration of a winner. Repeatedly tilted elections deepen regional suspicion, increase political alienation and weaken attachment to constitutional processes. Electoral uncertainty raises political risk; political risk discourages investment. Most dangerously, a society that repeatedly doubts the fairness of elections may eventually begin doubting democracy itself.

Nigeria therefore needs more than election preparation. It needs an architecture of electoral fairness.

INEC should report transparently on logistics, technology and compliance. Governments should guarantee equal access to public facilities and state-owned media while separating official functions from partisan campaigning. Security agencies should publish neutrality protocols and accept credible oversight. Parties should answer for their supporters, while civil society and the media monitor campaign access, security conduct, financing and digital integrity.

None of this diminishes the Peace Accord. It gives it meaning.

Democracies need rituals. Signatures and public promises matter. But peace cannot rest on goodwill alone.

A peaceful election is not necessarily a credible election. There may be no gunshots at polling stations and yet citizens may still conclude that the field was unfair. Accurate counting cannot cure unequal conditions preceding the vote.

Electoral legitimacy is cumulative. It is built from confidence that candidates were free to compete, citizens were free to choose, institutions acted independently, security agencies remained neutral, technology worked transparently and the same rules applied regardless of who held power.

That is the real test before Nigeria in 2027: not simply whether politicians keep the peace, but whether institutions keep the field level.

The Peace Accord has placed an important promise on paper. The harder task is to build the institutions, rules and habits that make that promise real.

Because democracy demands more than peaceful competition.

It demands fair competition.

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– Dr Dakuku Peterside is the author of Leading in a Storm and Beneath the Surface.