Nigeria is indeed a very funny society when it comes to politics.
A politician will tell you, “Vote for me.” Another will ask, “Do people from your community, your association, your church, your mosque, your street or your ethnic group actually come out to vote?”
But there is a deeper question that deserves attention: What matters more to a political candidate — your individual vote or your ability to influence hundreds of other people to vote?
This question becomes even more important at a time when voter participation in Nigeria has been declining with each election cycle.
According to the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC), presidential-election turnout fell from 53.7% in 2011 to 43.6% in 2015, 34.7% in 2019 and just 26.7% in 2023. INEC itself has described the continuing decline in voter turnout as a serious concern for Nigeria's democracy.
The numbers are striking.
Nigeria had about 93.47 million registered voters ahead of the 2023 general election, yet only about 25.3 million voters were accredited for the presidential election. That means roughly three out of every four registered voters did not participate.
So, imagine the political value of someone who can persuade people to participate.
Yes, your individual vote matters. One vote can contribute to the final outcome, particularly in closely contested elections. Every election ultimately consists of individual votes, and democracy cannot function without citizens exercising their franchise.
But there is another form of political influence that is often underestimated: the ability to mobilise and persuade other voters.
Consider two people.
The first person votes for a candidate and goes home.
The second person may not even vote personally, but spends weeks speaking to family members, friends, colleagues, community members and young people, convincing them that participating in the election matters. If that person successfully influences 50, 100 or 500 people to vote, the political impact could be significantly larger than his or her single ballot.
Which person would a serious politician prefer to have on their side?
If I were a political candidate, I would probably look beyond the question of “How many votes can you personally cast?”
I would ask:
How many people can you influence?
How many people listen to you?
How many people trust your judgment?
How many people can your words persuade to reconsider their political choices?
How many voters can you mobilise to actually show up on election day?
That is where influence becomes a political currency.
This does not mean that people should abandon voting themselves. Quite the opposite. The strongest combination is to vote and encourage others to vote.
But the broader lesson is that political participation is not limited to standing in a queue at a polling unit and dropping a ballot.
It also happens in conversations.
It happens in communities.
It happens on social media.
It happens in workplaces, families, associations and neighbourhoods.
A person with a relatively small personal political footprint may possess an enormous network effect if people genuinely listen to them.
And that is why politicians should not only be asking, “Will you vote for me?”
They should also be asking:
“Who listens to you?”
Because in an election where only about 27% of registered voters participated in 2023, the person capable of persuading disengaged citizens to return to the ballot box could be more politically valuable than someone who simply promises to cast one vote.
Ultimately, democracy is not merely about the number of people who vote.
It is also about the number of people who can inspire others to believe that their vote matters.
And perhaps that is the real political power many politicians have yet to fully understand: your vote gives you a voice, but your influence can give that voice an audience.
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