Professor Emmanuel Dandaura is the Director of the Institute of Strategic and Development Communication, Nasarawa State University, Keffi. In this interview with LEO SOBECHI, he argues that without integrity, leaders cannot inspire people to greatness.
Given the behaviour of Nigerian politicians and the fact that politics reflects the fundamental culture of every modern society, do you think Nigeria’s leadership recruitment system embodies the country’s social norms?
Absolutely. Just as a river reflects the sky, our politics reflects our culture. If the sky is cloudy, the reflection cannot be clear. Nigeria’s leadership recruitment system reflects the deep structures of our society: loyalty to patrons, ethnic balancing, religious identity, and respect for seniority. These norms, while culturally rooted, often work against meritocracy and transparency. Leadership is often treated here as an inheritance, rather than a responsibility. We recruit leaders through the choreography of loyalty, not the contest of ideas. We respect hierarchy, which is part of our communal ethos, but it also means that younger, more competent voices are often sidelined. Until we re-engineer our political culture to reward integrity and performance over allegiance, our leadership process will continue to recycle the same breed of actors, not necessarily the best minds. I am always inclined to say that Nigeria doesn’t lack leaders; rather, it suffers from the wrong cultural filters that keep recycling the same breed. The social fabric needs more enlightenment.
A transaction-minded citizenry has contributed to the bane of leadership recruitment, but how do you explain the increase in sycophancy and entertainment-centred electoral campaigns?
It is like you are referring to vote-buying, but that is very much part of the main trouble. However, it is evident that the drumbeat of sycophancy has become louder than the whisper of conscience. Entertainment-centred campaigns are not a scheme to divert attention. They reflect our cultural norms. What you describe as entertainment-focused campaigns comes as a cultural adaptation. It mimics our traditional art of praise poetry (oriki, ewi, ikirende), although it seems to have been hijacked and politicised. In our politics today, oriki, an otherwise highly elevated art form in our traditional society, has been bastardised and given the garb of being antithetical to ideology. Meanwhile, in traditional contexts, artists were the conscience of society.
Today, corruption, largely driven by greed, has debased everything. Musicians who should be the conscience of the people now compete to out-praise one another in the corridors of power. Praise-singing has become the new currency of political access. But let us be clear on this: sycophancy does not show loyalty; it is the camouflage of opportunism. True leadership doesn’t need drummers. It needs doers and constructive criticism. When musicians play for politicians instead of echoing the people’s needs, governance becomes a carnival of deceit. We must return to the tradition where artists and intellectuals act as moral mirrors of society, not amplifiers of false glory. To some extent, it could be said that Nigerians have turned elections into concerts—light, sound, and empty lyrics. When politics becomes theatre, citizens become spectators, not stakeholders.
In the same vein, campaigns today often prioritise crowd-pulling and choreography over conversation and content. The result is a shallow electorate that votes based on emotion rather than evaluation. Voters who dance to campaign music often wake up to silent governance. Sadly, you discover that when the beat of entertainment replaces the rhythm of ideas, the culture of accountability dies. The electorate begins to expect less from leaders, as though politics were some form of circus rather than the public service it is meant to be. This trend numbs public debate and lowers expectations of leadership. It is partly why many citizens treat elections as equivalent to festivals instead of civic examinations. Democracy then becomes about vibes, not values. The circus continues.
In what other forms, or to what extent, does this recourse to sycophancy promote elite conspiracy against the masses?
The point I was trying to make is that sycophancy becomes the glue that holds the elite conspiracy together. Every time a leader rewards flattery, a nation loses a truth-teller. The result is a circle of comfort, where those who should speak truth to power become praise-singers to power. Even those who seem to be speaking the truth do so only for the simple reason that they have been left out of the dinner table. This is why we see a circus of leaders who appear pro-people at times become anti-people once they are entrusted with little power. Over the years, sycophancy has continued to thrive because many of our leaders are reluctant to hear the truth. In a system where truth becomes treason, the masses are short-changed. We end up with a system that creates a self-protecting bubble where decisions are made by a few who are insulated from the pain of the majority. The praise-singers get contracts; the critics get sidelined. The public gets poverty and propaganda. This is how sycophancy perpetuates poverty, mutates into silent oppression, and fans elite consensus against transparency. So, the recourse to sycophancy doesn’t just flatter the powerful; it isolates the people and blinds the system to reality.
What would you suggest as the best way to pursue citizen enlightenment and inclusivity in governance under a democratic dispensation?
The political parties and the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) have roles to play in this regard. Democracy without civic education is like giving a man a car without teaching him to drive. Enlightenment must begin at the grassroots, not as election-day sermons, but as everyday learning. We need civic education that explains not just how to vote, but why to vote; not just who to trust, but how to verify.
Media literacy must be mainstreamed so that citizens can distinguish between entertainment and information, and between deep fakes and reality. Inclusion is not charity; it is the oxygen of democracy. That means engaging youth, women, and the marginalised, not as foot soldiers but as co-authors of governance. We must shift from voter mobilisation to voter education. One builds turnout; the other builds transformation. A nation grows when citizens stop waiting for direction and start demanding accountability, when they move from consumers to co-creators.
As the challenge of getting youths involved has become acute, do you think music and entertainment offer feasible routes to involve young people in governance and public service?
Nigerian youths have attained great heights through musical expression. As such, music and entertainment are effective tools, but they are not the foundation. Entertainment can open the door, but only education can keep it open. If you reduce youth participation to dance and drama, you’ll get applause, not policy. The youth are not props for campaign jingles. They are, and should be, partners for national rebirth. Songs can awaken interest, but only inclusion can awaken responsibility. Engagement through art should inspire thought, not just thrill the crowd.
How do you think ethical reorientation of the Nigerian society can be achieved?
A crucial point. Ethical reorientation starts where excuses end. We don’t need new values; I think what we need more is to start living the values we already preach. Leadership must model the conduct it demands. When those at the top act right, it sends ripples down the system. As a public relations professional, I know that integrity is Africa’s most valuable resource. It is when we mine it again that prosperity will follow. We must revive civic and moral education, strengthen our institutions, and empower the media to celebrate integrity as loudly as it exposes corruption. National rebirth will not come from slogans but from self-discipline. This is why I appreciate the Nigeria Reputation Management Group and Rebirth Nigeria initiatives of the Nigerian Institute of Public Relations (NIPR) under the current leadership of Dr Ike Neliaku. These are bold initiatives to rebuild the core national values of integrity, honesty, and accountability to the people.
Indeed, the current effort by the NIPR to establish the world’s first University of Public Relations and Leadership is another pragmatic effort towards addressing the leadership and integrity deficit in Africa. Without integrity, leadership cannot inspire people to greatness. As I often remind my students: “The day we treat integrity as a qualification, not a decoration, Nigeria will rise.”
Do you have any closing reflections on the subject matter?
Well, yes. Nigeria’s democracy doesn’t suffer from a deficit of ideas; it suffers from a surplus of political theatrics. Our challenge is to rebuild the moral scaffolding that supports leadership and citizenship alike. If leadership has become theatre, then the people must stop clapping for bad actors. Every generation must decide whether to live by its excuses or by its ethics. That decision, ultimately, is what will determine the destiny of this nation.
