After 26 years of uninterrupted democracy, Nigeria’s legislative arm has passed landmark laws and occasionally checked executive power, yet oversight remains weak, constituency representation inadequate, and gender inclusion minimal. Despite progress, the National Assembly still struggles to meet citizens’ expectations of accountability, responsiveness, and inclusivity. Sunday Aborisade reports.
Twenty-six years after Nigeria’s return to democracy, the National Assembly remains one of the most visible symbols of the country’s democratic experiment. The legislature was restored in June, 1999 as part of the 1999 Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria after years of military decrees and authoritarian governance.
Its existence is supposed to embody checks and balances, provide a platform for citizens’ voices, and act as a shield against executive excesses. But a quarter of a century on, the question that dominates public discourse is whether this institution has truly lived up to the expectations of Nigerians who longed for a representative democracy. The record is mixed, combining moments of courage and reform with deep-seated weaknesses, contradictions, and failures.
Human rights lawyer, Femi Falana (SAN) has been one of the sharpest voices pointing out the legislature’s failings. He often stresses that the National Assembly suffers from a fundamental lack of institutional memory, where successive assemblies fail to build on prior work and instead repeatedly reintroduce similar bills and reforms. To him, this undermines progress and wastes scarce national resources. Beyond legislative recycling, he has consistently called out the Assembly for failing to enforce compliance by state governments with critical federal laws such as the Compulsory Free Universal Basic Education Act and the Child Rights Act. According to him, the legislature is content with passing laws on paper while ignoring the hard work of ensuring implementation, leaving millions of children out of school despite constitutional guarantees.
Falana also spares no words in criticising what he considers insensitive and wasteful appropriation by lawmakers. At different times, he has condemned the purchase of luxury vehicles and the approval of large sums of money as “palliatives” for members, even as ordinary Nigerians face grinding poverty. He equally challenges what he sees as legislative overreach, accusing the Assembly of sometimes straying beyond its constitutional mandate, citing the controversial Hate Speech Bill as an instance where it sought to legislate on matters outside federal competence.
Civil rights activist, Aisha Yesufu, had on several instances, taken a different but no less scathing angle. For her, the very structure of Nigeria’s legislature is part of the problem. She had argued that the country must consider abolishing the Senate and moving to a unicameral legislature or even adopting a parliamentary system of government. Her reasoning is grounded in cost, efficiency, and democratic effectiveness. She often describes the Senate as a “retirement home” for former governors who did little to transform their states but now occupy prestigious legislative seats largely for status rather than service. To Yesufu, the current bicameral system is redundant and too expensive, sustaining a political elite more concerned with allowances and privileges than the hard task of governance reform.
Also, former Senator Shehu Sani, now a prominent public commentator, has also contributed to the debate, though in a broader sense. He frequently reflects on the distance between Nigeria’s democratic ideals and its actual practice. His commentaries highlight the legislature’s weak commitment to accountability and transparency. In his view, citizens who hoped that democracy would make government more responsive have instead witnessed a system where lawmakers sometimes act more as defenders of the political class than as champions of the electorate. His interventions remind Nigerians that while the country celebrates the longevity of its democracy, the deeper values of accountability, good governance, and service remain fragile.
There are, however, achievements that even critics acknowledge. Some journalists and legislative rights advocates had at one time or the other, documented some of the legislature’s most notable moments.
The rejection of former President Olusegun Obasanjo’s controversial third-term bid remains one of the high points of legislative courage, demonstrating that at critical junctures, the National Assembly can resist executive overreach. Similarly, the passage of the Niger Delta Development Commission Act, even overriding a presidential veto, was a bold assertion of legislative independence. The institution has also been responsible for important reforms in the Fourth Republic, including the Not Too Young To Run constitutional amendment which lowered the age for elective offices, the Petroleum Industry Act which restructured the governance of Nigeria’s oil sector, and the Freedom of Information Act which gave citizens a legal basis to demand access to government records. These achievements show that despite shortcomings, the Assembly has had moments of real impact.
Over the years, legislative productivity has also increased. The 8th and 9th Assemblies in particular passed a larger number of bills than their predecessors. The legislature has experimented with innovations such as televised plenaries, more frequent public hearings, and a bill-by-bill process of constitutional amendment that avoids the all-or-nothing approach that once stalled reforms. These processes have made legislative work more visible and in some cases more participatory.
Yet, alongside these achievements lie weaknesses that continue to erode public confidence. Critics insist that the National Assembly too often acts as a rubber stamp of the executive. Some Senior Advocates of Nigeria and the Nigerian Bar Association had in the past, had to argue that lawmakers are reluctant to exercise their constitutional powers of veto override or to insist on compliance with court orders, thereby enabling executive impunity. For them, the legislature appears more concerned with preserving relationships with the presidency and the ruling party than with defending the rule of law.
The high cost of governance is another recurring charge. With bicameral chambers, massive allowances, constituency projects, and expensive administrative structures, the legislature is often portrayed as an elite club detached from the economic hardships of ordinary Nigerians. This perception deepens when lawmakers are seen approving billions for personal benefits while citizens struggle with inflation, insecurity, and unemployment. The cost problem is worsened by duplication of functions between the Senate and the House of Representatives, leading some reform advocates to suggest streamlining or restructuring the system altogether.
Another chronic weakness is the lack of institutional memory and policy continuity. Bills and reforms are often recycled, with little attention to building on earlier debates or implementation reports. Many important laws exist on paper but are not enforced, turning the Assembly into a body that produces legal frameworks without the political will to monitor their execution. This reinforces the idea that legislators are more focused on the symbolism of lawmaking than on its substantive impact.
The problem of overreach also surfaces periodically. Attempts to legislate on issues within state jurisdiction or outside federal competence create uncertainty and sometimes provoke legal disputes. The controversial Hate Speech Bill is often cited as an example of how far the legislature can stray into areas where it lacks authority.
Perhaps the most corrosive weakness is the deficit of public trust. From controversies over budget padding to the opaque management of allowances and constituency projects, citizens view the legislature as secretive and self-serving.
The frequent turnover of members compounds this problem, as many lawmakers spend their early years learning the ropes rather than advancing serious policy reform. Committees, which should serve as engines of legislative oversight, are often under-resourced and lack professional research staff, leaving them vulnerable to executive manipulation.
Despite these weaknesses, the question remains: what can be done to make the National Assembly live up to the lofty expectations of 1999? Analysts suggest a number of reforms.
Strengthening oversight is critical, with committees given adequate resources and independence to investigate executive actions. Structural reforms must also be considered, including a serious national conversation about whether Nigeria needs a bicameral legislature or whether a leaner, unicameral system would serve citizens better.
Building institutional memory is essential, with proper archives and research services to ensure successive assemblies build on existing work.
Transparency is another area demanding urgent attention, with lawmakers needing to open up their budgets, allowances, and constituency spending to public scrutiny.
Above all, legislative priorities must shift toward pro-people laws that tackle poverty, insecurity, education, and health rather than symbolic or self-serving measures.
Capacity building for lawmakers and staff remains another necessity, equipping them with the skills to draft laws, interpret constitutional provisions, and conduct effective oversight. Regrettably, recently, the Director General of the National Institute for Legislative and Democratic Studies (NILDS), Prof. Abubakar Sulaiman, raised the alarm that federal legislators in Nigeria prefer overseas training that had less impact on their roles instead of embracing NILDS, owned by them, which had all it takes to equip them with necessary skills to carry out their legislative duties, more efficiently.
The rule of law must be respected in all legislative activity, with members avoiding both selective obedience to court judgments and unconstitutional overreach. Ethical conduct and cost control must also guide legislative behaviour, with lawmakers setting the example of prudence they expect from other arms of government.
Two and a half decades into democracy, Nigerians can point to some undeniable gains: a legislature that has functioned without interruption, landmark reforms that have reshaped aspects of governance, and a greater degree of public engagement with parliamentary processes. Yet, for every gain there remains a stubborn shortfall. Executive dominance persists, implementation of laws is weak, and public trust in lawmakers is fragile. For many citizens, life has not significantly improved despite the flurry of legislative activity. Poverty, insecurity, and unemployment continue to overshadow the democratic process.
The National Assembly has therefore provided Nigeria with democracy’s outward form, but it has yet to fully deliver its inner substance.
The challenge now is whether the legislative arm of government can transform itself from an institution often perceived as self-serving into one that genuinely protects the interests of citizens, strengthens the rule of law, and deepens Nigeria’s democratic culture.
Until that transformation occurs, the debate over whether the legislature has lived up to expectations will remain unresolved, suspended between the progress that has been made and the promises that are still waiting to be fulfilled.
