In a political landscape often defined by regional power rotations, veteran journalist Dele Momodu has ignited fresh discourse on Nigeria’s democratic processes by declaring presidential zoning unconstitutional. His intervention comes at a pivotal moment as the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) confirms the zoning of its presidential ticket to the southern region, reawakening enduring questions about meritocracy versus regional representation in Nigeria’s highest office.
The concept of zoning has functioned as an informal but powerful organizing principle in Nigerian politics since the return to democratic rule in 1999. Originally conceived as a mechanism to ensure equitable power distribution among the country’s diverse ethnic and regional groups, this unwritten convention has shaped presidential nominations across major political parties. The PDP’s recent decision during its National Executive Committee meeting in Abuja to zone its presidential ticket to the South represents the latest chapter in this ongoing political tradition, one that Momodu argues fundamentally contradicts constitutional provisions governing electoral participation.
Momodu’s historical recollection provides critical context: “There was never a zoning. Yar’Adua died but PDP never insisted on power remaining in the North.” This reference to the 2010 transition following President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua’s death underscores the flexibility that has sometimes characterized these arrangements. Then-Vice President Goodluck Jonathan, a southerner, assumed the presidency despite Yar’Adua’s northern origins, subsequently winning the 2011 election. This precedent challenges rigid interpretations of zoning and demonstrates how political pragmatism has occasionally superseded regional rotation principles.
At the heart of Momodu’s argument lies a fundamental constitutional question: does Nigeria’s supreme law accommodate or prohibit regional zoning arrangements? The 1999 Constitution establishes qualifications for presidential candidates—including Nigerian citizenship by birth, minimum age of 35 years, education up to school certificate level, and membership in a political party—without any reference to regional or ethnic considerations.
Legal scholars remain divided on this issue. Some constitutional experts argue that while zoning isn’t explicitly mandated, it represents a political solution to Nigeria’s unique diversity challenges. Others maintain that any practice limiting candidacy based on regional origin potentially violates constitutional rights to equal participation. This tension between constitutional principles and political practicality continues to define Nigeria’s electoral landscape, with Momodu firmly planting his flag in the meritocracy camp.
Momodu’s mathematical breakdown of presidential tenure since 1999 provides compelling data to contextualize the zoning debate: “OBJ (8) + GEJ (5) + TINUBU (4) from 1999 to 2027 = 17 years out of 28 = 11 years to the North.” These figures reveal that if President Bola Tinubu completes his term, the South will have held the presidency for 17 years compared to the North’s 11 since the Fourth Republic began.
This numerical analysis challenges perceptions of northern dominance in the presidency and raises questions about whether zoning remains necessary to ensure regional balance. The calculation also implicitly questions whether the original purpose of zoning—to guarantee equitable representation—has been achieved or whether the mechanism has become an obstacle to selecting the most qualified leadership.
The PDP’s zoning decision must be understood within the context of competitive party politics. As the main opposition party seeking to regain relevance, the PDP faces the delicate task of balancing internal regional interests with electoral viability. By zoning its ticket to the South, the party may be calculating that a southern candidate presents its best chance against the incumbent administration.
However, Momodu’s critique suggests that such calculations might ultimately undermine both democratic principles and electoral success. His position implies that parties should prioritize candidate competence and broad appeal over regional considerations, especially as Nigeria faces complex challenges requiring the most capable leadership regardless of origin.
Central to Momodu’s thesis is the conviction that “every competent and qualified Nigerian should have a chance to run for the highest office.” This perspective prioritizes individual capability over geographic origin, suggesting that Nigeria’s development challenges require the most skilled leadership without artificial constraints.
Proponents of this view argue that zoning has sometimes resulted in the elevation of mediocre candidates who benefit primarily from regional rotation rather than exceptional qualifications. They contend that a truly competitive process open to all qualified Nigerians would produce stronger leadership and more accountable governance.
Momodu’s reference to the PDP’s handling of the Yar’Adua-Jonathan transition provides a revealing historical case study. After Yar’Adua’s death in 2010, the PDP did not insist on retaining power in the North but supported Jonathan’s candidacy in the 2011 election. This decision demonstrated that political expediency and existing power dynamics could override zoning arrangements when circumstances demanded.
This precedent suggests that while zoning operates as a general guideline, it remains subject to negotiation and modification based on contemporary political realities. The flexibility exhibited in 2010-2011 contrasts with the more rigid application of zoning principles in other election cycles, revealing the concept’s ultimately informal and non-binding nature.
As Nigeria continues to navigate this complex debate, the tension between regional representation and merit-based leadership selection remains unresolved. Momodu’s intervention highlights the evolving nature of this discussion amid changing political demographics and emerging national challenges.
