MAZI EJIMOFOR OPARA
This political season feels different. The old participatory system is back, rolling in like a revamped vintage vehicle with all its original charm. The thrill is real, and the real owners of the Party are crawling out of their shells, reclaiming their rightful place.
It’s no longer an oligarchy or the closed circuit of a few kingmakers. It’s now a committee of the whole, where value is traded for value. The era of briefcase politicking is under threat, challenged by the rise of a new, people-centered establishment. The buzz has shifted from Party offices to village squares, markets, and motor parks. That once-neglected party member now commands real weight. Aspirants are no longer just courting Party leadership; they’re chasing the ordinary members who have become the new sheriffs in town.
This strategic shift in how candidates are selected has redistributed political resources and liberalized the political economy. The unseen forces that once decided who gets what, where, and how are no longer faceless cabals. It’s now that man or woman in the ward — with a name, a stake, and a vote that truly matters.
The SUVs and Hilux escort convoys are no longer parked at Party secretariats. They’re now at Nkwo, Orie, Afor, Eke, pulling up at the house of Mama Chika the akamu seller, whose husband is a palm wine tapper. Together with their seven adult children, they’ve become the MVPs — because they all belong to APGA, and they’ll be among the thousands who decide whether you get the Party’s ticket or not.
If that’s not a revolution, then you probably don’t know what one looks like.