“Nigeria’s democracy has matured enough to insist on systems that are transparent, verifiable, and resistant to tampering.”
By: Daniel Kanu
The recent drama in the House of Representatives over the Electoral Act (Amendment) Bill, 2025, is more than a legislative disagreement.
It is a defining moment for Nigeria’s democracy.
What began as a progressive push by the House to mandate strict, real-time electronic transmission of election results to the Independent National Electoral Commission’s (INEC) portal has now been watered down in a harmonised version that permits manual transmission where electronic uploads “fail.”
This reversal—engineered after a conference with the Senate—triggered outrage, a walkout by opposition lawmakers, and a closed-door session to douse tensions.
But beyond parliamentary theatrics lies a deeper issue: trust.
Let us recall that electronic transmission of results was introduced to curb a long-standing plague in Nigeria’s elections—manipulation of results between polling units and collation centres.
The deployment of technology, particularly through the INEC Result Viewing Portal (IREV), offered citizens the ability to independently verify results as uploaded from polling units.
For the first time in decades, Nigerians began to believe that their votes might actually count.
It was a major reason more Nigerians registered and trooped out to vote in the 2023 elections.
That unique opportunity for Nigerians’ votes to count in choosing their leaders was, however, undermined by what Professor Mahmood Yakubu described as a “glitch.”
Nigerians also witnessed how Mr. Peter Obi, the presidential candidate of the Labour Party (LP), was not declared president, a development that remains the subject of intense public debate.
The truth is that mandating strict real-time electronic transmission is not about convenience.
It is about credibility. It is about preventing the infamous “midnight adjustments,” the disappearance of result sheets, and the opaque collation processes that have repeatedly undermined electoral integrity.
The manual loophole
supporters of the revised clause argue that Nigeria’s telecommunications infrastructure remains uneven, not fully developed.
They point to remote areas where network coverage is unreliable, warning that rigid electronic transmission requirements could disenfranchise voters if uploads fail.
No doubt, that concern deserves consideration—but, given Nigeria’s history, it could easily become a gateway for abuse.
History shows that “exceptions” in Nigeria’s electoral process often become the rule.
A manual fallback provision—poorly defined and weakly supervised—creates a dangerous loophole.
In a country where election petitions frequently cite irregularities in result collation, allowing manual transmission alongside electronic processes risks reintroducing the very vulnerabilities technology was meant to eliminate.
The burden should be on the state to fix infrastructure—not on citizens to accept compromised transparency.
The controversy has inevitably drawn attention to the leadership of the National Assembly, particularly Senate President Godswill Akpabio and Speaker Tajudeen Abbas.
While legislative compromise is part of democratic governance, any move that appears to dilute electoral safeguards will understandably attract suspicion in a country with a long history of disputed polls.
We should not forget that public confidence in our elections is fragile.
Actions that suggest a retreat from transparency—even if technically justified—risk reinforcing widespread cynicism that political elites are more comfortable with pliable systems than with rigid, technology-driven accountability.
Nigeria cannot afford that perception.
Technology is not the enemy—impunity is.
Nigeria is not alone in deploying electronic transmission.
Democracies across Africa and beyond are embracing technology to secure electoral integrity.
Of course, challenges exist—but the solution lies in investment, training, redundancy systems, and improved connectivity.
The answer is not to preserve manual pathways that can be exploited.
If network failure is a genuine concern, lawmakers should mandate satellite backup systems, offline encrypted uploads that synchronise once connectivity is restored, and strict auditing mechanisms—not broad manual alternatives that undermine the spirit of reform.
The reality is that the stakes are high for 2027.
As the 2027 general elections approach, Nigeria stands at a crossroads. Will it deepen technological reforms that enhance transparency? Or will it retreat into ambiguity under the guise of practicality?
Mandating strict real-time electronic transmission of results is not a partisan demand.
It is a democratic imperative.
Lawmakers must recognise that electoral legitimacy is the bedrock of national stability.
Any reform perceived as weakening safeguards against manipulation will only heighten political tension and erode public trust.
Nigeria’s democracy has matured enough to insist on systems that are transparent, verifiable, and resistant to tampering.
The National Assembly must rise to the moment—not retreat from it.
Real-time electronic transmission should not be optional. It should be the law.
