TDThe letter from Chief Rt Hon Barr Ben Chuks Nwosu, Chairman of the ADC’s MRMR (Membership Registration Mobilization, and Revalidation) Committee in Anambra State, represents a troubling example of how political parties in Nigeria continue to undermine genuine grassroots democracy through financial exploitation disguised as “support” and “solidarity.”
I have seen correspondence demanding that Major Stakeholder Chief Onyebuchi Uzor, specifically identified by his title and local government area (Ekwusigo LGA), and others pay N2,381,000 into a personal bank account—held under the name “Nwosu, Benson Chuks (Hon. Barr.)” at Zenith Bank—to cover the cost of purchasing membership cards for the entire local government.
This amount is framed as an “appeal” agreed upon by “Stakeholders,” with the justification tied directly to Peter Obi’s Anambra origins and his presidential ambitions under the ADC banner.
This approach is fundamentally flawed and objectionable on several levels.
First, it commodifies political participation. Membership in a political party should be voluntary, accessible, and driven by shared ideology or vision—not rationed by bulk purchases funded through levies on influential individuals.
The national leadership’s initial allocation of 50,000 cards per state (at a total cost of N50 million) already suggests a centralized, top-down model where access is limited unless supplemented by private funding.
In Anambra, where excitement around Peter Obi’s move to the ADC has reportedly led to a “massive influx” of members, the party should prioritize streamlining registration processes rather than creating artificial scarcity that wealthy stakeholders must pay to overcome.
Second, the demand reeks of elite capture and informal taxation.
By targeting a “major stakeholder” in a specific LGA and calculating a precise sum (N2,381,000) to supposedly cover “all persons of Voting Age” willing to join, the letter implies a pay-to-play system where influence and access are bought.
This is not solidarity; it is thinly veiled extortion under the guise of party-building.
Directing payment to an individual account rather than an official party treasury further raises red flags about transparency, accountability, and potential personal enrichment.
Third, linking this levy explicitly to Peter Obi’s presidential run exploits regional sentiment and loyalty in a cynical way.
While Anambra indigenes may naturally feel pride in supporting one of their own, turning that pride into a financial obligation for local leaders distorts genuine support into coerced financial contributions.
True political movements grow through persuasion and shared values, not through pressure on affluent members to bankroll mass card purchases.
This tactic risks alienating ordinary voters who see the party as favoring the wealthy and well-connected.
Moreover, such practices erode public trust in the ADC at a time when the party positions itself as a fresh alternative in Nigeria’s opposition landscape.
With high-profile figures like Peter Obi, Atiku Abubakar, and others associated with the party ahead of 2027, the focus should be on building credible, inclusive structures—not replicating the same money-driven politics that have plagued older parties.
If the ADC truly seeks to represent ordinary Nigerians and challenge the status quo, it must reject these kinds of fundraising schemes that prioritize bulk card buying over organic growth.
Membership drives should emphasize free or low-cost registration, digital accessibility, and ward-level engagement, not “first pay, first to collect” hierarchies funded by targeted donations from local big men.
This letter is not leadership; it is a symptom of the persistent commercialization of Nigerian politics.
Until parties like the ADC dismantle such exploitative mechanisms, claims of offering a “new Nigeria” will ring hollow.
Stakeholders—and especially figures like Peter Obi—should publicly distance themselves from these tactics to preserve credibility and demonstrate commitment to ethical politics.
