Why Osun State needs more than just e-results

OSUN State’s gubernatorial election was a “tsunami” of tenacity; it was also a warning. If Nigeria continues to allow the cost of power to rise, we risk a future in which only the highest bidder gains access to our institutions. Excellence in governance is the only way to break this cycle—because elections are temporary, but development remains. The Osun election of 15 August 2026 is now history. Governor Ademola Adeleke has secured his mandate with 511,067 votes, successfully holding off the APC’s Bola Oyebamiji, who polled 444,815. Supporters have celebrated, and political actors have moved on. However, if we treat this simply as a closed chapter, we miss the most vital diagnosis of our current democracy. Osun was a victory for procedural transparency, yet it confirmed that we remain trapped in systemic financial corruption.

Osun offered us a “transparency paradox”. On one hand, the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) achieved a remarkable technical milestone. Monitoring by the Centre for Journalism Innovation and Development (CJID) confirmed that by the morning after the election, 98.06 per cent of polling-unit results were publicly available on the IReV portal. This was not merely a performance metric; it was a systemic success that largely curtailed the traditional manipulation of result sheets at collation centres. Yiaga Africa’s independent projection confirmed that the INEC figures accurately reflected the ballots cast. Yet, this triumph of process only served to highlight the decay of practice. While we succeeded in counting the votes, we failed to prevent vote-buying. Reports of vote-trading, with sums ranging from ₦10,000 to ₦50,000, remained a pervasive reality on election day. We have perfected the digital architecture of the ballot, but the “shadow economy” of Nigerian politics—the financing that operates outside the view of any portal—continues to undermine the integrity of the voter’s choice.

The allegations of spending—with figures ranging from ₦60 billion to ₦110 billion thrown around by political camps—cannot be ignored simply because they are unverified. Whether these amounts were fully deployed is secondary to what the figures represent: the alarming commodification of the governorship stool. Consider the opportunity cost. With a state capital expenditure budget of approximately ₦402.7 billion, an alleged ₦60 billion expenditure represents a massive diversion of resources. Every naira poured into this “shadow economy” is a naira subtracted from rural roads, primary healthcare, and teacher training. We have reached a point where the cost of acquiring political power now eclipses the capacity to deliver governance. When public office is treated as a commercial investment, the electorate is no longer the beneficiary; they become shareholders in a system designed to recoup the investor’s capital.

READ ALSO: Osun election violence: A postmortem

The opportunity cost of politics does not end at the ballot box. In Nigeria, electoral contests are not decided by ballots alone; they are now multi-year legal battles. This shift transforms our politics from a competition of ideas into a contest of legal endurance, further diverting the administration’s attention from governance to litigation. The cost is not just in the naira spent on campaigns, but in the institutional stagnation that follows a contested result.

The result in Osun State is only a mandate, not a legacy. Governor Adeleke has the renewed opportunity to demonstrate that the best response to an expensive, high-stakes election is to deliver tangible governance. As we look toward 2027, with the INEC projecting a voting population of over 100 million, Osun serves as a critical warning.

•Ukoh, a PhD student and coauthor of Built By The Ancestors, writes in from New York, the United States.