Empty Lagos State House of Assembly chamber with desks, microphones and the Nigerian flag, illustrating a story about Nigerian youths and political service.

The Deputy Speaker of the Lagos State House of Assembly, Honourable Mojisola Meranda, has cautioned young Nigerians against treating politics as a profession, urging them instead to acquire practical skills, build careers, and see public office as a platform for service rather than a means of livelihood. Her remarks, delivered at a youth engagement programme in 2026, have reopened a national conversation about the real motivations driving young people into partisan activity, the cost of treating politics as a profession, and the kind of leaders the country desperately needs at a time of economic strain and widespread youth unemployment.

Speaking directly to a hall filled with undergraduates, National Youth Service Corps members and young party operatives, Meranda argued that the moment politics becomes the only source of income, public officers begin to behave like contractors chasing contracts rather than representatives chasing the common good. She maintained that Nigeria’s democracy would be healthier if its lawmakers, councillors and local government chairmen arrived at the podium with years of private-sector experience, not just ward-level connections and a willingness to hustle.

What Meranda Actually Said About Politics as a Profession

Meranda’s central point was simple but unusually blunt for a sitting principal officer of a state legislature. Politics, she insisted, is not a profession. It is a calling that should be layered on top of a profession. A young Nigerian who graduates with a degree in engineering, accounting, medicine or law and spends five or ten years practising that trade before seeking elective office, she said, is far more likely to understand budgeting, procurement, regulation and the lived reality of taxpayers than someone who has spent the same decade as a full-time political activist with no verifiable income.

She described the current trend, where many undergraduates drop out of school or refuse to take internships because they believe they can make faster money through party structures, as a quiet national emergency. According to her, the consequence shows up in the quality of legislation, the calibre of oversight, and the willingness of elected officials to demand accountability from the executive arm they are supposed to check.

Why the Warning Matters for Nigerian Youths in 2026

Nigeria’s labour market in 2026 remains tight. Official figures from the National Bureau of Statistics show that youth unemployment and underemployment still hover in double digits, and the informal sector absorbs the majority of new entrants. Against that backdrop, party platforms have become attractive pipelines for young Nigerians who see quick access to stipends, appointment slots, campaign contracts and the occasional overseas trip. Meranda’s intervention is essentially a counter-recruitment message: do not abandon your education or your trade because someone promises you a chairmanship in three years.

For first-time voters and freshly registered party members, the practical reading of her advice is straightforward. Build a verifiable skill, hold down a job, run a small business, or grow a freelance portfolio. Then, if the calling to serve remains strong, bring that competence into politics. The country, she suggested, will get better laws, better budgets, and less of the rent-seeking behaviour that has turned many council and state legislatures into clearing houses for personal favours.

The Wider Debate: Is Any Career in Politics Legitimate?

The idea that politics as a profession is harmful is not new. Across Africa, similar arguments have surfaced in Ghana, Kenya and South Africa, where parliaments have passed laws requiring elected officials to declare their pre-political occupations and disclose business interests. Supporters say such rules discourage career politicians who never do anything else; critics warn they can lock out talented young people without the means to fund campaigns.

Meranda is not calling for a ban. She is calling for a mindset shift. She argues that holding a political position should not absolve a public officer of the discipline that comes from having worked for a wage, paid tax from a personal bank account, signed performance reviews, and dealt with the consequences of incompetence. A councilor who has run a poultry farm, a legislator who has closed a hospital shift, or a governor who has balanced a corporate payroll, in her view, understands scarcity and discipline in a way a lifetime apparatchik often does not.

How Young Politicians Can Balance Service and Livelihood

Meranda offered a practical framework for young Nigerians who insist on staying active in partisan politics while building a livelihood. Her suggestions included the following:

  • Treat political appointments, where they exist, as temporary contracts with deliverables, not lifetime sinecures.
  • Keep professional licences, certifications and trade tools current, so that leaving office is a transition, not a collapse.
  • Maintain a personal business or consultancy registered in one’s own name, separate from party structures, to avoid the trap of dependency.
  • Document civic impact through verifiable project records, not just titles and grand titles on social media profiles.
  • Invest part of any allowance or honorarium in training, not just in lifestyle, so competence compounds over time.

She also urged political parties to design youth structures that reward policy research, legislative drafting, and constituency casework over sloganeering and door-to-door mobilisation alone. A youth wing that trains future ministers, she said, is more useful to democracy than one that only supplies campaigners during election cycles.

What Civic Groups and Student Leaders Are Saying

Reactions from civil society and student union leaders have been broadly supportive, though some have pushed back on tone. The National Association of Nigerian Students has welcomed the emphasis on education and skill acquisition but warned that treating politics as a profession should not become a coded way of telling poor youths to stay out of politics entirely. They argue that if the entry cost of politics remains high, only the children of wealthy politicians will ever sit on the floor of the House, and the diversity of voices in the chamber will shrink, not grow.

Anti-corruption watchdogs have also weighed in, pointing out that the real problem is not whether politics is a profession in the technical sense, but whether the allowances, contracts and patronage pipelines tied to public office are transparent. A legislator who openly declares income from farming, consulting or a family business is, in their view, less dangerous than one who hides unexplained wealth behind a long list of political titles.

What This Means for Elections and Party Primaries in 2027

With general elections approaching in 2027, Meranda’s warning lands at a sensitive moment. Aspirants across the major parties are already courting young delegates, and youth caucuses in Lagos, Ogun, Rivers, Kano and Kaduna have become kingmakers in several state assemblies. If her message takes root, it could push parties to vet candidates on competence, not just loyalty, and could give professionally accomplished young Nigerians a stronger claim to nominations than the usual cycle of godfather-backed newcomers.

It also puts pressure on the Independent National Electoral Commission and the various state electoral commissions to publish clearer post-election data on the occupations, ages, and educational backgrounds of elected officials, so that Nigerians can see for themselves whether the chamber is becoming more professional or more closed.

Frequently Asked Questions

Who is Mojisola Meranda?

Mojisola Meranda is the Deputy Speaker of the Lagos State House of Assembly. She represents the Apapa I Constituency and is one of the principal officers of the Lagos legislature.

Did she say politics is bad for young Nigerians?

No. Her position is that politics as a profession is the problem, not politics itself. She encourages young Nigerians to participate in civic life, party work, and elections, but to do so on top of a verifiable professional or business career.

How can a young Nigerian balance politics and a real career?

By keeping professional qualifications current, maintaining a registered business or consultancy, treating political roles as temporary, and documenting civic impact through measurable projects rather than titles alone.

Is her advice only for those who want to contest elections?

No. It also applies to those who want to serve as appointees, legislative aides, or local government staff. The same principle applies: build competence first, then bring it into public service.

Will this change the outcome of the 2027 elections?

It is too early to say, but the debate has already pushed parties and civil society groups to talk openly about the occupational backgrounds of their candidates, which is a healthy shift for Nigerian democracy.

For Nigerian youths weighing their futures, the takeaway from Meranda’s 2026 intervention is sobering but empowering. Politics can wait. A profession cannot be postponed forever, and a country that wants better leaders must first raise better professionals.

Related Reading

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *