By Ebuka Ukoh
Examining the lessons of the 2026 US midterm elections, this writer argues that political power belongs to the people and urges Nigerian institutions to ensure that every voter’s verdict is respected.
From Texas to Kansas, the 2026 US midterm elections remind us that political power is borrowed from the people, never permanently owned by those who hold it.
There is something profoundly instructive about watching a political stronghold change hands—not because one political party is inherently better than another. At the same time, an electoral defeat does not necessarily mean every policy of the losing party was wrong. Still, it reminds us of a fundamental democratic truth: the people who give political power retain the right to take it away.
On November 3, 2026, Americans went to the polls for the midterm elections. By the following morning, the political landscape had shifted considerably. Democrats secured control of both chambers of Congress. At the same time, Republicans suffered defeats in states where their electoral dominance had endured for decades: Kansas, Texas, South Carolina, North Carolina, Iowa, Ohio, and Georgia.
Places whose political histories had long defined what was assumed electorally possible suddenly produced different results.
For Nigerians watching from thousands of miles away, these elections raise a vital question: What happens when citizens refuse to treat political power as the permanent property of those who occupy it?
Consider Kansas. For 94 years, the state had not elected a Democrat to the United States Senate—not since 1932. Yet on November 3, Democrat Adam Hamilton defeated incumbent Republican Senator Roger Marshall. Nearly a century of electoral history did not prevent voters from choosing differently.
Then there is Texas. For decades, the state has been central to Republican strength, having elected neither a Democratic US senator since 1988 nor a governor since 1990. In this election, however, Democrat James Talarico won the Senate race, while Gina Hinojosa defeated Republican Governor Greg Abbott. Texas did not erase its political history; its voters exercised their right to write a new chapter.
South Carolina offered another example, electing Democrat Annie Andrews to the Senate and ending a drought stretching back to 1998. In Iowa, Democrat Josh Turek won a Senate seat in a state that had not elected a Democrat to the chamber since 2008. Democrats also captured governorships in Georgia and Ohio, breaking years of uninterrupted Republican control.
North Carolina tells a similar story. For 18 years, Republicans held the Senate seat previously occupied by Thom Tillis. Yet on November 3, former Democratic Governor and a fundamental character became the first Democrat elected to the US Senate since 2008. While North Carolina is competitive in statewide contests, this result shows that even an established pattern of party control remains subject to the voters’ final verdict.
These outcomes do not mean every voter in those states changed their political allegiance, nor that each state’s fundamental character transformed overnight. But collectively, the results challenge one of politics’ most persistent assumptions: yesterday’s electoral dominance does not guarantee tomorrow’s victory.
People Aren’t Bound by Political Loyalty
Political parties often speak about strongholds as though they were the electorate’s consent; the state belongs to us. That region will always vote for us. Those voters have nowhere else to go.
Such language is painfully familiar in Nigeria. We speak of states as the personal territories of governors, political godfathers, and dominant parties. We describe entire regions as though their political preferences were permanently fixed, sometimes treating a politician’s popularity as a substitute for the electorate’s consent.
But citizens are not political property. Their loyalty is not an inheritance, and their votes should never be regarded as an entitlement. A person who supported a party in one election has every right to reconsider that support in the next. Changing one’s political preference is not betrayal; it is the essence of democratic freedom.
According to Associated Press reporting, affordability, high living costs, concerns about corruption, and dissatisfaction with federal government policy heavily influenced American voters. While these concerns affected individuals differently, they ensured voters could reassess political leadership against their current realities. A political mandate is permission to govern, based on citizens’ priorities and future judgement.
Nigeria Must Learn to Respect People’s Verdict
Nigeria’s own political history makes this lesson acutely relevant. In 2015, Nigerians voted out an incumbent president for the first time, proving that federal incumbency does not guarantee victory.
However, democratic progress cannot be measured solely by whether an incumbent loses. A functioning democracy must protect citizens’ right to retain a government they support just as much as it protects their right to replace one they no longer want. Both outcomes must emerge from a credible process.
Consequently, Nigeria’s political discourse must move beyond merely predicting which party will win the next election. The more fundamental questions concern the conditions under which citizens vote: Do they feel safe? Are they confident that their ballots will be counted? Do electoral institutions act impartially? Are disputes resolved through credible legal processes? And do political actors respect outcomes? Are disputes resolved through lawful procedures? Without satisfactory answers, the language of popular sovereignty is difficult to reconcile with political reality. The power of the people is meaningful only when the electoral system respects what the people decide.
Opposition Must Offer More Than Opposition
American elections offer another vital lesson: political competition requires alternatives that voters regard as credible. In Nigeria, conversations about opposition politics too often revolve around personalities, defections, tactical alliances, and the race for the next presidential ticket.
While these matters attract attention, an opposition party’s democratic responsibility extends far beyond identifying government failures. It must articulate what it proposes to do differently. What is its economic programme? How would it tackle insecurity? What structural reforms would it pursue in education, healthcare, employment, and public finance?
Cooperation between opposition parties is a legitimate choice where shared policy priorities and democratic principles exist. However, collaboration does not automatically produce public confidence, just as fragmentation does not automatically signal a lack of seriousness. What matters is whether parties build accountable structures, communicate coherent policies, select candidates transparently, and demonstrate absolute respect for democratic rules. The same standards apply equally to governing parties.
Elections Are About More Than Election Day
The American experience also warrants careful interpretation. Its electoral system faces significant controversies, including disputes over redistricting, campaign finance, voter access, and administration. The 2026 results do not imply that American democracy is flawless; indeed, ballots were still being counted days after the polls closed. But the elections underscore the importance of robust institutions through which political competition takes place and outcomes remain publicly verifiable.
For Nigeria, strengthening those institutions requires sustained, active attention between electoral cycles. The Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) must possess the operational capacity and independence to administer credible elections. Security agencies must protect voters and officials without partisan bias. Political parties must democratise their internal processes, and courts must adjudicate electoral disputes fairly and promptly. Civil society organisations and journalists must continue scrutinising public resource management, while citizens demand unhindered access to reliable information. Credible elections do not emerge automatically from neglected institutions.
What About the Nigerian Voter?
As citizens, we must also examine our own criteria: How do we evaluate those seeking to govern us? By ethnicity? Religion? Party loyalty? Personal relationships? Or by evidence of performance, integrity, policy commitments, and the capacity to deliver public goods?
Nigeria’s political choices occur within complex socio-economic realities. Many citizens face severe barriers to participation, including insecurity, financial hardship, and institutional distrust. It would be unfair to place the burden of democratic shortcomings entirely on voters. Government and electoral authorities carry profound obligations.
Still, where citizens have meaningful freedom to participate, their choices matter. We must be willing to question politicians we support, demand accountability from those in office, scrutinise challengers, and reject the notion that political loyalty demands permanent agreement. Democracy does not demand that citizens always change their leaders; it demands that they remain free to do so.
Power Is Borrowed, Never Owned
The 2026 American midterm elections will generate extensive debate about the direction of US politics and the legacy of the presidential term. But the core lesson extends far beyond American shores.
Political power remains subject to public judgement. Kansas went 94 years without electing a Democratic senator; Texas went decades without a Democratic statewide victor. Yet those patterns changed. For Nigeria, the lesson is not that a particular party must win or another must lose, but that no political office should escape electoral accountability.
No governor owns a state. No president owns a country. No party owns a people’s loyalty, and no citizen owes permanent allegiance to a politician. The ballot must remain powerful enough to change a government without pushing the nation into violence.
That is the democratic principle worth defending. And as another election cycle approaches, the most critical question for Nigeria remains: When Nigerians speak through their votes, will our institutions faithfully deliver their verdict?
