Abuja, October 15, 2025 – In a fiery rebuke that has sent ripples through Nigeria's political corridors, Senator Seriake Dickson, the distinguished representative of Bayelsa West Senatorial District, has unleashed a scathing critique against the alarming surge of defections by opposition governors to the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC). Labeling the trend as nothing short of a "mockery of Nigeria’s democracy" and a perilous assault on the very foundation of multiparty politics, Dickson's words serve as a clarion call to safeguard the nation's fragile democratic experiment.
The outspoken senator, known for his unyielding commitment to progressive ideals, made these remarks during an exclusive interaction with journalists at the hallowed National Assembly Complex in Abuja. This came mere moments after the conclusion of Wednesday's plenary session, a timing that underscored the urgency and immediacy of his message. As lawmakers dispersed from the chamber, Dickson stood firm, his voice resonant with conviction, reaffirming his unwavering loyalty to the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP)—the platform that has propelled him and his people to the pinnacles of national power.
“I am where I have always been,” Dickson declared with characteristic poise, his eyes scanning the cluster of reporters hanging on his every word. “I don’t believe Nigeria should become a one-party state. As a democrat, I understand the ups and downs of the process, but I remain constant and steadfast in the PDP.” These words were not mere rhetoric; they encapsulated a lifetime of political service, from his days as Governor of Bayelsa State to his current role as a federal legislator. For Dickson, fidelity to one's party is not just a personal choice but a sacred duty to the democratic ethos that underpins Nigeria's Fourth Republic.
The backdrop to Dickson's outburst is a cascade of high-profile defections that have rocked the opposition landscape in recent weeks. At the epicenter of this political earthquake are several PDP governors who have abruptly abandoned ship for the APC's embrace. The list reads like a who's who of Nigeria's South-South and Southeast political heavyweights: Sheriff Oborevwori of Delta State, Umo Eno of Akwa Ibom, Peter Mbah of Enugu, and, in a twist that hit closest to home, Duoye Diri of Bayelsa State. Diri's announcement, shockingly made barely 24 hours after Mbah's own defection, has been the final straw, transforming what was once a trickle into a veritable flood.
“It’s sad,” Dickson lamented, his tone laced with profound disappointment. “Instead of fixing the problems, they let the crisis fester and now they are bailing out. It makes Nigeria look small, ridicules our democracy, and endangers multiparty politics. What we are witnessing is political class suicide.” His words paint a vivid picture of betrayal—not just of party loyalty, but of the very principles that allow diverse voices to thrive in a multi-ethnic giant like Nigeria. By jumping to the APC, these governors are not merely switching allegiances; they are eroding the checks and balances essential for accountable governance.
Delving deeper into the personal dimension of this saga, Dickson revealed a poignant detail that humanizes the political drama. Governor Diri, his successor in Bayelsa, had consulted the senator multiple times in the lead-up to his defection. “To his credit, he consulted me,” Dickson acknowledged graciously, “but I didn’t see any compelling reason to defect.” Despite the earnest discussions, Dickson remained unmoved, his resolve as unshakeable as the Niger Delta's mangrove roots. “I’m still standing where I have always stood, with the PDP, the party that gave my people the opportunity to produce a Vice President, an acting President, and a President of the Federal Republic. The APC cannot offer that,” he asserted, invoking the storied legacy of PDP icons like Goodluck Jonathan, whose presidency elevated Bayelsa and the Ijaw nation to unprecedented heights.
This historical reference is no accident. Dickson's narrative is a masterclass in political memory, reminding Nigerians of the PDP's instrumental role in fostering inclusivity. From Atiku Abubakar's vice presidency under Olusegun Obasanjo to Jonathan's ascent amid national crises, the PDP has been the vehicle for minority voices in a federation often dominated by majority ethnic interests. Defecting to the APC, in Dickson's view, is tantamount to forsaking that hard-won equity for short-term gains—perhaps federal patronage or protection from anti-corruption hounds.
Expanding on the broader implications, Dickson issued a stark warning that resonates far beyond the PDP's National Secretariat in Wuse Zone 5. “Defecting to the ruling party should not be an option for anyone committed to democratic values,” he thundered. “If we fail to save the PDP, then we will decide collectively on the next step, but it certainly should not be joining the APC. A democracy without opposition becomes a dictatorship.” These are not hyperbolic flourishes; they echo the lessons of history. Nigeria's brief foray into one-party experiments under military rule in the 1980s sowed seeds of authoritarianism, a fate Dickson is determined to avert.
Positioning himself as a “soldier of democracy,” the former governor—who peacefully handed over to Diri in 2020—vowed to redouble efforts in fortifying multiparty politics. His track record speaks volumes: As Bayelsa's chief executive from 2012 to 2020, Dickson championed education reforms, infrastructure development, and environmental advocacy against oil spills, all while nurturing a robust opposition voice. Today, in the Red Chamber, he continues that legacy, sponsoring bills on electoral reforms and fiscal federalism. His defection stance is thus not isolationist but inspirational—a beacon for younger politicians tempted by the APC's allure.
The defections' ripple effects are already manifesting. PDP stakeholders are scrambling for emergency meetings, with whispers of a potential merger or rebirth under new leadership. Analysts point to internal PDP woes—leadership squabbles, funding shortages, and electoral losses in 2023—as catalysts. Yet, Dickson counters that true leadership demands resolution, not retreat. “These governors had the power to heal the party from within,” he said, “but chose the easy path, leaving the rank-and-file to bear the burden.”
Nationwide, reactions are polarized. APC chieftains hail the influx as a "unification of progressive forces," while civil society groups like Yiaga Africa decry it as "democratic backsliding." In Bayelsa, where Dickson remains a colossus, Diri's move has sparked protests, with Ijaw youths chanting, "No to one-party tyranny!" Social media is ablaze, trending hashtags like #SavePDP and #DicksonStandsFirm.
As Nigeria hurtles toward the 2027 polls, Dickson's defiance could galvanize a PDP resurgence or fracture it irreparably. Either way, his message is clear: Democracy thrives on pluralism, not hegemony. In an era of global democratic recessions—from Hungary's Orbán to Brazil's Bolsonaro—Nigeria cannot afford to join the club. Senator Dickson's stand is a reminder that true power lies not in numbers, but in principled conviction.
In closing, Dickson urged compatriots: “Let us rebuild, not run. The PDP is down, but not out. Together, we preserve the soul of our republic.” As the sun set over Abuja's marbled domes, his words lingered, a testament to enduring faith in Nigeria's democratic promise.
