The National Assembly has a sitting problem, and 2026 has only made it more obvious. The legislature has been pushed further from its core work by a 93-day recess cycle, coupled with an election season that is already crowding the calendar. The pattern must change. If lawmakers hope to be taken seriously, politics should not be allowed to displace governance.
Since its June 13, 2023, inauguration, the 10th National Assembly has spent 581 of its first 1,003 days on recess, sitting in plenary for only 422. In the first quarter of 2026, it managed just 17 sitting days out of a possible 90 — absent for more than three-quarters of the period. The year before, it fell 40 days short of the 181-day minimum constitutional requirement. Surely, lawmaking, overseeing the executive, and representing citizens are not duties that can be undertaken while lounging at home or in a hotel.
Section 63 of the 1999 Constitution sets the 181-day floor as a structural requirement, not a guideline. By the end of March 2026, the legislature still needed 164 more sitting days before the year’s end. Accomplishing this, however, is no longer realistic. A cycle of repeated adjournments has resulted in a schedule that is simply incapable of meeting what the law demands. Meanwhile, the gap between constitutional obligation and actual practice keeps widening.
Legislative leaders argue that recess does not mean inactivity. They insist that committees keep working and oversight continues outside plenary. But results have not supported these arguments. The 2026 Appropriation Act was passed well into the fiscal year. The constitutional amendment process, originally due for completion in 2025, remains unresolved. If work is genuinely being done during recesses, such work is not producing the outcomes the legislature is supposed to deliver.
The countdown to the 2027 elections has not helped matters. Party primaries are scheduled between April 23 and May 30, with campaign activities starting in August. That timetable competes with parliamentary work as lawmakers are drawn into the flurry of delegate negotiations, constituency visits, and electoral mobilisation, consequently detracting from the time and attention that should have gone into legislative business.
While this collision between governance and politics is not new, the way lawmakers carry on with it has been more open and damaging. It proves right critics who hold the perception that legislative office has become primarily a platform for political careers rather than a place where governing happens.
A legislature that meets infrequently cannot be expected to meaningfully scrutinise executive action. When parliamentary oversight is weak or intermittent, ministries, departments, and agencies tend to operate with less accountability. The cost of this gap in lawmaking is even more pronounced when considered against the fact that the country is currently faced with inflation, unemployment, and persistent insecurity. These are not the times to switch governance on and off without risking severe consequences.
Some might argue that elections are, in a way, a form of governance. This postulation suggests that building democratic mandates is no less a part of the job. While it holds some truth, it does not replace the lawmakers’ day-to-day obligations of running the Assembly. Both have to happen, and the institution has to be structured to handle them without one eclipsing the other.
Frequent recesses have become routine rather than exceptional. This suggests a model of parliamentary practice that values flexibility over discipline. In systems where accountability is more the rule than the exception, such an approach might work. Nigeria, however, is a peculiar country with a peculiar people and a peculiar claim to democracy. Structures remain at the development stage. This creates too much room for inaction to go unexamined. The value of recess as a procedural tool depends entirely on the quality of work done while lawmakers are away. Where that work is neither visible nor impactful, it should not come as a surprise if members of the public respond with scepticism.
The National Assembly should commit to a tighter and more predictable calendar. Adjournments should occur only when there is ample justification, not because lawmakers have become lazy and unfeeling to the pressures of their constitutional responsibilities. Activities in the Green and Red Chambers should be tracked and reported in ways that the public, particularly the media, can access and assess. The rules governing recesses — their frequency and duration — should be reviewed, with attention to election years when the pull away from legislative work is at its strongest.
The 10th legislature must recover its institutional purpose. Its legislators must acknowledge that their authority flows from the constitutional role they hold, not from their private political ambitions. They must ensure sustained presence, timely and impactful legislation, and oversight. These are the indicators by which they will be judged.
Nigeria’s democracy is structured to depend on three arms of government, each functional within its defined role and providing a check and balance on the others. The equilibrium breaks down when one arm drifts into what bears the semblance of a holidaying spree. The 10th National Assembly is drifting. Bringing it back to the shores of purpose requires more than reassurances by its Principal Officers. There must be a conscious willingness to make deliberate choices consistently, in favour of public duty over political convenience.
The question facing the current lawmakers is not really whether to engage in politics — they will, and they should. It is whether they understand their primary obligation clearly enough to protect it. The credibility of the institution and the health of Nigeria’s democracy depend on the answer.
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