The return of Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan to the Senate after six months of suspension, is not just the story of one legislator reclaiming her seat., rather a constitutional question that goes to the heart of parliamentary legitimacy in Nigeria.
For six months, the people of Kogi Central Senatorial District were left without effective representation in the red chamber, not by an electoral outcome, but by the unilateral decision of their lawmakers.
Whatever the merits or demerits of the disputes that triggered her suspension, the length and scope of the punishment struck at the foundation of representative democracy.
In July 2024, a Federal High Court presided over by Justice Binta Nyako, ruled that the suspension was excessive and unconstitutional. The court noted that the Senate meets for about 181 days a year, meaning that six months of exclusion amounts to depriving a constituency of nearly a full legislative session.
Representation, the court affirmed, is not a privilege that leadership can withdraw at will but a constitutional right vested in the people.
In a fragile democracy already suffering from alienation and low trust, such disenfranchisement deepens the gulf between citizens and their institutions.
Senator Natasha’s suspension is not an isolated incident, as Nigeria’s legislature has a history of weaponising suspension against dissenting voices.
For instance, in 2016, Hon. Abdulmumin Jibrin was suspended for 180 days after raising allegations of budget padding. Again in 2018, Senator Ovie Omo-Agege was suspended for 90 days until the courts declared it unconstitutional.
Across state assemblies in Edo, Enugu, and Benue, suspensions have repeatedly been used to settle political scores, only for courts to later nullify them. Each unchecked abuse sets a precedent for the next, undermining public confidence in the legislature’s commitment to the rule of law.
The Senate must ask itself the simple question: if the constitution guarantees every citizen representation, by what authority can a chamber deny constituents their voice for half a year? Parliamentary discipline is necessary, but discipline that overrides constitutional rights is no longer regulation, it is overreach.
When plenary resumes on October 7, 2024, the Senate will have an opportunity to correct course. First, it must ensure that Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan’s resumption is not symbolic but complete with full restoration of her office, entitlements, and security. Anything less would mean that the punishment lingers beyond its stated term.
Secondly, the Senate should take this as a moment to review its disciplinary framework. No suspension should extend beyond a few days or weeks. Anything longer is collective punishment of constituents.
A reform mechanism, possibly with judicial oversight, is therefore necessary to prevent future excesses. The National Assembly cannot continue to act as judge, jury, and executioner in matters that affect the fundamental rights of Nigerians.
Thirdly, the Senate must re-establish respect for the judiciary. When court rulings are disregarded or treated as optional, lawmakers send a dangerous signal that constitutional order is negotiable. At a time when ordinary citizens face the full force of the law for even minor infractions, the legislature cannot afford to portray itself as above the law.
On her part, Senator Natasha herself must approach her return with a sense of duty to her constituents, not as a personal victory lap. For six months, the people of Kogi Central were effectively voiceless. Their concerns on infrastructure, education, and health were absent from the Senate floor. Her first task must be to re-establish that link, championing their interests with renewed vigour.
Civil society and the electorate also have a role. Nigerians must remain vigilant and continue to hold institutions accountable. The same energy that has exposed budget padding and constituency project abuse must be channelled into resisting legislative impunity. When lawmakers punish dissent at the expense of representation, they strike at the core of democracy itself.
Ultimately, Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan’s return should not be mistaken as closure. It is an indictment of a legislative culture that equates dissent with disloyalty, that treats court rulings as inconveniences, and that places loyalty to leadership above fidelity to the constitution.
If Nigeria’s democracy is to endure, no chamber, no president, and no leader can be allowed to override the rights of the people.
The Senate has a choice to make. It can either learn from this episode and reform its rules to reflect constitutional realities, or it can continue down the path of arrogance and abuse. For the sake of its own legitimacy and for the health of Nigeria’s democracy, Nigerians must insist on the former.
