“No matter what you do, you cannot change anything.”
Over the past few weeks, I have heard some versions of this sentence more times than I can count. It is the unofficial slogan of political apathy: a belief that participation is pointless and ordinary people are too powerless to make a difference.
Perhaps that is why political disengagement has become increasingly normal among young people. In many spaces, declaring “I do not do politics” is no longer seen as a concern. It is presented as self-preservation, maturity, or even a personality trait.
Why young people become apathetic
I understand the feeling.
I am writing from Nigeria, where many young people have grown up watching corruption scandals, economic hardship, insecurity, and political promises that never seem to materialise. Frustration is understandable. Disappointment is understandable. Even exhaustion is understandable.
Political apathy does not emerge in a vacuum. It is often born from repeated experiences that make participation feel meaningless. When young people see leaders make promises that are never fulfilled, struggle to see tangible improvements, or feel excluded from decision-making processes, disengagement can begin to feel like a reasonable response. The result is a generation that cares deeply about what is happening around them but increasingly doubts its ability to influence outcomes.
This sense of disillusionment is reflected in broader patterns of political participation. According to data from the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC), young people aged eighteen to thirty-four made up nearly forty per cent of registered voters ahead of Nigeria’s 2023 elections. Yet despite representing one of the largest voting blocs in the country, overall voter turnout in the presidential election was only about twenty-seven per cent, the lowest since Nigeria’s return to democracy in 1999. This raises an important question: if young people have the numbers, why are so many still absent from the processes that shape their future?
The Global Youth Participation Index (GYPI) helps explain this. While young Nigerians remain active in civic movements and advocacy, translating engagement into formal political influence is more difficult. The index highlights barriers such as age-based exclusion, elite-dominated party systems, and obstacles to voter registration and candidacy. Young people have repeatedly demonstrated that they care about public affairs. The #EndSARS movement was one powerful example of this engagement. Yet Nigeria scores 45 in Political Affairs and 43 in Elections, suggesting that participation often becomes harder precisely where influence is greatest.
Why apathy is dangerous
I find myself wondering how hopelessness has, for many people, begun to feel like an identity.
Because while many of us spend hours discussing the state of our countries online, sharing frustrations in group chats, and criticising decisions made by political leaders, fewer of us are willing to engage in the processes that shape those decisions in the first place. Online frustration without institutional engagement is not participation. It is just conversation with no follow-through.
The consequences of this mindset extend far beyond individual disengagement. Democracy depends on participation. When young people withdraw from political life, important decisions are still made, policies are still adopted, and leaders are still elected. The difference is that these decisions are made without the voices of those who will live with their consequences the longest.
Choosing not to participate is still a political choice. It simply leaves the decision to someone else.
Why this matters now
While political participation extends far beyond election cycles, elections remain one of the clearest moments when citizens can directly influence public leadership.
As Nigeria moves closer to another election cycle, conversations about political apathy are no longer abstract. Participation is time-sensitive.
With voter registration currently open and set to close in July, eligible Nigerians have a limited window to register, transfer their details, or update their Permanent Voter’s Card (PVC) ahead of the next elections.
This is what makes the present moment important: not just the conversations we are having, but whether those conversations lead to action.
Political apathy may feel like protection, but it is often surrender disguised as distance.
Conclusion
Political apathy is not a personality trait. It is not a sign of wisdom, maturity, or independence. More often, it is a response to disappointment.
But democracy does not improve because people care. It improves because people participate.
There will always be reasons to believe that one vote does not matter. There will always be reasons to stay home, remain silent, or leave the responsibility to someone else. Yet every election is ultimately decided by the people who show up.
My hope is simple: that more young people choose participation over resignation. Get your PVC. Encourage your friends to do the same. Ask questions. Stay informed. Hold leaders accountable.
The future of our country will be shaped by someone.
It might as well include us.
More about the author Olamide Anibaba
Olamide Anibaba is a Nigerian youth advocate passionate about youth participation, human rights, and mental health. She serves on the Action Against Child Sexual Abuse Initiative (ACSAI) Youth Advisory Board and as the Co-Coordinator of the Girl Up Youth Mental Health Advisory Board. Through her work, she is committed to helping young people recognise the power of their voices and their ability to shape the communities and systems around them.
