There are moments when I feel we are not going anywhere as a nation.
Each time I watch state television, I am reminded why I have never taken part in active party politics.
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Over the decades, I have certainly had my sympathies and even my preferred figures in the political arena, but I have never crossed the line into joining or actively participating in any political grouping.
It is not that I have never been approached by various political parties and senior politicians, at times even with promises of high-ranking positions — but I have consistently and humbly declined such offers.
This has never been due to apathy or a lack of concern for my country.
On the contrary, it comes from a deep concern about how politics often operates and what truly drives those who seek power.
One of my strongest convictions is that politicians and political parties are rarely driven primarily by a sincere desire to improve the lives of ordinary people.
That may sound cynical, but it is a view shaped by long observation.
In many cases, those who enter active politics appear motivated first by the pursuit and retention of power.
Power brings control over resources, influence over institutions, social status, and the intoxicating feeling of importance.
These are traits I have never found particularly appealing.
The people, meanwhile, often become secondary—important mainly as a means to an end.
In a democracy, even a flawed one, the support of citizens is necessary to win elections.
Politicians must therefore speak the language of the people, promise development, and present themselves as servants of the public.
Yet too often, this relationship feels transactional.
The people are courted during election seasons and sidelined afterward.
They become tools for legitimacy rather than the true focus of governance.
One sometimes wonders: if elections did not exist, if leaders did not need votes, how much effort would be invested in listening to ordinary citizens?
Would the rhetoric about “the people” be as loud and frequent?
This reality is closely tied to another issue that troubles me deeply: the culture of hero-worship in politics.
I have never believed in worshipping any human being.
Respect, yes.
Honor, where it is due, certainly.
But worship—placing a leader on a pedestal beyond criticism—has no place in a healthy society.
Only Jehovah God, through His son, our Lord Jesus Christ, is worthy of my worship.
Leaders are human.
They make mistakes.
They have blind spots, biases, and limitations.
When we treat them as infallible, we rob both them and ourselves of the opportunity for growth and accountability.
Yes-men and yes-women are among the greatest liabilities any leader can have.
A leader surrounded by people who are afraid to disagree or to point out mistakes is a leader in danger.
Such an environment breeds complacency and poor decision-making.
A sycophant will applaud a leader even as he walks toward a cliff.
Praise can become a form of deception when it replaces honesty.
True loyalty is not blind agreement; it is the courage to speak uncomfortable truths for the greater good.
If I were ever to hold a leadership position, I would value those who challenge me more than those who flatter me.
Flattery is cheap.
Integrity is costly.
A person who constantly defends a leader no matter what, who cannot admit when their preferred politician is wrong, reveals more about their own lack of principle than about the greatness of the leader.
If someone has no spine to stand for truth over personality, how can they be trusted when it truly matters?
What disturbs me further is how political loyalty often turns into hostility toward others.
People spend enormous energy defending their leaders and attacking perceived rivals.
Social media has amplified this tendency.
Insults, propaganda, and endless arguments dominate timelines.
Yet amid all this noise, the real struggles of ordinary people are drowned out.
Who speaks for the elderly patient lying in a hospital without adequate care or essential medicines?
Who speaks for communities that have gone years without reliable water supplies?
Who is thinking about the child who walks several kilometers to school on an empty stomach, with no books or proper learning materials?
These are the issues that should occupy the center of our national conversation.
These are the realities that define people’s lives.
But they rarely trend as much as political slogans or personality battles.
State media, in particular, often reinforces this culture of glorification.
It is not uncommon to see entire news bulletins filled with praise for top leaders and their spouses, decorated with grand titles and glowing descriptions.
While leaders deserve recognition for genuine achievements, constant praise without balance begins to look less like journalism and more like public relations.
It sends the message that leaders are beyond criticism and that loyalty must be displayed publicly and repeatedly.
What I find especially troubling is when even senior officials are reduced to praising a leader’s spouse as if it were their duty.
I find it particularly pathetic when entire cabinets bow and bootlick the spouse — someone who holds no elected office and was chosen by no one.
Admiration for individuals should never blur the lines of accountability or institutional responsibility.
When politics starts to resemble royalty, with praise-singing and ceremonial reverence, citizens should pause and reflect.
My position is simple.
I can support a leader’s policies.
I can acknowledge good decisions.
I can even defend a leader when they are treated unfairly.
But I will never worship a political figure or their family.
Support must be conditional on performance, integrity, and results.
The moment support becomes worship, democracy begins to weaken.
Citizens become followers instead of stakeholders.
Leaders become idols instead of servants.
A healthy political culture requires citizens who think critically, who ask questions, and who are not afraid to demand better.
It requires people who understand that loyalty to a country is more important than loyalty to a politician.
Leaders come and go.
Nations remain.
The future of any society depends not on how loudly it praises its leaders, but on how effectively it holds them accountable.
If I ever choose to support a political leader openly, I would make my position clear from the beginning: I will support you when you serve the people well, and I will criticize you when you do not.
I will not worship you.
I will not worship your spouse.
My allegiance is to principles, to justice, and to the well-being of ordinary citizens.
That, in my view, is not disrespect.
It is the highest form of civic responsibility.
In the end, democracy is not about elevating individuals; it is about empowering citizens.
The day we remember that is the day politics can truly become a tool for improving lives rather than a stage for personalities.
● Tendai Ruben Mbofana is a social justice advocate and writer. To directly receive his articles please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
TENDAI RUBEN MBOFANA - THE UN-OPPRESSED MIND! 