“… You Worse than Senseless Things!” – Nigeria’s Leaders vs. the Electorate: the LEVERAGE

In Julius Caesar, Act 1, Scene 1, the tribunes Flavius and Marullus confront the Roman plebeians who have rushed into the streets to celebrate Caesar’s triumph. In frustration at their fickleness and blind adoration, Marullus thunders:

“You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!”
(Julius Caesar, Act 1, Scene 1)

It is a rebuke not only of the people’s forgetfulness but of their willingness to surrender their agency to spectacle and power. Shakespeare’s line, though centuries old, echoes eerily across the Nigerian sociopolitical landscape today.

The Nigerian Political Class and the Roman Illusion

Nigeria’s political elite often behave as though the masses exist solely to applaud them. Their motorcades demand instant reverence. Their speeches assume unquestioned loyalty. Their campaigns rely on the predictable choreography of crowds, dancing, chanting, waving flags, and lining the streets like the Roman plebeians who abandoned their work to celebrate Caesar.

This is not accidental. It is a political culture built on the assumption that the people will always follow, always praise, always forget, and always return. In this worldview, the electorate becomes what Marullus accused the plebeians of being: blocks, stones, and worthless beings, objects to be moved, not citizens to be respected.

But Do the People See Themselves This Way?

This is the uncomfortable question. Many Nigerians, through years of political conditioning, may have internalised this diminished identity. Not consciously. Not proudly. But through repeated patterns of behaviour:

• Rushing to greet politicians who have done little for them
• Defending leaders who have failed them
• Celebrating individuals instead of demanding institutions
• Trading political agency for temporary gifts or emotional loyalty
• Accepting suffering as fate rather than a solvable problem

These actions do not make the people “worthless”, far from it. But they reveal how power can shape perception, and how perception can shape behaviour. The tragedy is not that leaders see the people as stones. The tragedy is that the people sometimes act as though they believe it.

The Parody of Power

Nigerian politicians often mistake the people’s endurance for stupidity, their silence for consent, and their resilience for weakness. They misread survival as servitude. Like Caesar, they assume the cheers are genuine. Like Caesar, they assume the crowd will always be there. Like Caesar, they forget that the same plebeians who praise today can revolt tomorrow.

The Shakespearean parody is sharp: leaders who see the people as stones forget that stones can also become weapons.

The Electorate Is Not Stone

This is the heart of the matter. The Nigerian electorate is not senseless. They are not blocks. They are not worthless. They are a sleeping giant whose power is routinely underestimated.

A vote is not a stone; it is a lever, a force, a declaration of dignity. When the people vote, they are not merely participating in a ritual; they are rewriting the script. They are rejecting the Shakespearean insult. They are asserting that they are not objects of political theatre but subjects of political destiny. The vote is the one moment when the dichotomy collapses; when the leader and the led stand equal, when the plebeian becomes sovereign.

From Plebeians to Citizens

For Nigeria to move forward, the electorate must reclaim its identity:

• From spectators to stakeholders
• From praise-singers to policy-demanders
• From stones to voices
• From blocks to builders

The leaders will not change the script. The people must.

The tribunes in Julius Caesar lamented the plebeians’ forgetfulness. But Nigeria’s story does not have to follow that arc. The electorate can remember. They can demand. They can choose differently. They can refuse to be props in the political drama.

A New Shakespearean Ending

Shakespeare’s line was meant as a rebuke. But in Nigeria, it can become a catalyst.

• The people are not blocks. They are the foundation.
• They are not stones. They are the pillars.
• They are not worthless. They are the worth of the nation.

And their vote: quiet, small, often underestimated, is the might that can reshape the republic.