A type of fever grips this country every four years that has nothing to do with malaria.
It starts quietly, with a few billboards and some overly enthusiastic WhatsApp forwards.
By the time the campaign trains are in full motion, everybody has an opinion about who should lead Nigeria come 2027.
As a health communication professional, I find this season fascinating, not because of the politics itself, but because of what it does to the ordinary Nigerian body and mind.
We talk endlessly about manifestos and permanent voter cards. We rarely pause to ask what all this excitement, anxiety and argument is doing to our blood pressure, our sleep and our sanity.
Let me be honest from the start. I am not writing to tell you who to vote for.
That is not my business, and frankly, it is above my pay grade. What I want to talk about is something far less glamorous but arguably more urgent.
That is the health cost of political seasons in Nigeria and what every one of us can actually do about it.
Waiting for government to protect your peace of mind is, if we are being truthful with ourselves, a losing strategy.
