By Ebuka Ukoh
If Nigeria is serious about reform, it must study not only who the late Right Reverend Jesse Jackson was, but also how he operated. He did not merely protest injustice; he built lasting institutions to sustain his quest for justice.
Born in 1941, Jackson emerged from the civil rights movement under the leadership of Dr Martin Luther King, Jr. He marched in Selma. He organised in Chicago. He founded Operation PUSH and later the Rainbow Coalition. In 1984 and 1988, he ran for President of the United States, becoming the first African American to mount a serious national campaign and win millions of votes across racial lines.
He did not win the presidency. But he definitely expanded the imagination of who could lead. And sometimes that is how structural change begins.
Jackson understood something that Nigeria is still struggling to internalise. Protest without structure is noisemaking. Structure without moral vision is empty. A nation requires both structure and vision.
Architecture of Moral Language
Jackson brought moral language into the centre of political discourse. He spoke of dignity, economic justice, inclusion, and accountability. He challenged corporate America and government policy with the vocabulary of conscience.
Nigeria is deeply religious. Churches and mosques overflow. Sermons are powerful. Yet our politics often lacks moral restraint. We speak the language of faith but operate the mechanics of patronage. We invoke God but rarely demand ethical clarity from those in office.
Jackson’s example forces a question. What would Nigerian politics look like if leaders were pressed not only on strategy and tribe but on justice and responsibility? What if we evaluated leadership not just by who benefits, but by who is protected?
Coalitions Across Difference
Jackson’s Rainbow Coalition was not a slogan. It was a deliberate attempt to unite Black Americans, Latinos, labour unions, farmers, and low-income communities under a shared platform of economic and social justice. It required negotiation. It required compromise. It required maturity.
Nigeria is a federation of identities – ethnic, religious, and regional. Yet our coalitions are often temporary arrangements built for elections, not for transformation. They dissolve after victory. They fracture under pressure. We have ethnic champions. We have party loyalists and chieftains. We have influencers…but we lack bridge builders who can gather citizens around shared interests rather than shared enemies.
Jackson’s campaigns proved that diversity is not a weakness. It becomes a weakness only when leaders exploit it instead of organising it. Jackson understood something many movements forget: protest is emotional energy, but institutions are stored power.
Nigeria has seen this before. The resistance that followed the annulment of the June 12, 1993, election did not survive on outrage alone. It survived because labour unions, pro-democracy coalitions, student movements, journalists, religious leaders, and civil society groups worked in uneasy alignment. The pro-democracy movement of the 1990s was not a hashtag. It was infrastructure. It was a coalition. It was architecture. Without that web of organised actors, military rule might have endured longer.
Even the fuel subsidy protests years later revealed the same pattern. When labour federations coordinated action, the nation listened. When the organisation fractured, momentum faded. History keeps teaching the same lesson. Energy without structure exhausts itself. That is the lesson Nigeria must not ignore.
From Protest to Policy
The civil rights movement did not end with marches. It produced legislation. The Civil Rights Act of 1964. The Voting Rights Act of 1965. Structural outcomes followed sustained pressure.
Nigeria trends outrage quickly, hashtags rise, emotions flare. Then the moment fades. What often does not follow is institutional design, policy literacy, electoral strategy, budget scrutiny, and local organising.
Jackson moved from the streets to the ballot. He did not see activism and governance as enemies. He saw them as stages of the same struggle. Nigeria does not need fewer passionate voices. It needs more disciplined movements. It needs citizens who understand that democracy is not event-based. It is process-based.
What made Jesse Jackson’s life particularly instructive was not merely his charisma. It was the ecosystem that produced him.
He emerged from a dense network of Black institutions in America that did not operate in isolation. The African Methodist Episcopal Church laid spiritual and organisational foundations. Prince Hall Freemasons built mutual aid networks and leadership pipelines. Historically Black Colleges and Universities trained generations of professionals. The Divine Nine fraternities and sororities cultivated bonds of service and activism. The NAACP reshaped legal strategy. The Urban League advanced economic mobility.
These were not parallel stories. They were interdependent systems. Leadership moved between them. Resources circulated among them. Victories in one strengthened the others. Remove one pillar, and the structure weakens. This is precisely the argument of our joint bookwork, Built By The Ancestors. Most historical accounts treat such institutions as separate chapters. They are not. They are ecosystems. The durability of a people rests not on one hero but on coordinated pillars of faith, education, economics, law, and civic action.
Jackson was not an accident. He was the architecture itself. Nigeria must ask itself an uncomfortable question: Where is our architecture?
Economic Justice as Stability
Jackson consistently linked race and poverty to economic exclusion. He argued that political rights without economic access produce fragile democracies.
Nigeria is learning that lesson the hard way. Youth unemployment, insecurity, inflation, and regional instability are not isolated crises. They are symptoms of exclusion. When large segments of the population feel economically locked out, frustration becomes combustible. Economic justice is not charity. It is national security.
Hope as Strategy
Perhaps Jackson’s most enduring contribution was not a policy but a posture. He believed in what he called the “architecture of hope.” Not optimism detached from reality. Not a denial of hardship. But structured belief that systems can be changed when people organise deliberately.
Nigeria often oscillates between two extremes: Cynicism and magical thinking. Either nothing will ever change, or change will come through a single election or saviour.
History suggests something different. Change requires sustained effort. It requires a coalition. It requires moral clarity paired with institutional work.
Movements, Not Moments
Jesse Jackson’s presidential campaigns did not end racism. But they shifted representation. They expanded political possibilities. They prepared the ground for future breakthroughs.
Nigeria must learn this lesson. Not every attempt at reform will succeed immediately. Not every campaign will win. But disciplined participation builds capacity. Capacity builds influence, and Influence builds reform.
We cannot afford to be a country of moments only. Moments trend, but movements transform.
If Nigeria desires a different future, it must cultivate leaders who can speak with moral courage and organise with strategic patience. It must nurture citizens who understand that democracy demands more than applause or outrage. It demands structure.
Before we ask why the system does not work, we must ask whether we are building systems strong enough to hold our hopes.
Jackson’s life offers Nigeria a mirror. A nation does not change because it feels injustice. It changes because it organises against it. And that work begins long before the next election cycle. We have voices. We have anger. We have talent. What we have not consistently built is a system strong enough to outlive any one leader.
Jackson’s life reminds us that movements mature when they become institutions. And institutions endure when they are interdependent.
Before we ask whether Nigeria will produce another charismatic reformer, we must ask whether Nigeria is building the pillars that can sustain one. Nations do not rise on moments. They rise on structures. And without structure, even the loudest cry fades into silence.
Mr Ukoh, an alumnus of the American University of Nigeria, Yola, and PhD student at Columbia University, writes from New York
