Feature/OPED
Biafra and Kanu: Foretelling the Possible End
By Omoshola Deji
Nigerian ethnic groups are enduring the pains, rather than enjoying the gains of unity. From 1960 to date, successive governments, both the militarily imposed and the democratically elected, has declared Nigeria’s unity non-negotiable. Double-edged, the willingness to retain a united Nigeria is contrasted by the unwillingness to allow the nationalities negotiate their terms of cohabitation. This inflames the countrywide demand for political-economic restructuring and the quest for Biafra in Southeast, Nigeria.
Championing the immediate struggle for Biafra secession is Nnamdi Nwanekaenyi Kanu – the former director of the London-based Radio Biafra and recently dismissed leader of the proscribed secessionist movement – the Indigenous People of Biafra, IPOB.
The Nigerian military’s invasion of Kanu’s home and IPOB’s proscription as a terrorist group is generating controversy and anxiety in the polity. In any case, Kanu has only been declared missing, not dead. The mere speculations of death, without prove, cannot halt research and analysis on Kanu’s struggle for Biafra, it rather strengthens it.
This piece sets sights on foretelling how Kanu and the struggle for Biafra would ultimately end. A recount-before-analysis approach is adopted to cover the essentials and curtail ambiguity. The struggle of late minority rights activists and secessionist leaders is then examined to foretell the possible end of Kanu and Biafra.
For history, Odumegwu Ojukwu declared Eastern Nigeria a sovereign nation named the Republic of Biafra in 1967, battled the Nigerian army for three years and surrendered Biafra in 1970.
Kanu wilfully assigned himself the duty of accomplishing Ojukwu’s failed mission. He crusades that Biafra restoration is the only solution to Southeast’s marginalization. In no time, Kanu’s popularity rose steeply and the drumbeat of secession resonated into President Muhammadu Buhari’s ears. The dictator turned democrat civilly wields the big stick! Kanu was arrested for treason and other related offenses on October 14, 2015. After prolonged detention without charge, the court ordered Kanu’s release on bail, but the state kept him in custody.
Buhari famed Kanu. The state’s wilful disobedience of court order earned Kanu sympathy among the Southeasterners who largely grades Buhari as sectional and anti-Southeast. If Kanu was freed when he perfected his first bail conditions, he probably won’t have gained the kind of compassion that astoundingly transformed into support and discipleship in the Southeast.
After scores of protests and legal wrangle, Justice Binta Nyako, on April 25, 2017, granted Kanu a fresh bail on the key conditions that he must not be seen amidst a crowd of more than ten persons, must not grant interviews, hold or attend rallies. Kanu fearlessly dishonored the bail conditions and continued his advocacy for Biafra after he was freed. He called for referendum, but allegedly threatened war, berated other ethnic factions and purveyed hate.
Kanu rationalized his bail flout on emulating Buhari – the president who “does not obey court orders”. Fact checked, Buhari is still disobeying the order to release the former national security adviser, Sambo Dasuki, and the Shi’a Muslim cleric, Ibrahim El-Zakzaky. Reminiscent of a chain-smoker irritated by smoke, the same Buhari government that dishonor court orders implored the court to revoke Kanu’s bail.
The wheels of justice grind too slowly for Buhari’s military oriented, democratic government to hope on. On September 10, 2017, the military invaded Kanu’s home and reportedly left their – Fela Kuti’s asserted – regular trademark: sorrows, tears and blood. Kanu has since been out of sight. There is more to his disappearance than meets the eye. He is either dead, in solitary confinement, or has absconded when the military overpowered the IPOB members that formed human-shield round his house.
Mind boggling, could an outspoken Kanu ever abandon his supporters at such a crucial moment, forsaking them to die of state’s bullet? Could an outspoken Kanu ever keep mute on IPOB’s proscription as a terrorist organization? While these questions await answers, a major pointer that Kanu is alive emerged. IPOB sacked him as the director of Radio Biafra. Concurring with the arguments of rights activists and senior lawyer, Festus Keyamo, after declaring the army killed Kanu, did IPOB wake him from the grave to question him over allegations of inciting violence and misappropriation of funds before sacking him? Presumably alive, what would be the ultimate end of Kanu?
Kanu may end like Isaac Adaka Boro (1938-68). Boro fought for the emancipation of the Niger-Delta, decades before it became a popular catchphrase. The new generation activists – including Asari Dokubo, Ateke Tom and Government Tompolo – only picked the baton to finish the race that consumed Boro. The oil firms and state’s exploitation of the Niger-Delta frustrated Boro to declare an independent “Niger Delta Peoples Republic” on 23 February, 1966. Boro’s armed militia, the Niger-Delta Volunteer Force, battled the Nigerian army for twelve days before losing out.
Boro took up arms against the state and later picked up arms to fight for the state. On the eve of Nigerian civil war, the then head-of-state, retired Gen Yakubu Gowon released Boro from jail and enrolled him as a Major in the Nigerian Army to fight against Biafra. Boro fought gallantly, but was mysteriously killed in active service after he liberated the Niger-Delta from Biafra.
To the point, if Boro who once confronted the state could be tricked, used and allegedly killed by the state, Kanu may end up in a similar situation. The power-hungry opposition party may brainwash Kanu that he would get Biafra or juicy political appointment if he uses his influence to ensure the Southeast vote for the party. Kanu may later be silenced with death or relegated – like the All Progressives Congress, APC, is doing to Bola Tinubu and Atiku Abubakar – once the party gains control of power.
Into the bargain, if Tinubu’s henchmen withdraw their support for Buhari in the Southwest, the APC might opt to win the southeast in 2019 through Kanu. Cast no doubt, if a strong-willed Boro could work for Gowon, never boast that Kanu cannot work for the APC in the future.
Boro died fighting for the recognition of minority rights in the Niger-Delta, but the people are still suffering amidst surplus. Kanu too may die for Biafra and the struggle would continue for decades without Biafra coming to pass.
Kanu may end like Ken Saro-Wiwa (1941-95). Saro-Wiwa wrote passionately against the oil exploitation, environmental degradation and human rights abuses in Ogoni. He swapped Boro’s gun for pen by declaring to his people that “I do not want any blood spilt, not of an Ogoni man, not of any strangers amongst us. We are going to demand our right peacefully, non-violently and we shall win”. Despite being non-violent, the Sani Abacha military regime could not tolerate or negotiate with Saro-Wiwa. He was silenced with death!
The Abacha government accused Saro-Wiwa and eight other activists of instigating the riot that led to the murder of four Ogoni chiefs. It was widely reported that Saro-Wiwa did not participate in the riot because the military had denied him entry into Ogoni on the riot day. After nine months in detention, the Ogoni-nine were arraigned before a tribunal that sentenced them to death-by-hanging on October 31, 1995. In the face of public outcry and global plea for clemency, the Abacha government hanged Saro-Wiwa and the eight activists on November 10, 1995.
One may argue that such gruesomeness is not possible under a democratic government, but if the court, for instance, hands Kanu a death penalty in his ongoing treason trial, the state may hurriedly execute him on judicial grounds, when all means of appeal are exhausted.
Buhari and Abacha are former military dictators. It is thus quite possible for the military that “publicly” executed Saro-Wiwa (under Abacha) to secretly execute Kanu (under Buhari) when soldiers invaded his home. If Saro-Wiwa was executed for an offense he (possibly) didn’t commit, Kanu too can be later accused and indicted for same. The state forces that are desperate to silence him and the politicians displeased with his rising popularity may use the Judas among his disciples to frame him up on crimes such as murder or illegal arms importation.
Kanu may end or might have ended his desire for Biafra like Ojukwu. If a gallant military officer like Ojukwu could abscond into exile, leaving the Southeasterner’s to languish in anguish at the height of the civil war, it is possible that a diaspora returnee and city dweller like Kanu might have absconded and possibly bowed cheaply to the superior force of the Nigerian state.
Ojukwu and Kanu aimed for Biafra but their style of steering secessionist movement differs. Ojukwu showed bravery by backing his Biafra declaration with action. In contrast, Kanu seems lost in focus. Challenging elites that are not willing to disintegrate or allow for referendum goes beyond rants and threats. Kanu’s actions have so far revealed that he lacks the essentials needed to restore Biafra. His uncouth orations also show he lacks the maturity.
As observed in Africa, Kanu may help free Biafra from Nigeria and hold on to it as Mugabe did in Zimbabwe. Secession doesn’t guarantee peace and equity. Biafra may disintegrate to grapple with ethno-religious violence and a survival economy like that of the Central African Republic. Biafra may secede to know no peace. It may be another South Sudan that gained independence, only to start another round of ethnic violence and civil war.
On the other hand, Kanu may end up being a replica of Singapore’s Lee Kuan Yew. He may, by luck or circumstance, get Biafra and swiftly transform it from an underdeveloped nation to a developed one. Biafra may later develop to the envy of Nigeria; just as Singapore is more developed than Malaysia.
So long as the Buhari government insists that Nigeria’s unity is non-negotiable, our cohabitation must be constantly negotiated to reflect equity and fairness. Rational distribution of power and resources is breath for the survival of Nigeria. Force, intimidation and harassment would not end the agitation for Biafra. Secession can only be averted if Nigeria is restructured for the minority to enjoy rights.
Kanu would either conquer Nigeria or be consumed by Nigeria. One or the other, his silence must not be misjudged. He is either busy strategizing his comeback or his mission to disintegrate Nigeria has died in him, or with him.
Omoshola Deji is a political and public affairs analyst. He wrote in via mo******@***oo.com
By Blaise Udunze
Daily, the world watches Nigeria through a familiar lens in what appears to be a gory situation. Especially in cases when the news headlines tell stories of farmer-herder clashes, bandit attacks, kidnappings, villages reduced to ashes or deserted by the dwellers, as thousands of Nigerians have been displaced across states such as Zamfara, Plateau, Benue, Niger, Kaduna and Nasarawa. Subliminally, this is about to become a similarly ugly occurrence in southwestern Nigeria, which is fast becoming obvious if not nipped in the bud quickly.
Recorded data have shown that bandits, Boko Haram, and others killed over 190,000 Nigerians in 17 years and displaced 3.7 million people.
A human rights organisation, the International Society for Civil Liberties and Rule of Law (Intersociety), in its fearful revelation, has said that no fewer than 190,150 Nigerians have been killed by bandits, Boko Haram insurgents, and suspected armed herdsmen between July 2009 and March 19, 2026, as this calls for concern.
The dominant explanations often point to ethnic tensions, religious divisions, climate change, shrinking grazing routes or weak security institutions. No doubt, those factors are certainly part of Nigeria’s complex security crisis. Yet another question deserves serious examination.
What if, in some locations, the violence is also serving another purpose? What if some of the territories experiencing repeated displacement are the same places sitting atop some of Nigeria’s most valuable mineral deposits? More importantly, if such a pattern exists, who benefits when communities disappear?
Of a truth, these questions are uncomfortable, but undeniably they deserve careful investigation rather than dismissal.
For ages, Nigeria has been naturally endowed, and it is estimated to be rich in enormous significant reserves of gold, lithium, uranium, tin, columbite and other strategic minerals increasingly sought after in the global transition to clean energy technologies. As international demand for battery minerals continues to rise, these resources have become far more valuable than they were only a decade ago.
If one overlays publicly available geological information with maps showing persistent violence, some observers argue that striking geographical overlaps appear in several regions. Such overlaps alone cannot establish causation. Correlation is not proof of conspiracy. However, they raise questions worthy of independent scrutiny.
One issue attracting increasing attention and adequately yearns for answer is whether prolonged insecurity may inadvertently or deliberately create conditions that make mineral extraction easier.
Under Nigeria’s Nigerian Minerals and Mining Act 2007, mineral resources belong to the Federal Government, while mining rights are granted through licences and leases. Community engagement and land access are expected to form part of the licensing process, although implementation varies depending on circumstances. This raises an important policy question.
What happens when the communities expected to participate in those processes have already fled because of violence?
Displacement changes the dynamics of land ownership, consent and access. While no evidence automatically proves that attacks are orchestrated to facilitate mining, the sequence of violence followed by renewed commercial activity in some locations deserves closer examination by regulators, lawmakers and investigative journalists.
In conflict studies, researchers have long observed that wars often generate economic winners alongside humanitarian losers. Could elements of Nigeria’s insecurity also be producing economic beneficiaries?
Reports over the years have documented concerns about illegal mining operations across parts of northern Nigeria. Government agencies themselves have repeatedly acknowledged that criminal networks profit from the country’s vast mineral wealth. The unresolved question is whether isolated criminality has, in some instances, evolved into more sophisticated alliances involving political influence, financial interests and international supply chains. If so, the implications extend far beyond Nigeria.
Invariably, it is clearly known that lithium has become one of the world’s most strategic commodities, powering electric vehicle batteries and renewable energy storage systems. Gold has always remained one of the safest global investment assets during periods of uncertainty. Meanwhile, it is well confirmed that the global appetite for these minerals creates enormous financial incentives.
Suppose violent displacement reduces resistance to extraction. Suppose shell companies subsequently acquire mining interests. Suppose minerals then leave Nigeria through legitimate-looking export documentation while their true value remains understated.
These scenarios remain allegations unless supported by verifiable evidence. Yet they outline a framework that investigators may wish to test rather than ignore. Financial crime experts frequently identify trade mis-invoicing as one of the most common methods of illicit financial flows worldwide.
Could Nigeria’s solid minerals sector be vulnerable to similar practices? If valuable lithium ore is deliberately but inaccurately described as lower-value material on export documents, substantial wealth could potentially leave the country without reflecting its true market value. Likewise, if unrefined gold exits through privileged channels with limited scrutiny, questions naturally arise about oversight, transparency and accountability over criminal activities which have continued to stunt and disrupt the country’s socio-economic growth and at the same time cause carnage.
Such possibilities are not accusations against any particular institution or company. Rather, they illustrate why stronger monitoring systems are increasingly essential. Another question concerns logistics.
With the high level of criminal activities, industrial mining requires heavy machinery, diesel supplies, transportation networks and specialised personnel. These are not operations that can remain invisible indefinitely.
If certain territories are genuinely too dangerous for security agencies, how do industrial-scale extraction activities reportedly continue in some remote locations? If they do, who protects those operations? Who authorises their movement? Who verifies what is extracted? Who ensures royalties and export revenues reach public coffers? These are governance questions that demand institutional answers.
Equally important is the international dimension. Minerals extracted in Nigeria ultimately enter global supply chains. Gold may pass through international refining hubs before entering financial markets. Lithium may become part of battery manufacturing destined for electric vehicles, which are being sold across Europe, North America and Asia.
One known fact is that consumers purchasing products containing these minerals rarely know the full story of where they originated.
Increasingly, however, investors and governments are demanding ethical sourcing standards that trace minerals from extraction to final manufacture.
A critical factor that must be taken into cognisance is that if insecurity is creating opportunities for illegal or unethical extraction anywhere in the world, multinational companies have responsibilities alongside national governments, of which the onus falls on the Nigerian government.
Transparency cannot stop at the mine gate. Nor should accountability end at national borders. Another issue requiring attention concerns beneficial ownership.
Across many jurisdictions, shell companies can obscure the identities of individuals ultimately controlling commercial assets. If politically exposed persons or powerful business interests are hidden behind complex corporate structures registered offshore, identifying beneficiaries becomes significantly more difficult. This challenge is hardly unique to Nigeria.
Findings showed that from Latin America to Central Africa and Southeast Asia, resistant corporate networks have frequently complicated efforts to combat corruption and illicit resource extraction. That is precisely why open corporate registries, beneficial ownership databases and transparent mining licence disclosures are becoming global governance priorities. For Nigeria, the stakes could hardly be higher.
The country stands at the centre of the world’s emerging critical minerals economy. The Nigerian government can’t feign ignorance of the fact that, when handled transparently, these resources could finance infrastructure, education, healthcare, and industrial development for generations.
In no way would the government claim not knowing that when handled poorly, they risk becoming another chapter in the well-documented “resource curse,” where extraordinary natural wealth coincides with persistent poverty, insecurity and institutional weakness.
The ultimate challenge, therefore, is not simply about mining. It is about governance. It is about whether public institutions possess both the independence and capacity to ensure that natural resources benefit citizens rather than narrow interests. It is about whether conflict zones receive genuine peacebuilding efforts instead of becoming forgotten frontiers. And it is about whether international markets demand accountability with the same enthusiasm they demand raw materials.
None of these questions should be answered through speculation. They require rigorous investigations, forensic financial analysis, satellite imagery, mining license audits, customs records, beneficial ownership disclosures and courageous journalism.
They require governments willing to open their books. They require international cooperation capable of tracing money across borders. Most importantly, they require asking questions that have too often remained unasked.
Perhaps Nigeria’s security crisis is exactly what it appears to be: a tragic convergence of historical grievances, weak institutions, criminality and environmental pressures. Or perhaps, in some places, another layer of economic incentive deserves closer scrutiny.
Until those questions are thoroughly investigated, one possibility will continue to linger. Maybe the world’s attention has been fixed on the blood spilt above ground, while too little attention has been paid to the extraordinary wealth lying beneath it.
Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos and can be reached via: bl***********@***il.com
Feature/OPED
What Does Nigeria’s $51bn Reserves Milestone Mean if Most New Foreign Money Can Leave Quickly?
Nigeria’s foreign reserves have climbed to about $51 billion, a decade-plus high, according to the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN). EBC Financial Group (EBC) notes that this reflects stronger investor confidence, but the second half may show whether it holds, as the build rests on three cyclical drivers: oil earnings, short-term foreign money and a narrowing official-to-street naira gap.
Reserves rose from about $32 billion in April 2024, during a dollar shortage, to about $51 billion now, near the CBN’s target. Much came from two cyclical sources, strong oil earnings and money chasing high-yielding naira assets, so EBC expects the pace to slow or reverse. Fitch Ratings, a major international credit rating agency, expects a marginal decline to about $47 billion by the end of 2026, citing higher spending and external pressures.
David Precious, Senior Market Analyst at EBC Financial Group, said, “Nigeria’s reserve build is real but may not be durable yet, because nearly all of the new money is the kind that can leave quickly. Of the $10.37 billion that came in over the first quarter, the overwhelming majority was short-term portfolio funds rather than long-term investment, so a shift in oil prices, global interest rates or confidence in the naira might pull a large part of it straight back out.”
Most New Money Can Still Leave Quickly
The composition of the foreign inflows explains the caution over how long the build can last. The country attracted $10.37 billion in foreign investment in the first quarter of 2026, up 83.83 per cent year-on-year, according to the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS). Of that, $9.86 billion or 95.09 per cent, was portfolio money, largely short-term naira debt such as Treasury bills that investors can sell at the next auction, while foreign direct investment, the long-term kind that builds factories and jobs, was $135.08 million, or 1.30 per cent. Put simply, of each dollar coming in, about 95 cents can leave quickly, and barely one cent stays.
That money supports reserves while it stays. Dollars brought in to buy naira assets add to market supply, letting the CBN hold more reserves and steady the naira. It leaves when conditions change. Nigeria earns most of its export dollars from oil and gas, so lower oil prices mean fewer dollars, and as a member of the Organisation of the Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC), it cannot simply produce more, output capped by quota and reduced by theft and ageing fields. Higher global interest rates draw money toward safer returns abroad, and a weakening naira prompts investors to sell early. When oil fell in 2016 and 2020, foreign investors withdrew and could not convert naira to dollars as supply dried up, leaving the CBN to clear more than $7 billion in trapped obligations into 2024.
The Oil Boost is No Longer Certain
Oil looked like a dependable source of the dollars behind the reserves only months ago. Earlier in 2026, concern over disruption around the Strait of Hormuz lifted crude prices, and stronger receipts flowed in, with crude oil export earnings of $8.11 billion in the first quarter in the CBN’s balance-of-payments data. That support is now easing. The tension has subsided, and Brent traded near $72 on June 29, down about 24 per cent over the month, back to pre-conflict levels. With the price boost gone and output constrained, reserves are more exposed, leaning on non-oil earnings and investor patience rather than oil.
The Naira Still Trades at Two Prices
The naira has traded at two prices, an official rate and a higher parallel-market rate, and closing that gap into one trusted price is what many investors might watch most. Before committing funds, they may want assurance they can convert naira to dollars at a fair rate when they exit, and a wide gap revives the fear of being trapped that lingers from earlier shortages. The gap has narrowed to roughly N20 to N30, with the CBN’s official rate near N1,380 per dollar on June 26 against parallel-market quotes around N1,400. The International Monetary Fund (IMF) 2026 Article IV review urged Nigeria to depend less on this fast-moving portfolio money and to keep phasing out its multiple exchange-rate practices. The CBN’s Foreign Exchange Manual, in force from 1 June, is intended to make the market clearer, though such rules build confidence only once investors can freely trade dollars at the posted rate.
What could Make the Build Durable
A few signs that may show the build turning durable include a smaller gap between the official and street naira rates, more long-term foreign investment, and steadier oil earnings. A gap that stays small, now roughly N20 to N30, may mean investors trust the official rate and no longer need the street market. A clear rise in foreign direct investment, only $135 million last quarter against $9.86 billion of short-term money, might mean lasting capital is replacing funds that can leave at the next auction. Oil earnings that hold up, rather than sliding from the low $70s, should help keep reserves steady, since oil and gas bring in most of Nigeria’s export dollars.
“Reserves built on money chasing high yields can fall as fast as they rose, as they did after the last two oil shocks, when investors left, and the CBN spent years clearing a foreign-exchange backlog,” Precious added. “What holds through a downturn is slower money, direct investment, steady oil and non-oil export earnings and one credible naira rate, and that is the shift Nigeria has yet to make.”
By Olajumoke Bello
Across Nigeria, small and medium enterprises remain the backbone of economic activity. They drive trade, create jobs, and sustain millions of livelihoods. Yet, despite their importance, many SMEs continue to operate below their full potential due to persistent structural challenges.
Access to finance remains one of the most cited constraints. However, the issue today goes beyond the availability of capital. Many businesses struggle with financial readiness, weak documentation, and limited understanding of what lenders require. This often leads to missed opportunities, even when funding options exist.
At the same time, SMEs face gaps in market access and visibility. Business owners operate in highly localised environments, with limited exposure to broader networks that can unlock partnerships, new markets, and growth opportunities. This isolation can constrain scalability and reduce long-term competitiveness.
Equally important is the capability gap. Many entrepreneurs grow through resilience and experience but lack structured knowledge on critical areas such as financial management, export readiness, and digital adoption. Without this, even well-capitalised businesses can struggle to sustain growth.
These challenges point to a clear need for a more practical and integrated approach to SME support. It is no longer sufficient to offer standalone solutions. SMEs require ecosystems that combine knowledge, access, and direct engagement in ways that reflect how they actually operate.
A key shift is the move from centralised interventions to localised engagement. SMEs are deeply influenced by their immediate environments, whether markets, industrial clusters, or trade corridors. Solutions must therefore be brought closer to where these businesses function, allowing for more relevant support and stronger relationships.
Another important shift is from awareness to action. Business owners do not only need information; they need insights that they can apply immediately. This includes understanding how to structure their finances, how to access trade opportunities, and how to connect with the right partners to scale their operations.
There is also a growing need for continuity. Many SME-focused initiatives deliver strong initial impact but lack follow-through. For support to be effective, it must extend beyond one-off engagements into sustained relationships, with clear pathways for onboarding, advisory, and growth.
For financial institutions, this presents both responsibility and an opportunity. Supporting SMEs now requires moving beyond transactional banking to deeper partnership models. It requires understanding businesses at a granular level and co-creating solutions that evolve with their needs.
At Stanbic IBTC, this perspective continues to shape our approach to SME development. Our focus is on delivering practical support that translates into real business outcomes, helping enterprises grow, compete, and contribute more meaningfully to the economy.
As part of this commitment, we are extending our SME engagement to the regions through the Nigeria Business Summit Regional Tour. The tour will take structured, on-ground activations into key commercial hubs, where SMEs can access funding guidance, trade insights, advisory support, and direct engagement with financial experts.
The regional tour will take place across five strategic locations, bringing these solutions closer to business owners in Aba, Onitsha, Ibadan and Kano.
This approach reflects an important principle. When support moves closer to businesses and when solutions are delivered in ways that are practical and continuous, SMEs are better positioned to grow sustainably. In turn, this strengthens not only individual enterprises but the broader economy.
Olajumoke Bello is the Head of Enterprise Banking at Stanbic IBTC Bank
