Feature/OPED
History is Watching: Tinubu’s Moment to Rescue Nigeria’s Stolen Future
By Blaise Udunze
Governance is not complicated. It is about people and the resources entrusted to serve them. When resources are managed wisely, the people prosper, and prosperity spreads. Mismanage them, and poverty multiplies. Nigeria’s tragedy is not scarcity. It is stewardship.
For decades, Nigeria, described as Africa’s largest oil producer, has earned hundreds of billions of dollars, yet remains home to some of the world’s poorest citizens. That contradiction is not accidental. It is systemic. It reflects policy distortion, institutional weakness, and a culture of impunity that has too often treated public wealth as political spoils rather than a national trust.
The Abuja-based Independent Media and Policy Initiative (IMPI) recently captured this paradox bluntly by saying, Nigeria’s poverty crisis is not the result of inadequate resources, but of persistent failure to manage them prudently and sustainably. It described the crisis as a “self-inflicted economic malady.” That phrase should trouble every public official.
Between 1980 and 2015, Nigeria rode multiple oil booms. Instead of converting windfalls into diversified productivity, the country succumbed to what economists call the Dutch disease. Oil revenues surged. The naira appreciated. Imports became cheaper. Domestic production became uncompetitive. Agriculture declined. Manufacturing withered.
IMPI’s analysis shows that between 1980 and 1986, exchange rate appreciation crippled local industries and turned Nigeria from a major agricultural exporter into a net food importer. Cocoa, palm oil, and rubber, once pillars of export strength, gave way to dependency. A parallel distortion emerged, the so-called “Nigerian disease.” Rural labour migrated to cities in search of oil-fueled wage spikes. Farming declined. Food insecurity deepened, which has continued to linger each day. Over-mechanised and poorly coordinated agricultural investments, uncompleted irrigation projects, and subsidies skewed toward politically connected elites widened inequality. Oil wealth created the wrong impression of prosperity while hollowing out the economy’s productive core.
Former Vice President Yemi Osinbajo once framed the issue plainly: Nigeria’s challenge is not geographical restructuring but resource management and service delivery. After decades of vast oil earnings, the uncomfortable question remains. Where is the infrastructure?
If mismanagement were purely historical, recovery might simply require time and discipline. But the problem is not confined to the past, and this is because between 2010 and 2026, an estimated $214 billion, roughly N300 trillion, has been flagged as missing, diverted, unrecovered, irregularly spent, or trapped in non-transparent fiscal structures. These figures reveal that they are not speculative but arise from audit reports, legislative investigations, civil society litigation, and investigative findings across administrations.
The oil sector alone provides sobering examples. In 2014, unremitted oil revenues triggered national outrage. Years later, audit queries continue to trail the Nigerian National Petroleum Company Limited. The names of institutions change. The pattern persists. The Central Bank of Nigeria has also faced audit alarms over trillions in unremitted surpluses and questionable intervention facilities. Auditor-General has flagged failures to remit operating surpluses into the Consolidated Revenue Fund, alongside hundreds of billions allegedly disbursed to unidentified beneficiaries under intervention schemes, which is alarming and a common fraudulent practice.
Across ministries, departments, and agencies, trillions have been cited in unsupported expenditures, unremitted taxes, procurement irregularities, and statutory liabilities left unrecovered. The institutions differ. The language of audit reports varies. The years change. The pattern does not.
A natural occurrence, which is the plain truth, and unarguably, is that when electricity funds disappear, the grid collapses. Also, when agricultural loans remain unrecovered, food prices surge. The same goes when social investment programmes stall due to bureaucratic lack of transparency; the vulnerable remain exposed. Nigeria borrows not only because revenue is insufficient but because leakage is persistent.
The 2026 fiscal projections sharpen the dilemma. This has continued to raise concern as seen in the proposed N58.47 trillion budget, which carries a N25.91 trillion deficit, with N15.9 trillion allocated to debt servicing. What signifies a systemic failure is that nearly half of the projected federal revenue will service past loans before development priorities are funded. The truth be told, borrowing is not inherently destructive. Economies such as the United States deploy deficit financing strategically to expand productivity. The difference lies in what the borrowing finances.
To date, Nigeria’s deficits are increasingly funded by recurrent obligations rather than productivity-enhancing infrastructure. This is why Nigeria’s domestic borrowing persistently crowds out private-sector credit, driving up interest rates and stifling enterprise. Time after time, the nation has continued to witness how weak revenue mobilisation, overt oil dependence, and institutional inefficiencies compound the strain, and for these reasons, public debt is projected to has surpass N177.14 trillion by the end of 2026, which is driven by the budget deficit in 2026 Appropriation Bill.
Based on what is obtainable in other advance country, debt becomes sustainable only when borrowed funds are channeled into growth-enhancing investments, institutions ensure transparency and value for money, and economic expansion outpaces debt accumulation. When these conditions weaken, deficits evolve into a fiscal trap.
Despite some of the challenges occasioned by mismanaged resources and leakages, policymakers project cautious optimism. The Central Bank forecasts GDP growth of approximately 4.49 percent, moderating inflation, and foreign reserves exceeding $50 billion. On paper, stability appears to be returning. But stability is not prosperity.
Take, for instance, between 2006 and 2014, Nigeria recorded average GDP growth rates of six to seven percent, peaking near eight percent. Yet poverty remained stubbornly high, judging by the lived experience of the populace. This shows that growth without inclusion is only an arithmetic, not development. Today, households confront elevated food prices despite the report that food inflation fell from 29.63 per cent in January 2025 to 8.89 per cent in January 2026, energy costs, and unemployment. Yes, one may say that the exchange-rate unification and fuel subsidy removal were economically rational reforms. However, without aggressive domestic production expansion and credible social safety nets, adjustment costs fall heavily on citizens.
The concept of the “resource curse,” coined by Professor Richard Auty, explains why resource-rich nations often experience weaker institutions and lower long-term growth than resource-poor peers. Nigeria truly exemplifies that irony. Yet the curse is not inevitable. This is because countries such as Norway and Botswana transformed natural resource wealth into long-term prosperity through disciplined institutions, sovereign wealth management, and uncompromising transparency, which happens to be foreign to Nigeria’s system. The difference was not geology. It was governance.
Former President Olusegun Obasanjo has never been quite over resource plundering as he lamented that Nigeria has squandered divine gifts. The same lies with the former Minister George Akume, who warned that no nation grows if a quarter of its resources are consistently mismanaged. The former Anambra governor, Peter Obi, observed bluntly that wealth cannot be entrusted to those without integrity. The United Nations is also amongst those who have repeatedly warned that mismanaged natural resources fuel instability and conflict. Where institutions are weak, resource wealth becomes combustible. Nigeria has navigated that edge for decades.
Nigeria does not suffer from a shortage of reform announcements. It suffers from a gap between announcement and enforcement. The Treasury Single Account was designed to consolidate public funds under constitutional oversight. Yet significant funds have periodically remained outside complete transparency. The problem is that audit findings often accumulate without visible recovery, prosecution, or systemic reform.
The reality is that if every naira saved from subsidy reform is not transparently reinvested in infrastructure, healthcare, education, and productivity, public trust will erode further. If intervention facilities are not tracked and repaid, agriculture will stagnate. If oil revenues are not fully remitted and independently audited, diversification will remain rhetorical, just as they have defined the system today. What will definitely propel a change when visible enforcement, recoveries, prosecutions, and institutional strengthening must replace quiet reports and circular memos.
President Bola Ahmed Tinubu stands at a consequential intersection due to the critical issues unfolding. His administration has initiated painful but necessary reforms in the areas of fuel subsidy removal, exchange-rate unification, and fiscal restructuring. One stands to say that these measures aim to restore macroeconomic order. But for a fact, macroeconomic stability is a foundation, not a destination. His presidency will either mark the beginning of Nigeria’s fiscal rescue or consolidate a system that mortgages tomorrow to survive today.
Human capital cannot remain peripheral. Education aligned with labour-market needs, vocational capacity, healthcare access, and social protection are economic multiplier, not welfare indulgences. Capital expenditure must prioritise integrated infrastructure like power transmission, logistics corridors, and digital connectivity, that unlocks productivity. Every earned naira must enter the Federation Account transparently. Every statutory surplus must be constitutionally remitted. Every diversion must carry a consequence.
One thing that must be understood today is that Nigeria’s future will not be determined solely by oil output or GDP growth percentages. It will be determined by whether resources translate into reliable electricity, functioning roads, expanding industries, competitive exports, and rising household incomes. A nation can borrow to build bridges. Or it can borrow to pay salaries. The former compounds growth. The latter compounds debt.
If deficits translate into visible infrastructure, industrial expansion, thriving private enterprise, and strengthened revenue generation, history will record this era as a bold recalibration. If not, it will be remembered as deferred reckoning.
Nigeria has been wealthy for decades. What it has lacked is disciplined guardianship of that wealth. End the era of systemic leakage and institutional silence, or preside over its continuation. The choice is stark but clear. The point is, this is not just about one leader’s legacy; it is about the future of over 200 million Nigerians and generations.
And for nearly 200 million Nigerians, the outcome will define not just a presidency, but a generation.
Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos and can be reached via: [email protected]
Feature/OPED
Guide to Employee Training That Reinforces Workplace Safety Standards
Workplace safety is not sustained by policies alone. It is built through consistent training that shapes daily behaviour, decision-making, and accountability across every level of an organisation. When employees understand not only what safety rules exist but why they matter, they are far more likely to follow them and intervene when risks arise. Effective safety-focused training protects workers, strengthens operations, and reduces costly incidents that disrupt productivity and morale.
As industries evolve and workplaces become more complex, employee training must go beyond basic orientation sessions. Reinforcing safety standards requires an ongoing, structured approach that adapts to new risks, changing regulations, and real-world job demands. A thoughtful training strategy helps create a culture where safety is a shared responsibility rather than a checklist item.
Establishing a Foundation of Safety Awareness
The first purpose of workplace safety training is awareness. Employees cannot avoid hazards they do not understand. Comprehensive training introduces common workplace risks, clarifies acceptable behaviour, and sets expectations for personal responsibility. This foundational knowledge empowers employees to recognise unsafe conditions before incidents occur.
Safety awareness training should be tailored to the specific environment in which employees work. Office settings require education on ergonomics, electrical safety, and emergency evacuation procedures, while industrial workplaces demand detailed instruction on machinery risks, protective equipment, and material handling. When training reflects actual job conditions, employees are more engaged and better equipped to apply what they learn.
Clear communication is essential during this stage. Using plain language and real examples helps employees connect training concepts to daily tasks. When safety awareness becomes part of how employees think and talk about their work, it begins to shape behaviour consistently across the organisation.
Integrating Safety Training into Daily Operations
Safety training is most effective when it is integrated into everyday work rather than treated as a one-time event. Ongoing reinforcement ensures that safety standards remain top of mind as tasks, equipment, and responsibilities change. Regular training sessions create opportunities to refresh knowledge, address new risks, and correct unsafe habits before they lead to injury.
Incorporating short safety discussions into team meetings helps normalise these conversations. Supervisors play a critical role by modelling safe behaviour and reinforcing expectations during routine interactions. When employees see safety emphasised alongside productivity goals, it reinforces the message that both are equally important.
Hands-on training also strengthens retention. Demonstrations, practice scenarios, and real-time feedback allow employees to apply safety principles in controlled settings. This experiential approach builds confidence and reduces hesitation when employees encounter hazards in real situations.
Aligning Training with Regulatory Requirements
Workplace safety training must align with applicable regulations and industry standards to ensure legal compliance and worker protection. Laws and regulations change frequently, making it essential for organisations to keep training materials updated. Failure to do so can expose employees to unnecessary risk and organisations to legal consequences.
Training programs should clearly explain relevant safety regulations and how they apply to specific roles. Employees are more likely to comply when rules are presented as practical safeguards rather than abstract mandates. Documenting training completion and maintaining accurate records also demonstrates organisational commitment to compliance.
Many organisations rely on support from compliance training companies to navigate complex regulatory landscapes and design programs that meet both legal and operational needs. These partnerships can help ensure training remains accurate, consistent, and aligned with evolving requirements without overwhelming internal resources.
Encouraging Participation and Accountability
Effective safety training depends on active participation rather than passive attendance. Employees should be encouraged to ask questions, share concerns, and contribute insights based on their experiences. When workers feel heard, they become more invested in maintaining a safe environment.
Creating accountability is equally important. Training should clarify individual responsibilities and outline the consequences of ignoring safety standards. Employees need to understand that safety is not optional or secondary to performance goals. Reinforcement from leadership ensures that unsafe behaviour is addressed consistently and constructively.
Peer accountability also strengthens safety culture. When training emphasises teamwork and shared responsibility, employees are more likely to watch out for one another and intervene when they see risky behaviour. This collective approach reduces reliance on supervision alone and builds resilience across the workforce.
Adapting Training for Long-Term Effectiveness
Workplace safety training must evolve alongside organisational growth and workforce changes. New hires, role transitions, and technological updates introduce risks that require refreshed instruction. Periodic assessments help identify gaps in knowledge and opportunities for improvement.
Data from incident reports, near misses, and employee feedback provides valuable insight into training effectiveness. Adjusting content based on real outcomes ensures that training remains relevant and impactful. Organisations that treat training as a dynamic process are better equipped to respond to emerging risks.
Long-term effectiveness also depends on reinforcement beyond formal sessions. Visual reminders, updated procedures, and accessible reporting tools help sustain awareness. When safety standards are supported through multiple channels, employees receive consistent cues that reinforce training messages daily.
Conclusion
Reinforcing workplace safety standards through employee training requires intention, consistency, and adaptability. Training that builds awareness, integrates into daily operations, aligns with regulations, and encourages accountability creates a safer environment for everyone involved. When employees understand their role in maintaining safety, they are more confident, engaged, and prepared to prevent harm.
A strong training program is not simply a compliance exercise. It is an investment in people and performance. Organisations that prioritise meaningful safety training protect their workforce while fostering trust, stability, and long-term success.
Feature/OPED
Debt is Dragging Nigeria’s Future Down
By Abba Dukawa
A quiet fear is spreading across the hearts of Nigerians—one that grows heavier with every new headline about rising debt. It is no longer just numbers on paper; it feels like a shadow stretching over the nation’s future. The reality is stark and unsettling: nearly 50% of Nigeria’s revenue is now used to service debt. That is not just unsustainable—it is suffocating.
Behind these figures lies a deeper tragedy. Millions of Nigerians are trapped in what experts call “Multidimensional Poverty,” struggling daily for dignity and survival, while a privileged few continue to live in comfort, untouched by the hardship tightening around the nation. The contrast is painful, and the silence around it is even louder.
Since assuming office, Bola Ahmed Tinubu has embarked on an aggressive borrowing path, presenting it as a necessary step to revive the economy, rebuild infrastructure, and stabilise key sectors.
Between 2023 and 2026, billions of dollars have been secured or proposed in foreign loans. On paper, it is a strategy of hope. But in the hearts of many Nigerians, it feels like a gamble with consequences yet to unfold.
The numbers are staggering. A borrowing plan exceeding $21 billion, backed by the National Assembly, alongside additional billions in loans and grants, signals a government determined to keep spending and building. Another $6.9 billion facility follows closely behind. These are not just financial decisions; they are commitments that will echo into generations yet unborn.
And so, the questions refuse to go away. Who will bear this burden? Who will repay these debts when the time comes? Will it not fall on ordinary Nigerians already stretched thin to carry the weight of decisions they never made?
There is a growing fear that the nation may be walking into a future where its people become strangers in their own land, bound by obligations to distant creditors.
Even more troubling is the sense that something is not adding up. The removal of fuel subsidy was meant to free up resources, to create breathing room for meaningful development.
But where are the results? Why does it feel like sacrifice has not translated into relief? The silence surrounding these questions breeds suspicion, and suspicion slowly erodes trust. As of December 31, 2025, Nigeria’s public debt has risen to N159.28 trillion, according to the Debt Management Office.
The numbers keep climbing, but for many citizens, life keeps declining. This disconnect is what hurts the most. Borrowing, in itself, is not the enemy. Nations borrow to grow, to build, to invest in their future. But borrowing without visible progress, without accountability, without compassion for the people, it begins to feel less like strategy and more like a slow descent.
If these borrowed funds are truly building roads, schools, hospitals, and opportunities, then Nigerians deserve to see it, to feel it, to live it. But if they are funding excess, waste, or luxury, then this path is not just dangerous—it is devastating.
Nigeria’s growing loan profile is a double-edged sword. It can either accelerate development or deepen economic challenges. The key issue is not just borrowing, but what the country does with the money. Strong governance, transparency, and investment in productive sectors will determine whether these loans become a foundation for growth or a long-term liability. Because in the end, debt is not just an economic issue. It is a moral one. And if care is not taken, the price Nigeria will pay may not just be financial—it may be the future of its people.
Dukawa writes from Kano and can be reached at [email protected]
Feature/OPED
Nigeria’s Power Illusion: Why 6,000MW Is Not An Achievement
By Isah Kamisu Madachi
For decades, Nigeria has been called the Giant of Africa. The question no one in government wants to answer is why a giant cannot keep the lights on.
Nigeria sits on the largest proven oil reserves in Africa, holds the continent’s most populous nation at over 220 million people, and commands the fourth largest GDP on the continent at roughly $252 billion. It possesses vast deposits of solid minerals, a fintech ecosystem that accounts for 28% of all fintech companies on the African continent, and a diaspora that remits billions of dollars annually.
If potential were electricity, Nigeria would have been powering half the world. Instead, an immediate former minister is boasting about 6,000 megawatts.
Adebayo Adelabu resigned as Minister of Power on April 22, 2026, citing his ambition to contest the Oyo State governorship election. In his resignation letter, he listed among his achievements that peak generation had increased to over 6,000 megawatts during his tenure, supported by the integration of the Zungeru Hydropower Plant. It was presented as a great crowning legacy. The claim deserves scrutiny, and the numbers deserve context.
To begin with, the context. Ghana, Nigeria’s neighbour in West Africa, has a national electricity access rate of 85.9%, with 74% access in rural areas and 94% in urban areas. Kenya, with a 71.4% national electricity access rate, including 62.7% in rural areas, leads East Africa. Nigeria, by contrast, recorded an electricity access rate of just 61.2 per cent as of 2023, according to the World Bank. This is not a distant or poorer country outperforming Nigeria. Ghana’s GDP stands at approximately $113 billion, less than half of Nigeria’s. Kenya’s economy is around $141 billion. Ethiopia, which has invested massively in the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam and is already exporting electricity to neighbouring countries, has a GDP of roughly $126 billion. All three are doing more with far less.
Now to examine the 6,000-megawatt, Daily Trust obtained electricity generation data from the Association of Power Generation Companies and the Nigerian Electricity Regulatory Commission, covering quarterly performance from 2023 to 2025 and monthly data from January to March 2026. The data shows that in 2023, peak generation was approximately 5,000 megawatts; in 2024, it reached approximately 5,528 megawatts; in 2025, it ranged between 5,300 and 5,801 megawatts; and by March 2026, available capacity had declined to approximately 4,089 megawatts. The grid never recorded a verified peak of 6,000 megawatts or higher. Adelabu had, in fact, set the 6,000-megawatt target publicly on at least three separate occasions, missing each deadline, and later admitted the target was not achieved, attributing the failure to vandalism of key transmission infrastructure.
In February 2026, Nigeria’s national grid produced an average available capacity of 4,384 megawatts, the lowest monthly average since June 2024. For a country with over 220 million people, this means electricity supply remains far below national demand, with the grid delivering only about 32 per cent of its theoretical installed capacity of approximately 13,000 megawatts. To put that in sharper comparison: in 2018, 48 sub-Saharan African countries, home to nearly one billion people, produced about the same amount of electricity as Spain, a country of 45 million. Nigeria, the continent’s most resource-rich large economy, is a significant part of that embarrassing equation.
The tragedy here is not just technical. It is a governance failure with compounding human costs. An economy that cannot provide reliable electricity cannot competitively manufacture goods, cannot industrialise at scale, cannot attract the volume of foreign direct investment its endowments warrant, and cannot build the digital infrastructure that would allow it to lead on artificial intelligence, data governance, and the emerging critical minerals economy where Africa’s next great opportunity lies. Countries with a fraction of Nigeria’s mineral wealth and human capital are already debating those frontiers. Nigeria is still campaigning on megawatts.
What a departing minister should be able to say, given Nigeria’s endowments, is not that peak generation touched 6,000 megawatts at some unverified moment. He should be saying that Nigeria now generates reliably above 15,000 megawatts, that rural electrification has crossed 70 per cent, and that the country is on a credible trajectory toward the kind of energy sufficiency that unlocks industrial growth. That is the standard Nigeria’s size and resources demand. Anything below it is not an achievement. It is an apology dressed in a press release.
The power sector has received billions of dollars in investment across multiple administrations. The 2013 privatisation exercise, the Presidential Power Initiative, the Electricity Act of 2023, and successive reform promises have produced a sector that still, in 2026, cannot guarantee eight hours of reliable supply to the average Nigerian household. That a minister exits that ministry citing a megawatt figure that fact-checkers have shown was never actually reached, and that even if reached would be unworthy of celebration given Nigeria’s potential, captures the full depth of the problem. The ambition is too small. The accountability is too thin. And the country deserves better from those who are privileged to manage its extraordinary, squandered potential.
Isah Kamisu Madachi is a policy analyst and development practitioner. He writes via [email protected]
-
Feature/OPED6 years agoDavos was Different this year
-
Travel/Tourism10 years ago
Lagos Seals Western Lodge Hotel In Ikorodu
-
Showbiz3 years agoEstranged Lover Releases Videos of Empress Njamah Bathing
-
Banking8 years agoSort Codes of GTBank Branches in Nigeria
-
Economy3 years agoSubsidy Removal: CNG at N130 Per Litre Cheaper Than Petrol—IPMAN
-
Banking3 years agoSort Codes of UBA Branches in Nigeria
-
Banking3 years agoFirst Bank Announces Planned Downtime
-
Sports3 years agoHighest Paid Nigerian Footballer – How Much Do Nigerian Footballers Earn
