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Nigerian Opposition: What You Have to Do

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Nigerian Opposition

By Prince Charles Dickson, PhD

“And Jesus said to Judas… what you are going to do, do quickly.”

There is a hard, almost rude lesson in that line. History does not wait for the timid to finish their committee meeting. Politics, especially Nigerian politics, is not kind to hesitation dressed as strategy. It rewards those who understand timing, nerve, structure, and the brutal arithmetic of power. That is where the Nigerian opposition now stands: not at the edge of impossibility, but at the edge of urgency.

The first truth is the one opposition politicians do not enjoy hearing at rallies where microphones are loud, and introspection is scarce. They are not getting it right. The evidence is not only in Tinubu’s strength, but in their own disorder. INEC said on February 5, 2026, that there were now 21 registered political parties and warned that persistent internal leadership crises within parties pose a serious threat to democratic consolidation. Eight days later, the commission formally released the notice and timetable for the 2027 general elections. In other words, this is no longer the season of abstract grumbling. The whistle has gone. The race is live.

Yet the opposition often behaves like students who entered the examination hall with righteous anger but forgot their pens. Too much of its energy is spent on lamentation, rumours, courtroom oxygen, personality feuds, and that old Nigerian hobby of mistaking noise for architecture. You cannot defeat an incumbent machine by forming a WhatsApp coalition of wounded egos and calling it national salvation. Voters may clap for drama, but they still ask the unromantic question: who is in charge, what is the plan, and why should we trust you with the keys?

Now comes the more uncomfortable truth. The opposition is not facing an ordinary incumbent. It is facing Bola Ahmed Tinubu, a man whose political DNA was forged in opposition. He is not merely benefiting from power; he understands opposition as craft, pressure, infiltration, timing, persistence, and theatre. In his June 12, 2025, Democracy Day speech, he taunted rivals by saying it was “a pleasure to witness” their disarray, while also reminding Nigerians that he once stood almost alone against an overbearing ruling machine. This was not casual banter. It was a warning shot from a politician who knows both the grammar of resistance and the machinery of incumbency.

That is why copying Tinubu’s old template will not be enough. Yes, the coalition instinct is understandable. In July 2025, major opposition figures, including Atiku Abubakar and Peter Obi, aligned under the ADC banner, presenting themselves as a bulwark against one-party drift, with David Mark as interim chairman. But here is the problem: Tinubu’s own coalition history worked not simply because men gathered in one room and glared at the ruling party. It worked because there was a disciplined merger logic, state-level anchoring, message coordination, and a ruthless understanding of elite bargaining. What the present opposition sometimes offers instead is photocopy politics with low toner: a coalition of convenience trying to frighten a man who practically wrote the Nigerian handbook on political accommodation, defection management, and patient conquest.

This is also why the opposition’s moral complaint, though not baseless, cannot be its only language. Yes, concerns about democratic shrinkage are real. Tinubu himself publicly denied that Nigeria is moving toward a one-party state, even as defections from opposition parties to the APC intensified and his own party welcomed them. But to say “democracy is in danger” is not yet the same thing as building a democratic alternative. Nigerians do not eat constitutional anxiety for breakfast. They want a credible opposition that can protect pluralism and still explain food prices, jobs, security, power supply, transport costs, and what exactly it would do on Monday morning after taking office.

On the government’s side, the picture is mixed enough to make both triumphalism and apocalypse look unserious. Reuters reported this week that the World Bank expects Nigeria’s economy to grow by about 4.2% in 2026, with external buffers improving and the debt-to-GDP ratio falling for the first time in a decade. Inflation had eased to 15.06% in February from roughly 33% in late 2024. Those are not imaginary numbers, and any fair-minded analysis must admit that Tinubu’s reforms have altered the macroeconomic conversation. But the same report warned that the Iran war has pushed fuel prices up by more than 50%, with obvious consequences for transport, food, and household pain. Add the continuing insecurity, underscored again this week by the killing of a Nigerian army general in Borno, and the government begins to look like a man who has repaired the roof but left half the house still flooding. That is not a collapse. It is not a command either. It is a meandering reform under political stress.

So, what must the opposition do, and do quickly? First, it must stop making Tinubu the only subject of the campaign. Anti-Tinubu is not a manifesto. It is a mood. Moods trend; structures win. Second, it must settle leadership questions early and publicly, because no voter wants to hire a rescue team still fighting over the steering wheel. Third, it needs an issue coalition, not just an elite coalition. Security, inflation, youth jobs, electricity, federalism, and institutional reform must become a coherent national offer, not a buffet of press conference talking points. Fourth, it must build from the states upward. Presidential romance without subnational organisation is political karaoke: loud, emotional, and usually off-key by the second verse.

Fifth, it must look seriously at the legal terrain. The Electoral Act 2026 has made party organisation even more central. PLAC notes that the new law tightens party registration rules, removes deemed registration, expands INEC’s regulatory discretion, and preserves the fact that candidates still need political parties as the vehicle for contesting most elective offices because independent candidacy is not permitted. In plain language, parties matter even more now. A fragmented opposition is therefore not just aesthetically untidy. It is strategically suicidal.

Still, there are dangers in the opposite direction, too. A desperate anti-Tinubu mega-bloc could become a cargo truck of incompatible ambitions. If all it offers is the promise to defeat one man, it may reproduce the same habits it condemns once power arrives. Nigeria does not need a ruling party so swollen that democracy gasps for air. But it also does not need an opposition whose only ideology is turn-by-turn revenge. The health of democracy lies somewhere between monopoly and mob. It requires competition with content, not merely competition with bitterness. Tinubu himself, in that same June 12 speech, defended multiparty politics even while mocking the opposition’s disorder. That irony should not be wasted. He has thrown them both an insult and an assignment.

So, yes, the opposition is right to worry. But worry is not a strategy. Outrage is not an organisation. The coalition is not coherent. And history is not sentimental. The man they are up against is ruthless, seasoned, and intimate with the dark arts of democratic combat. He knows the game. Some of his opponents are still learning the rules from old newspaper cuttings.

Which brings us back to the scripture. What you are going to do, do quickly. Not recklessly. Not hysterically. Quickly. Settle your house. Name your purpose. Offer something fresher than recycled indignation. Build a machine that is not merely anti-Tinubu but pro-Nigeria in a way ordinary Nigerians can feel in their pockets and in their pulse. Otherwise, the opposition will keep arriving at battle dressed in borrowed armour, only to discover that the tailor works for the man they came to unseat—May Nigeria win!

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Nigeria’s Children Under Siege as Politics Trumps over Governance

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Tinubu Nigeria’s Children Under Siege

By Blaise Udunze

Chapter Two, Section 14 (b) of the 1999 Constitution of Nigeria (as amended) is explicit when it states that the security and welfare of the people shall be the primary purpose of government.  Hence, by every standard, the welfare of Nigerians should be the first priority of the government. What would be said if the same government had failed on this path? Judging by this rhetorical question and series of unfolding events, indications have shown that Nigeria is drifting into a dangerous territory where politics increasingly overshadows governance, and the amazing part of it is that insecurity, poverty and social despair continue to consume the very foundations of the state.

Surprisingly, this is eventually playing out when millions of Nigerians expect leadership, empathy and decisive action, the political class appears preoccupied with permutations for 2027, coalition-building, defections, endorsements and electoral calculations. Meanwhile, criminals are expanding their territory.

The horrendous, tragic kidnapping of pupils, teachers and school workers in Oriire Local Government Area of Oyo State has become one of the most painful symbols of Nigeria’s deepening security crisis. Shamefully, it would be recalled that recently armed terrorists invaded three schools in Ahoro-Esinle and Yawota communities. Yes, this might not be the first time of abducting school pupils, but one thing that is more troubling in this case is that dozens of schoolchildren and teachers were abducted, as this includes toddlers barely old enough to understand what was happening around them.

Intently looking at the incident, one vicious act is that among those abducted were two-year-old Christianah Akanbi and three-year-old Sikiru Salami, who are also not exempt from the daily torture.

The horror became even more devastating when a video emerged confirming the gruesome murder of Michael Oyedokun. He was a Mathematics teacher who had simply gone to work on a Friday morning to educate Nigerian children. He never returned home. The life of a teacher, a father and a mentor was cut short when beheaded in captivity by terrorists in Nigeria in May 2026.

His death is not merely a tragedy for his family. But the harrowing experience is that it is an indictment of a nation that appears increasingly unable to guarantee the safety of its citizens.

Let us consider the recent attack in Oyo State; this is not an isolated incident. It is part of a growing pattern that demonstrates the alarming deterioration of security across the country. And this is one harrowing and traumatic situation that might continue to heighten fear in the southwest: barely days after the Oyo school abductions, gunmen invaded Yashikira in Baruten Local Government Area of Kwara State, attacked the Emir’s palace, set parts of it ablaze and abducted ten residents. Also, of great concern is that just days earlier, worshippers had been killed and others abducted from a prayer ground in the same state.

Worst still, these nightmares have been the lived realities confronting Nigerians across Benue, Plateau, Katsina, Zamfara, Borno, Niger and other states. Stories of killings, kidnappings and displacement have become routine headlines.

The frightening reality is that Nigeria is gradually normalising the abnormal. Schools are becoming targets. Highways have become theatres of terror. Farms have become killing fields. Communities are becoming refugee camps. And citizens increasingly feel abandoned.

What makes the situation even more troubling is the growing perception that governance has been subordinated to politics.

This is to say that it has become glaring that while communities mourn their dead and families desperately search for abducted loved ones, the “sorry” situation is that public attention at the highest levels of government often appears focused on political calculations ahead of the 2027 elections.

This perception gained further traction following the Oyo school abductions. Nigerians watched grieving parents cry on television. Videos emerged showing abducted teachers pleading for help from captivity. This has triggered a negative notion, as many citizens felt there was insufficient urgency from the federal authorities in responding to one of the most horrifying school attacks in recent years.

Leadership is not measured only by policies and speeches. It is measured by empathy, responsiveness and the ability to assure citizens that their pain matters.

Section 14(2)(b) of Nigeria’s Constitution leaves no room for ambiguity. It states clearly that the security and welfare of the people shall be the primary purpose of government. Not politics. Not elections. Not defections. Not coalition building. Security and welfare.

Unfortunately, many Nigerians increasingly believe that the priorities of government no longer reflect this constitutional obligation. The consequences extend far beyond security. The educational sector is becoming one of the biggest casualties of the country’s security collapse.

The vicious incidents have brought the society to a standpoint whereby parents who once worried about examination results now worry whether their children will return home alive from school. Meanwhile, teachers who have continued to work tirelessly and still should be focused on learning outcomes are increasingly forced to think about survival.

One glaring adverse impact from all these abnormalities is that school enrolment in vulnerable communities is likely to decline as parents choose safety over education.

The long-term implications are frightening because the fact is that every child denied education today becomes a future economic liability. Every school abandoned due to insecurity creates another generation vulnerable to poverty, extremism and social exclusion. Every teacher lost to violence weakens Nigeria’s human capital.

Another aspect that is more of concern is that the abduction of children from schools represents more than a security challenge, but this is a thorough attack on Nigeria’s future. Perhaps the most heartbreaking and horrendous aspect of these attacks is the psychological damage inflicted on children. It must be established beforehand that when rescued, many victims may never fully recover from the trauma. This could be linked to, especially to the screams, the gunshots, the confusion, the separation from parents and the terror of captivity.

With the recent and past occurrences, without any iota of doubt, such experiences often leave invisible wounds that endure for years. Considering that the children who should be learning multiplication tables and nursery rhymes are instead learning fear.

The real question is, can a nation that cannot protect its children confidently speak about its future? Never! Emphatically, it should be understood that beyond education, insecurity is fueling a broader socio-economic epidemic.

Nigeria is already grappling with one of the worst affordability crises in its history, which also depicts the continued governance complacency. Talking of the removal of fuel subsidy and exchange rate liberalisation, inflation has eroded purchasing power, while food prices, transportation costs, rents and utility bills continue to soar, and worse off is the skyrocketing price of cooking gas.

Yet insecurity is making the crisis even worse. Farmers cannot access their farmlands. Harvests are disrupted. The country has witnessed the rural economies collapsing heavily. The resultant effect is that food production has continued to decline, and supply chains are increasingly vulnerable. The result is predictable because the simple arithmetic is that higher food prices, worsening hunger and deeper poverty.

The level of security collapse has shown that many northern farming communities, bandits now function as parallel authorities, imposing levies and determining who can farm and who cannot. This directly impacts food availability in urban centres hundreds of kilometres away.

Thus, insecurity is no longer merely a security problem; the truth is that it has become an economic problem, which is developmental, educational, and humanitarian. And ultimately, a governance problem.

The inability to effectively confront insecurity also raises difficult questions about institutional capacity.

As public affairs commentator Leonard Umunna recently observed, weak institutions produce weak outcomes. Corruption, poor accountability and ineffective governance structures have collectively undermined the state’s ability to deliver security and development.

Some of the terrifying truths Nigerians must take into cognisance are that when institutions become compromised, citizens lose confidence. Also, when accountability disappears, impunity flourishes, as the same applies when governance fails, criminality fills the vacuum. One truth that cannot be argued is that the vacuum is becoming increasingly visible across Nigeria.

The irony being experienced today in Nigeria is that while political actors are preparing intensely for 2027, the very foundations required for democratic stability are being eroded.

The terror and anxiety are definitely obvious, and the fact is that democracy cannot thrive in an environment of widespread fear.

Citizens who cannot travel safely, farm safely, worship safely or send their children to school safely are unlikely to have confidence in democratic institutions.

Perhaps, some ought to translate these messages to those at the helm of affairs in Nigeria that security is the foundation upon which every other national aspiration rests. And, without security, economic reforms become ineffective. Without security, educational investments become vulnerable. Without security, foreign investment declines. Without security, national unity weakens. Also, another underlying fact is that without security, democracy itself becomes fragile.

The well-known truth, which is quite unfortunate today, is that Nigeria’s challenges are not insurmountable because the country possesses the manpower, resources and institutional structures necessary to reverse the tide.

What appears lacking is the political will, urgency and strategic focus required to confront the crisis comprehensively.

This moment demands more than condolences after attacks. It demands intelligence-driven operations. It demands stronger coordination among security agencies. It demands improved local intelligence networks. It demands accountability. It demands institutional reforms. Most importantly, it demands leadership that places governance above politics.

As Nigeria inches toward another election cycle, political leaders must recognise a simple truth, and that truth is that there may be little value in winning elections in a nation increasingly overwhelmed by insecurity, poverty and social fragmentation.

The pursuit of political power cannot become more important than the survival of the republic itself. The death of Michael Oyedokun should haunt the conscience of the nation. So should the tears of Christianah Akanbi. So, should every parent be afraid to send a child to school? So should the pain of every community living under the shadow of terror. Nigeria is at an intersection; it has reached a tough moment where important and critical decisions must be made.

One path leads to deeper insecurity, educational decline, economic hardship and national instability. The other requires courage, responsibility and a renewed commitment to governance. The choice should not be difficult.

For if politics continues to take precedence over governance, the greatest casualty may not be any political party or administration. It may be Nigeria itself. The country is redeemable, and there is still hope for a better Nigeria.

Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos and can be reached via: bl***********@***il.com

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Facing the Reality of Inflation in Everyday Life

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Timi Olubiyi Reality of Inflation

By Timi Olubiyi, PhD

Currently, many are passing through one of the most difficult times due to inflationary pressures. From transportation to food, electricity, healthcare, school fees, rent, and communication, the rising cost of living has altered the daily experience of millions of households. What used to be considered necessities have now become luxuries for many families. Across the country, the average citizen is under enormous pressure to survive amid worsening inflation, shrinking purchasing power, and economic uncertainty.

While inflation is a global phenomenon, the Nigerian experience has become particularly severe because of the combined effects of fuel subsidy removal, exchange rate volatility, high transportation costs, insecurity in food-producing regions, and weak wage growth. The reality of petrol selling at nearly N1,400 per litre in some parts of the country has significantly changed household economics and business sustainability. The consequences are visible everywhere in markets, offices, homes, schools, hospitals, and on the streets.

In practical terms, transportation fares have more than tripled in many cities within a short period. Food inflation has equally become alarming. Bread, eggs, cooking gas, yams, tomatoes, beans, and other staple foods continue to rise beyond the reach of average Nigerians. Electricity tariffs and telecommunications costs have also increased, while rent in urban centres keeps climbing. Unfortunately, salaries and wages have not kept pace with these realities. This is perhaps the greatest crisis confronting workers and small business owners today. Many employees still earn wages negotiated several years ago under entirely different economic conditions. Yet the value of those salaries has been severely eroded by inflation. In real terms, many workers are poorer today despite remaining employed.

The truth is that the salary structure available now can no longer effectively support decent living standards for many households. Even professionals with stable employment now struggle to meet basic obligations. Civil servants, teachers, artisans, small traders, entrepreneurs, and even middle-income earners are feeling the weight of the economic squeeze.

For many families, survival now depends on borrowing, reducing consumption, postponing healthcare, or sacrificing savings and investments. More troubling is the psychological effect of this prolonged hardship. Economic pressure is increasingly and significantly affecting mental health, marriages, productivity, and social stability.

Anxiety, frustration, depression, anger, and emotional exhaustion are becoming common experiences among citizens trying to survive difficult conditions. Difficult times and hardship often fuel marital conflicts, domestic tension, and reduced emotional well-being. In workplaces, economic uncertainty lowers morale, concentration, and productivity as employees struggle to cope with transportation costs, food, and other basic needs.

In fact, many people now live permanently in survival mode, uncertain about what tomorrow may bring. Businesses are equally under pressure. Rising operational costs continue to threaten sustainability, especially for small and medium-scale enterprises. Diesel prices, transportation costs, imported raw materials, electricity bills, taxation, and weak consumer spending have reduced profitability across many sectors. Several businesses have downsized operations, reduced staff strength, or shut down completely. Others remain in operation but merely struggle to survive.

Consequently, the era when a single salary could comfortably sustain a family is gradually disappearing in Nigeria. One of the clearest lessons from the current economic climate is that relying solely on one source of income has become increasingly risky. Economic realities now require individuals and households to think beyond traditional salary structures and embrace income diversification. In fact, multiple streams of income are no longer optional; they are becoming a necessity for financial survival and resilience. Families that depend entirely on one monthly salary are highly exposed to economic shocks, inflation, job loss, or business disruptions. The harsh reality is that even regular employment no longer guarantees financial security.

Therefore, Nigerians must begin to intentionally explore additional income opportunities that can complement existing earnings. This does not necessarily mean abandoning primary jobs or businesses, but rather creating alternative sources of income that can provide support during difficult times. Technology and digital platforms have made this more possible than ever before. Social media, e-commerce, freelancing, online consulting, digital content creation, virtual training, and remote services now offer opportunities for additional income generation.

Many professionals can monetise their knowledge, experience, or talents through side engagements without compromising their primary employment. In a way, passive income opportunities such as agriculture, cooperative investments, real estate, dividend-paying stocks, mutual funds, and small-scale trading can help cushion economic shocks over time. Land acquisition, for instance, remains one of the most reliable long-term stores of value in Nigeria despite current economic challenges. Assets that appreciate over time can provide financial protection against inflation. More so, living below one’s means may no longer be a matter of choice but a practical necessity under present realities. The culture of excessive social competition and pressure to maintain appearances despite declining income can worsen financial stress. Economic survival today requires financial honesty, discipline, and strategic planning.

In conclusion, the current economic realities in Nigeria demand a shift in mindset, financial behaviour, and survival strategies. Fuel at N1,400 per litre is not merely an energy issue; it affects transportation, food prices, school fees, healthcare costs, business operations, and overall quality of life.

Inflation has redefined daily living for millions of Nigerians. Therefore, building multiple streams of income, improving financial literacy, embracing prudent spending, and investing for the future are no longer luxury ideas but necessary responses to economic realities.

The truth is simple: depending solely on salary income in today’s Nigeria may no longer be sufficient for financial stability. The earlier households adapt to this reality, the better positioned they may be to survive and thrive despite the challenges ahead. Good luck!

How may you obtain advice or further information on the article? 

Dr Timi Olubiyi is an expert in Entrepreneurship and Business Management, holding a PhD in Business Administration from Babcock University in Nigeria. He is a prolific investment coach, author, columnist, and seasoned scholar. Additionally, he is a Chartered Member of the Chartered Institute for Securities and Investment (CISI) and a registered capital market operator with the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC). He can be reached through his Twitter handle @drtimiolubiyi and via email at dr***********@***il.com for any questions, feedback, or comments. The opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author, Dr Timi Olubiyi, and do not necessarily reflect the views of others.

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Nigeria’s Booming Banks And A Collapsing Economy

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CBN Gov & new Bank logo(1)

By Blaise Udunze

Nigeria’s banking industry appears to be booming, largely driven by the policies of the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN), under Governor Olayemi Cardoso, while the real economy continues to suffocate.

At a time when millions of Nigerians are sinking deeper into poverty, when inflation continues to erode household incomes, when businesses are collapsing under unbearable operating costs, and when migration has become a survival strategy for many young professionals, Nigerian banks are announcing staggering profits, stronger capital positions and unprecedented liquidity growth.

According to the bank’s financial statements, the financial system appears healthy. In reality, the economy where citizens work, trade and survive is gasping for breath.

This growing disconnect between financial sector prosperity and economic suffering now represents one of the gravest threats to Nigeria’s long-term economic stability and its ambition of building a $1 trillion economy.

The numbers are indeed impressive. Nigerian banks’ shareholders’ funds reportedly surged to about N27 trillion following the recapitalisation exercise. The top five banks now command balance sheets estimated at over N164 trillion. Tier-1 banks collectively generated trillions in profits within the first quarter of 2026 alone, while the sector-wide recapitalisation exercise raised over N4.56 trillion.

Ordinarily, such figures should inspire confidence about the future of the economy. Stronger banks are expected to translate into stronger businesses, more jobs, industrial expansion and wider economic opportunities. But Nigeria’s experience is proving otherwise.

Instead of serving as engines of productive growth, banks are increasingly becoming custodians of liquidity trapped within the financial system itself. That is the real danger.

Even as banking liquidity expands sharply, lending to the productive economy remains weak and constrained. Reports indicate that banks parked a record N24.13 trillion with the CBN, while simultaneously increasing investments in government securities and treasury bills because these avenues are safer, more profitable and less risky than lending to businesses operating within Nigeria’s harsh economic climate. This reality exposes a dangerous contradiction.

A developing economy desperately in need of industrialisation, manufacturing growth, infrastructure expansion and job creation cannot afford a banking system that prefers financial safety over productive economic risk.

A sustainable economy cannot thrive where the real sector is starved of funds. Yet this is exactly where Nigeria now stands.

Despite the massive liquidity in the banking system, growth in lending to the private sector continues to lag behind the pace of liquidity expansion. The implication is clear. Financial sector strength is no longer translating into real economic development. This is not how healthy economies function.

Ordinarily, banks in developing economies are expected to operate as catalysts for economic transformation. Across successful economies, commercial banks finance manufacturing, agriculture, innovation, infrastructure and entrepreneurship because those sectors generate jobs, productivity and national wealth.

Small and Medium Enterprises (SMEs), especially, are globally recognised as the backbone of grassroots economic development. Nigeria is no exception.

SMEs account for over 70 per cent of registered businesses, contribute nearly half of Nigeria’s GDP and generate between 84 and 90 per cent of employment opportunities. Yet despite their overwhelming importance, SMEs reportedly receive barely between 0.5 per cent and one per cent of total commercial bank lending. That is not merely a policy failure. It is an economic tragedy.

Every denied SME loan is a denied employment opportunity. Every failed business represents another frustrated entrepreneur. Every frustrated entrepreneur becomes another Nigerian contemplating migration.

This is how economic dysfunction transforms into human displacement. The so-called “Japa” phenomenon did not emerge in isolation. It is deeply connected to economic hopelessness. When productive citizens lose faith in their country’s economic future, migration stops being a lifestyle choice and becomes a survival mechanism.

Unbeknownst to the policymakers is that Nigeria cannot realistically build a $1 trillion economy while productive sectors remain financially suffocated.

A closer glance at the trend of events helps to reveal that the danger becomes even more severe when viewed against the backdrop of the recent outcome of the 305th Monetary Policy Committee (MPC) meeting, where the CBN retained the Monetary Policy Rate (MPR) at 26.5 per cent in its bid to sustain disinflation and macroeconomic stability.

It is understandable and certain that inflation control is important, but the fact is that at 15.69 per cent, inflation remains painfully high and continues to weaken purchasing power. Food prices remain elevated. Transportation costs remain unbearable. Consumer demand is weakening. The middle class is shrinking rapidly.

But maintaining elevated interest rates also comes with painful consequences. Simple arithmetic tells us that higher interest rates mean higher lending costs. Higher lending costs mean higher production costs. Higher production costs worsen inflationary pressures and weaken business survival rates.

Invariably, this also tells us that for Nigerian manufacturers and corporates already battling a weak naira, volatile exchange rates, expensive diesel, energy insecurity and declining consumer demand, access to affordable credit is becoming almost impossible.

Many businesses are no longer borrowing to expand production or employ workers. They are borrowing merely to survive. This is economic suffocation.

Meanwhile, banks continue to profit massively from high-yield government securities and treasury investments. Reports indicate that major Nigerian banks generated over N6.68 trillion from investment securities and treasury bills instead of financing productive enterprises capable of stimulating growth and employment.

The government’s appetite for borrowing itself shows no sign of slowing down. Public borrowing reportedly climbed above N39 trillion. Historically, excessive government borrowing crowds out private sector investment because banks naturally prefer lending to the government rather than exposing themselves to risks associated with businesses operating in unstable economic conditions.

The result is predictable. The real sector weakens while speculative and non-productive financial activities flourish. This explains why Nigeria increasingly resembles a financial system disconnected from the realities of ordinary citizens.

While banks celebrate rising profits, poverty and hunger worsen visibly across the country. Unemployment continues to rise. Small businesses are dying quietly. Household purchasing power is collapsing under inflationary pressure.

Yet the financial system appears more liquid than ever. That contradiction should alarm policymakers. The recapitalisation exercise itself now raises difficult questions.

What exactly is the purpose of stronger banks if stronger banks do not strengthen national productivity?

If recapitalisation merely empowers banks to deepen investments in government debt instruments while manufacturers, farmers, exporters and SMEs remain starved of affordable credit, then the exercise risks becoming financially impressive but economically hollow.

Indeed, the current monetary environment appears to reward financial conservatism over productive risk-taking.

The stringent Cash Reserve Requirement (CRR), elevated interest rates and broader macroeconomic uncertainty continue to discourage aggressive lending to the private sector. Banks understandably seek safety. But nations do not industrialise through excessive financial caution.

No economy develops when capital circulates primarily within treasury bills and government securities instead of flowing into factories, farms, logistics, housing, innovation and production.

This is the larger danger confronting Nigeria today. Economic crises rarely begin with recession statistics alone. Sometimes, they begin when financial institutions become detached from the suffering realities of the wider economy. They begin when growth exists only within banking balance sheets but disappears from households, factories and streets.

Without productive credit expansion, economic growth becomes artificial and exclusionary. Without affordable financing, businesses cannot scale. Without business expansion, jobs cannot emerge. Also, it must be noted that without jobs, insecurity, poverty and migration inevitably worsen. The implications for social stability are enormous.

One painful fact is that citizens already burdened by inflation, debt pressures and widespread distrust now face a system where economic opportunities continue shrinking despite apparent financial sector prosperity. One of the lurking dangers is that this deepens resentment, weakens confidence in institutions and threatens long-term economic cohesion.

The CBN’s inflation fight may be necessary, but monetary stability alone cannot substitute for productive economic expansion. Financial stability without inclusive growth eventually becomes unsustainable.

The real economy matters more than banking optics. Nigeria urgently needs policies that incentivise real sector lending, reduce structural risks facing manufacturers and SMEs, strengthen credit infrastructure, lower production bottlenecks and redirect liquidity toward productive economic activity.

As a matter of fact, it is high time for Nigeria to start rethinking the growing dependence on debt-driven fiscal management that continues to crowd out private investment. Development cannot occur when government borrowing consumes the financial oxygen needed by businesses.

Ultimately, banking profitability should not become an isolated island of prosperity surrounded by a collapsing productive economy.

A nation cannot celebrate trillion-naira banking profits while millions of citizens sink deeper into economic despair. No society sustains such a contradiction indefinitely.

If Nigeria truly hopes to build a resilient and inclusive economy, then the banking sector must once again become a vehicle for national development rather than merely a beneficiary of government debt and monetary tightening.

Otherwise, the country risks creating a contradictory economy where banks grow richer while citizens grow poorer and where financial prosperity exists only on paper while economic hardship defines everyday life.

Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos and can be reached via: bl***********@***il.com

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