Feature/OPED
Nigeria’s Booming Growth Leaves Citizens Trapped in Deeper Poverty
By Blaise Udunze
With the chanting of the ‘Renewed Hope’, it appears to be Uhuru in Nigeria, following the recent World Economic Outlook presented by the International Monetary Fund, which projected that Nigeria’s economy would expand by 4.1 per cent in 2026. Though this specifically shows an economy faster than economies like the United States and the United Kingdom, as it handed the administration of President Bola Tinubu a powerful narrative. No doubt, the projection happens to be a narrative of progress, of reform, of a nation supposedly turning the corner after years of instability and setting the kind of moment that reassures investors, quiets critics and signals competence.
But once its statistical sheen is put aside, the weight of reality takes centre stage. The truth is, while Nigeria may be growing on paper, it is simultaneously shrinking and does not in any way reflect the lived experience of its citizens, as the populace can attest to. With the current lived experience, nowhere is this contradiction more glaring than in the widening gulf between macroeconomic projections and the daily economic suffering of over 200 million people.
The truth is uncomfortable, but it must be said plainly that a country where poverty is deepening, inflation is persistent, debt is rising, and basic survival is becoming more difficult cannot meaningfully claim economic success, no matter what the growth figures suggest.
The most damning evidence against the “fastest-growing economy” narrative, as enumerated by the Special Adviser to President Tinubu on Policy Communication, Daniel Bwala, comes not from opposition voices or political critics, but this time it is coming from the World Bank itself. Alarming to this is that according to its latest Nigeria Development Update, poverty in the country rose to 63 per cent barely months back, translating to roughly 140 million Nigerians living below the poverty line. This is not just a statistic; it is a humanitarian crisis unfolding in real time, which in a real sense calls for quick interventions.
Even more troubling is the trend. Poverty has not plateaued; it is accelerating, worsening and not stabilising at all. From 56 per cent in 2023 to 61 per cent in 2024, and now 63 per cent in 2025, the trajectory is unmistakable, as can be seen the data shows a clear upward trend over time that calls for concern. And projections from PwC suggest that the numbers will climb even higher, with an estimated 141 million Nigerians expected to be poor in 2026.
It would surprise many that these figures expose a fundamental contradiction; it is a total irony that an economy is growing while its people are becoming poorer, hence, while no one would hesitate to say that the type of growth taking place is flawed. Well, without jumping to a hasty conclusion, the answer lies in that growth. To say that the economic growth taking place is imbalanced, it is uneven, exclusionary, and not absolutely linked or largely disconnected from the sectors that sustain the majority of Nigerians. Growth driven by services and capital-intensive industries does little for a population whose livelihoods depend heavily on agriculture and informal enterprise. When growth bypasses the poor, it ceases to be development and becomes mere arithmetic.
The government’s defence often leans on the argument that inflation is easing and that reforms are beginning to stabilise the economy. But even this claim is increasingly fragile, as reported that the recent data from the National Bureau of Statistics shows that inflation has begun to rise again. This now shows that the headline inflation is ticking up to 15.38 per cent in March 2026, alongside a sharp month-on-month increase of 4.18 per cent. The pain Consumer Price Index climbed to 135.4, underscoring sustained pressure on household spending.
Another aspect that raises further questions is that the most critical component for ordinary Nigerians, which is the food inflation, skyrocketed to 14.31 per cent, with a similar month-on-month surge. It must be made known that these are not just numbers on a chart; they represent the escalating cost of survival, mostly for the common man. The ripple effect of this, which is yet to change, is that families are compelled to pay more for basic meals, more for transportation, and more for the essentials of daily life.
Noteworthy is that even when inflation showed signs of moderation in previous months, the fact is that it did little to reverse the damage already inflicted. The World Bank has been clear on this point when it said that household incomes have not kept pace with price increases. The underlying point is that the earlier spikes in inflation eroded purchasing power to such an extent that any subsequent easing has been insufficient to restore real income levels, and this is where the figures churned out were misleading.
This explains the inconsistency at the heart of Nigeria’s economy, where nominal indicators are improving, but real conditions are deteriorating. Nigerians are earning more in absolute terms but are able to afford less. This is further confirmed by data showing that while nominal household spending increased significantly, real consumption declined, while it would be said that people are spending more money, but they are consuming less. That is not growth; but the right word for it is economic suffocation.
The structural consequences of ongoing reforms compound the situation. The removal of fuel subsidies, which was the gift to Nigerians for electing President Tinubu and the liberalisation of the foreign exchange market were framed as necessary steps toward long-term stability. And in theory, they are defensible policies. But in practice, the result has been an extraordinary cost-of-living crisis, especially for the larger section of struggling Nigerians.
Speaking of the fuel subsidy removal, which has driven up transportation costs across the country, affecting both urban commuters and rural farmers, the pain has been further intensified by the geopolitical conflict in the Middle East. The second policy shift, which was the exchange rate liberalisation, has led to currency depreciation, with the experiences biting hard across the board, making imported goods more expensive and fueling inflationary pressures. These policy choices, which were perhaps deemed necessary, and without further ado have imposed immediate and severe burdens on households that were already vulnerable.
The International Monetary Fund has warned that these pressures are far from over. Rising global tensions, particularly in the Middle East, are pushing up the cost of energy, food, and transportation. For Nigerians, especially those at the lower rung in society, this translates into even higher living costs and deeper economic strain to contend with.
In this context, the government’s insistence on celebrating growth projections begins to appear not just disconnected, but insensitive. For millions of Nigerians, the economy is not an abstract concept measured in percentages. It is a daily struggle defined by whether they can afford food, transport, and shelter.
Compounding these challenges is Nigeria’s growing debt burden. Unexpectedly, public debt has climbed to over N159 trillion, with projections indicating a continued rise in the coming years because of the government’s appetite for borrowing. While the debt-to-GDP ratio may appear moderate compared to global averages, this comparison is totally misleading. The question is why the debt is ballooning when Nigeria’s revenue base is narrow, heavily reliant on oil, and constrained by a large informal sector that contributes little to tax income.
The current position of things is that debt servicing consumes a disproportionate share of government revenue, leaving limited fiscal space for investment in infrastructure, healthcare, education, and social protection, which has continued to expose the majority of Nigerians to untold hardship. It is a precarious position, one where the government is borrowing more while having less capacity to translate that borrowing into meaningful development outcomes, and the part that is also critical is that Nigeria’s rising debt profile is entering discomforting quarters, as concerns shift from the sheer size of borrowings to the growing risks associated with refinancing existing obligations.
Even more troubling are the emerging questions around fiscal transparency and governance. Only recently, there were allegations by Peter Obi on the missing N34 trillion in federation revenue that remains unaccounted. This, according to him, has intensified concerns about systemic leakages and institutional corruption. The fact is, even though these claims remain contested, they resonate deeply in a country where public trust in government financial management is already fragile and has remained a subject of discussion for many Nigerians.
The truth is that if even a fraction of such resources were effectively managed and invested, the impact on infrastructure, social services, and poverty reduction could be transformative, but this has yet to be embarked upon. Instead, the persistence of such allegations reinforces the perception of an economy where wealth exists but is inaccessible to the majority, which brings to bare if there will ever be a respite in a situation like this.
Adding another layer to this complexity is the excessive contradiction of oil revenue. With global crude prices that were once sold above $113 per barrel and currently hovering around $85-$90, which is still far exceeding Nigeria’s budget benchmark, the country stands to hugely benefit from a significant windfall, as was the case in the past. You know that history is more revealing than ever; it suggests that such opportunities are often squandered.
Analysts repeatedly have continued to warn that without disciplined fiscal management, these revenues may be absorbed by debt servicing or recurrent expenditure rather than being invested in productive sectors. The risk is that Nigeria once again experiences a boom without transformation, a cycle that has defined its economic history for decades.
Meanwhile, the irony in all of this is that, despite having plenty, every day Nigerian continues to bear the brunt of systemic inefficiencies. As the people bear the brunt, the country’s transportation costs are rising, food prices remain volatile, and access to basic services is increasingly strained, while the rural areas are not left out of the equation, as insecurity continues to disrupt agricultural production. This has further constrained food supply and driven up prices. In urban centres, the cost of living is pushing more households into financial distress.
The cumulative, as well as the ripple effects of these pressures, are a society under strain. Lest we mistake this, economic hardship is not just a financial issue; it has social and psychological consequences, while unbeknownst to many, its resultant effect fuels frustration, erodes trust in institutions, which also leads to fertile ground for instability.
What makes the current situation particularly troubling is the widening disconnect between official narratives and lived reality. There are two instances in which it was noted that, on the one hand, the government points to IMF projections and macroeconomic indicators as evidence of progress. On the other hand, citizens experience rising poverty, declining purchasing power, and limited opportunities. Another good example stems from when President Tinubu declared in September of last year that the federal government had met its 2025 non-oil income goal by August.
However, the former Minister of Finance, Wale Edun, stated that the Federal Government lacked sufficient funds to appropriately fund its capital budget during a public hearing at the National Assembly late last year. The minister stated that in order to pay the N54.9 trillion “budget of restoration,” which was intended to stabilise the economy, ensure peace, and create prosperity, the federal government had estimated N40.8 trillion in income for 2025.
These two reports sounded and appeared contradictory, and it was probably one of many factors responsible for the fallout.
This disconnect is more than a communication gap; it is a credibility crisis. When people’s lived experiences contradict official claims, trust erodes. And without trust, even well-intentioned policies struggle to gain acceptance.
The claim that Nigeria is growing faster than advanced economies may be technically accurate, and perhaps it must be seen as an absolute insult to Nigerians and it must be noted that it is fundamentally irrelevant to the country’s core challenges. This key fact must be taken into cognisance that growth rates, in isolation, do not capture the quality, inclusiveness, or sustainability of economic progress, and this is because they do not reflect whether growth is creating jobs, reducing poverty, or improving living standards. Note that in Nigeria’s case, the evidence suggests otherwise, in which the reality continues to dominate outcomes, and this is not the case.
For growth to be meaningful, it must translate into tangible improvements in people’s lives. At this point, it is necessary to understand that it must create jobs, raise incomes, and expand opportunities. Another important factor that must not be left out is that it must be inclusive, reaching not just the top tiers of society but the millions at the base of the economic pyramid. At present, Nigeria falls short on all these counts.
The path forward requires more than optimistic projections and reform rhetoric. It demands a fundamental rethinking of economic priorities. Policies must be designed not just for macroeconomic stability but for human welfare, and while investment must be directed toward sectors that generate employment and improve productivity, particularly agriculture and manufacturing. Social safety nets must be strengthened to protect the most vulnerable from economic shocks, which has yet to be considered by the government of the day.
Equally important is the need for transparency and accountability in public finance. Without trust in how resources are managed, even the most ambitious economic plans will struggle to gain legitimacy.
Nigeria is not lacking in potential, and this is one of the ironies of it all since it has a young population, abundant natural resources, and a dynamic entrepreneurial spirit. But potential, without effective governance and inclusive policies, remains unrealised.
The uncomfortable reality is that Nigeria is at risk of normalising a dangerous illusion, which connotes that growth on paper is equivalent to progress in practice. The truth is that it is not and cannot be contested. And until this illusion and deception are confronted, the gap between economic narratives and human realities will continue to widen.
In the end, the true measure of an economy is not how fast it grows, but how well it serves its people. By that standard, Nigeria’s current trajectory raises serious questions, take it or leave it. Because in a nation where over 140 million people live in poverty, where inflation continues to erode incomes, where debt is rising and where basic survival is becoming more difficult, the claim of being a “fast-growing economy” is not just misleading. Yes, it is a mirage!
And for millions of Nigerians struggling to get by each day, it is a mirage that offers no relief, no hope, and no future.
Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos and can be reached via: bl***********@***il.com
By Blaise Udunze
Do you know that history rarely produces leaders whose names become synonymous with development? In Nigeria’s post-independence political history, only a few governors have achieved that distinction. And, among them stands Dee Sam Mbakwe, whose tenure as Governor of the old Imo State between 1979 and 1983 permanently and to date altered public expectations of what purposeful leadership could accomplish.
One outstanding fact that can’t be erased is that even more than four decades after leaving office, Mbakwe’s name remains shorthand for visionary governance. It has been on record that across today’s Imo, Abia, Ebonyi and parts of Rivers State, the territories carved out of the old Imo State, roads, educational institutions, hospitals and industrial estates associated with his administration still shape public memory to date. His lasting and enduring legacy demonstrates an important principle that visibly shows that governments are remembered less for political speeches or white elephant projects in print than for institutions and infrastructure that survive them.
Today, a similar conversation is unfolding in Abia State. Governor Alex Otti, now in the middle of his first term, is increasingly being compared with the legendary Mbakwe. While noting that it is not a risk, such comparisons should neither be dismissed as political enthusiasm nor accepted as settled history. They deserve careful examination through the lens of governance, economics and institutional transformation. History ultimately rewards evidence, not sentiment.
The more important and inevitable question, therefore, is whether Abia is merely experiencing another burst of public infrastructure or whether it is witnessing the emergence of a developmental state that is strongly built and anchored on long-term economic transformation because the distinction truly matters.
Apt attention is drawn to the view that development economists have long argued that sustained economic growth depends not on isolated projects but on complementary investments in infrastructure, energy, institutions, human capital and productive enterprise. Roads without electricity rarely attract industries. Schools without jobs encourage migration. Fiscal discipline without investment suppresses growth. Successful governments integrate these sectors into a coherent development strategy.
Measured against this framework, Otti’s administration appears to be pursuing something more ambitious than conventional public works.
For decades, the majority of those in the know and who have visited could attest that Abia’s deteriorating road network represented the visible face of state failure. Aba, once known as the commercial heartbeat of the South-East and also one of Africa’s largest clusters of small and medium-scale manufacturers, gradually lost competitiveness as logistics costs rose and businesses struggled with decaying infrastructure.
Economic theory is unequivocal in that infrastructure reduces transaction costs, improves productivity and attracts private investment.
Recognising this reality, the Otti administration has made infrastructure renewal its most visible priority. By its third anniversary, the government reported completing more than 414 road projects covering over 860 kilometres, including strategic economic corridors such as Port Harcourt Road, Ohanku Road, Aguiyi Ironsi Boulevard, Omenuko Bridge and numerous urban and rural link roads.
The significance extends beyond asphalt. This is to say that every rehabilitated road lowers transport costs, improves market access, reduces vehicle operating expenses and enhances the competitiveness of manufacturers, traders and farmers. There must be an understanding that infrastructure, in this context, becomes an economic policy rather than merely a construction programme.
The symbolism of these projects recalls Sam Mbakwe’s philosophy that public works should stimulate production rather than merely create political visibility. Like Mbakwe, Otti appears to recognise that infrastructure is not an end in itself but the foundation upon which economic prosperity is built.
If roads defined Mbakwe’s administration, reliable electricity may ultimately define Otti’s.
Few constraints have damaged Nigeria’s industrial competitiveness more than unreliable power supply. Recognising this, the administration has leveraged the Aba Integrated Power Project developed by Professor Barth Nnaji’s Geometric Power as a catalyst for wider economic transformation.
It is worth noting that Governor Otti has openly acknowledged that more reliable electricity provided the confidence to introduce electric buses into Abia’s transportation system, describing Geometric Power as “a landmark investment” that lays the foundation for industrial growth, energy security, and cleaner transportation. Hence, it has become the goose that lays the golden eggs, as his admission is significant because it demonstrates an understanding that electricity is not merely a utility but an engine of economic growth.
Development is rarely driven by isolated projects. It occurs when infrastructure complements infrastructure. Electricity powers factories. Roads move goods. Efficient transportation expands labour mobility. Water improves public health. Digital infrastructure attracts investment. Together, they create an ecosystem capable of sustaining economic growth.
Professor Barth Nnaji’s disclosure adds another historical dimension to this story. Long before entering politics, Alex Otti played a critical role in securing financing for the Geometric Power Project during his banking career at First Bank and later Diamond Bank. He also helped facilitate the restructuring of the project’s foreign currency obligations from dollars to naira. This continuity suggests that Otti’s commitment to industrial infrastructure predates his governorship. Unlike politicians who discover development after assuming office, his engagement with productive investments appears rooted in decades of experience within Nigeria’s financial system.
One of the enduring criticisms of many Nigerian states is their dependence on monthly allocations from the Federation Account Allocation Committee (FAAC), with limited attention paid to expanding internally generated economic activity. Sam Mbakwe challenged that model through industrial estates and productive public investments.
Otti appears to be pursuing a twenty-first-century version of the same philosophy.
The proposed $145 million solar manufacturing plant in Isiala Ngwa South, government support for Ultimum Limited’s multimillion-dollar beverage manufacturing facility, efforts to operationalise the long-delayed Isiala Ngwa Inland Dry Port and continued urban renewal in Aba all point towards an economy increasingly oriented towards production rather than consumption.
These initiatives matter because investment decisions respond to confidence. Capital flows where infrastructure is reliable, institutions are predictable, and governments demonstrate policy consistency. Every new factory expands employment. Every logistics hub reduces business costs. Every industrial investment broadens the state’s future tax base. This is how economies become less dependent on federal allocations and more reliant on productive enterprise.
Modern development extends beyond physical infrastructure. Recognising this reality, the administration has invested in healthcare, expanded educational reforms, upgraded public hospitals, recruited teachers and healthcare personnel and partnered with the Federal Government, the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) and TETFund to establish Nigeria’s first Manufacturing Technology University Innovation Pod at Michael Okpara University of Agriculture, Umudike.
The symbolism is significant. While Mbakwe built institutions for an industrial economy, Otti appears to be preparing Abia for an innovation-driven economy where manufacturing increasingly depends on technology, research and advanced skills. Development today requires not only roads and bridges but also intellectual infrastructure.
Beyond healthcare and education, the rehabilitation of the Ubakala and Ariaria Water Schemes underscores the administration’s recognition that access to potable water remains a critical driver of public health and productivity. Likewise, it would be said that the rollout of electric buses, commissioned by the Director-General of the World Trade Organisation, Dr Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, represents an early attempt to align Abia’s transportation system with global trends in sustainable urban mobility. The basic fact is that these initiatives reinforce the idea that development is most effective when sectors are integrated rather than treated as isolated government programmes, which has been a norm with many states.
Perhaps the least visible but most consequential reform lies in governance itself.
Markets respond not merely to infrastructure but to credibility. Businesses invest where contracts are respected. Banks lend where institutions function. Citizens willingly pay taxes where governments deliver services.
Against this backdrop, efforts to improve fiscal discipline, reduce inherited liabilities, clear more than N40 billion in salary and pension arrears, strengthen transparency and restore confidence in public administration become economic reforms in their own right.
Governance is itself infrastructure. It lowers uncertainty, attracts investment, encourages entrepreneurship and expands opportunity.
One cannot overlook the growing external validation of Abia’s transformation. Members of the Presidency’s Renewed Hope Media Team, after touring projects across the state, publicly acknowledged the scale of infrastructural renewal taking place. The willingness of investors to commit $145 million to a solar manufacturing facility, the collaboration between the Abia State Government, the Federal Government, UNDP and TETFund on innovation projects, and ongoing discussions around the Abia International Airport all point to increasing confidence in the state’s development trajectory.
This matters because no state government possesses sufficient resources to finance development alone; as such, partnerships also come to the rescue. Sustainable economic transformation depends on attracting private investment, fostering productive partnerships and creating an enabling environment where businesses can flourish and remain sustainable.
Notwithstanding, understand that comparisons with Sam Mbakwe should be aptly approached with caution. History has already delivered its verdict on Mbakwe, and there must be this understanding that his reputation has endured because successive generations continued to experience the value of the infrastructure and institutions he built.
Alex Otti’s story is still being written. Many flagship projects remain under construction. The proposed Abia International Airport, the planned FIFA-standard stadium in Aba, the expansion of industrial clusters, the operationalisation of the Isiala Ngwa Inland Dry Port and other strategic initiatives must ultimately translate into measurable improvements in economic performance.
The true indicators of success will not simply be kilometres of roads completed or projects commissioned. They will include higher internally generated revenue, increased private investment, expanded manufacturing output, lower unemployment, stronger small and medium-sized enterprises, improved educational outcomes, wider healthcare access, increased exports and rising household incomes.
These are the metrics that distinguish transformational governance from routine administration.
Nigeria has never lacked development plans. What it has often lacked is disciplined execution.
Sam Mbakwe demonstrated that purposeful leadership could transform public expectations even within a single tenure. Alex Otti appears to be pursuing a similar path under far more difficult macroeconomic conditions characterised by high inflation, fiscal constraints, exchange-rate volatility, elevated public debt and heightened public scrutiny.
Whether he ultimately joins the ranks of Nigeria’s truly transformational governors will depend less on today’s commendations than on tomorrow’s outcomes.
If the institutions being built endure, if industries expand, if investors continue to choose Abia, if innovation flourishes and if ordinary citizens experience sustained improvements in their quality of life, history may indeed place Alex Otti alongside Sam Mbakwe.
For history has always reserved its highest honours not for politicians who merely won elections, but for leaders who fundamentally changed the economic destiny of their people.
Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos and can be reached via: bl***********@***il.com
By Sani Abdulrazak, PhD
The fundamentality of securing our lives and property, especially in Northern Nigeria, cannot be overemphasised. Any other responsibility comes after this for a responsible government. Sadly, for close to two decades, Northern Nigeria has been a gallows of despair, rape, and death. From banditry and freelance killings that scratch, pierce, and are ruining the North West, to the bloody insurgency that barks and bites in the North East, to farmers-herder conflicts in the North Central, leaving behind a scorching trail of rancour and sorrow of unimaginable proportion for millions, Kaduna State was one of the worst-hit states in terms of banditry and kidnappings, ethno-religious conflicts, and freelance killings.
But in the last three years, the state has metamorphosed into one of the most peaceful in the region via the Kaduna Peace Model. More so, the recent endorsement of the Kaduna Peace Model by the Human Rights Writers Association of Nigeria (HURIWA) deserves thoughtful examination rather than unquestioning acceptance. HURIWA’s position has brought renewed attention to Kaduna State’s approach to conflict management and peacebuilding. The endorsement raises an important policy question: Has Kaduna developed a governance model capable of reducing conflict in a sustainable manner, and if so, why have other northern states not moved to adapt it? These questions deserve answers rooted in facts rather than political loyalties.
The phrase “Kaduna Peace Model” does not point to or refer to a single law, policy document, or institutional framework. Rather, it describes an evolving approach that combines conventional security operations with community engagement, dialogue among stakeholders, collaboration with traditional and religious institutions, support for security agencies, conflict mediation, and development interventions in communities affected by violence. Instead of relying exclusively on military responses, the approach seeks to address some of the social and political conditions that often sustain insecurity. Whether this amounts to a distinct governance model remains open to debate. Nevertheless, it reflects a broader understanding that lasting peace requires more than the deployment of armed personnel. Security may suppress violence temporarily, but durable peace depends equally on trust, inclusion, justice, and economic opportunity.
The next question is unavoidable: Has the approach worked?
The evidence suggests that Kaduna today presents a different security picture from that of three years ago, although not an entirely peaceful one. Around 2023, the state remained one of Nigeria’s most violence-affected regions. Conflict trackers documented frequent attacks, kidnappings, and communal violence, with 85 recorded conflict incidents resulting in 261 fatalities in the final quarter of 2023 alone. Entire communities lived under constant fear, farming activities were disrupted in several local government areas, and many roads within the state became synonymous with insecurity.
Recent years, however, indicate a significant degree of improvement in almost all parts of the state. Some communities have resumed agricultural activities, commercial movement has improved along previously troubled corridors, and government engagement with local communities has become more visible. These developments suggest that violence has, in almost all areas of the state, reduced in intensity. Yet such observations should not be mistaken for a declaration of victory.
A meaningful assessment, however, goes beyond casualty figures alone. It must also consider whether displaced persons have returned home, whether schools operate without interruption, whether farmers cultivate their lands without fear, whether markets function normally, and whether citizens genuinely perceive improvements in their daily security. Peace, as we know it, is not merely the absence of gunfire; it is the restoration of ordinary life.
It is within this context that HURIWA’s endorsement should be understood.
Civil society organisations play an important role in recognising promising governance practices, encouraging innovation, and stimulating public debate. Their endorsements can influence policy conversations and encourage governments to learn from one another. However, endorsements are neither official certifications nor substitutes for independent evaluation. Every governance model, regardless of who praises it, must remain open to scrutiny, evidence, and continuous improvement.
The larger question, therefore, is whether the Kaduna experience can be replicated elsewhere across Northern Nigeria.
It is a fact that certain principles underlying the Kaduna approach are broadly applicable. Community dialogue, cooperation between government and traditional institutions, investment in local peacebuilding, and stronger collaboration with security agencies are strategies that have relevance beyond Kaduna’s borders. But due to the non-uniformity and complexity of the hydra-headed nature of insecurity across Northern Nigeria, it becomes almost impossible for the model to work across the whole of Northern Nigeria. The security dynamics of Kaduna differ from those of Zamfara, Katsina, Sokoto, Niger, Benue, Plateau, or Borno. Banditry, communal conflicts, terrorism, farmer-herder disputes, and transnational criminal networks vary significantly in their causes and manifestations. A strategy that succeeds in one environment cannot simply be copied into another without adjustment.
This probably explains why other northern governors have not simply adopted what is popularly described as the Kaduna Peace Model. Effective governance is context-specific. Every state possesses different demographic realities, institutional capacities, historical grievances, and security challenges. Replication without adaptation risks producing disappointing outcomes. If northern states are to draw lessons from Kaduna’s experience, several adjustments are necessary. Independent conflict assessments should precede policy adoption. Local governments must become stronger partners in peacebuilding. Traditional and religious leaders should be integrated into structured dialogue mechanisms rather than informal consultations alone. Reliable security data should guide decision-making, while transparent monitoring systems should measure outcomes beyond political narratives. Economic recovery, youth employment, and access to justice must complement security interventions if peace is to endure.
Despite its widely acknowledged contributions to reducing insecurity and fostering dialogue over the past three years, the Kaduna Peace Model is not without significant shortcomings. One of its most notable weaknesses is the absence of a clearly documented framework that defines its philosophy, guiding principles, operational structure, implementation strategy, monitoring indicators, and evaluation mechanisms. Consequently, much of what is described as the “Kaduna Peace Model” exists in practice rather than in a codified, replicable document, making independent assessment, institutional continuity, and adaptation by other jurisdictions difficult. Furthermore, the model remains heavily dependent on the commitment of the incumbent political leadership, raising concerns about its sustainability beyond the current administration. While it has contributed to stabilising many communities, it has yet to comprehensively address the underlying structural drivers of conflict, including competition over natural resources and historical grievances, and questions persist regarding transparency, measurable performance indicators, accountability, and the extent of participation by women, youth, victims, and other marginalised groups. These limitations suggest that although the model has demonstrated practical value, its long-term effectiveness would be strengthened through formal documentation, institutionalisation, a robust implementation framework, and regular independent evaluation.
Possibly the greatest lesson from Kaduna is not that it has discovered a perfect formula for peace. No society has. Rather, it demonstrates that conflict management increasingly demands governance approaches that extend beyond military deployments alone. Therefore, HURIWA’s endorsement should not be viewed as the conclusion of the conversation but as its beginning. Whether the Kaduna Peace Model becomes a genuine reference point for other states will depend less on public commendation than on rigorous evidence, independent evaluation, and its ability to produce durable improvements in the lives of ordinary citizens.
In governance, therefore, the true measure of peace is not the number of endorsements the Kaduna Peace Model receives. It is the number of lives it has protected, the communities restored, and the confidence with which citizens wake each morning believing that tomorrow will be safer than yesterday.
Sani Abdulrazak, PhD, is a writer, researcher and public affairs analyst based in Zaria, Kaduna State
Feature/OPED
$40bn Net Reserves, Record Wealth, Relentless Poverty: Who Is Nigeria’s Economy Serving Today?
By Blaise Udunze
No doubt, it was a welcome announcement that Nigeria’s net foreign exchange (FX) reserves have surged by an astonishing 1,233 per cent from about $3 billion to over $40 billion. This would ordinarily be the kind of economic milestone that inspires optimism, coupled with gross external reserves of about $52.52 billion, which are sufficient to finance roughly 11 months of imports of goods and services. Penultimate week, the Governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN), Olayemi Cardoso, presented the development at the end of the 306th meeting of the apex bank’s Monetary Policy Committee (MPC) as evidence that its reforms are working.
It is no surprise that around the same period, one would say that another important economic event occurred with the government sharing more money than ever before with the federal, state, and local governments, as the Federation Account Allocation Committee (FAAC) distributed a record N2.55 trillion, representing an increase of N250 billion over the N2.3 trillion shared in the preceding month.
Of course, the official figures are impressive numbers. Yes, anyone would conclude that the economy is becoming stronger, more stable and better positioned for growth. While this suggests stronger public finances, it also raises the question of whether these larger allocations are producing tangible improvements in the lives of ordinary Nigerians. More interesting is that another set of figures tells a completely different story.
According to the World Bank’s newly approved Country Partnership Framework for Nigeria, 61 per cent of Nigerians now live below the poverty line, while about 79 per cent are either poor or vulnerable to falling into poverty. More than 139 million Nigerians live below the poverty line. Over 86 million people lack access to electricity, while millions of young Nigerians enter the labour market every year with little prospect of decent employment.
The contradiction could not be starker. If reserves are rising, government revenues are increasing, and governments at all levels are receiving record allocations, why are the lives of ordinary Nigerians becoming more difficult?
This is the question policymakers must answer not with statistics, but with tangible improvements in the lives of citizens. If government agencies engineering these figures must know, these are not merely economic statistics; they are the lived realities by which citizens judge any government.
Foreign exchange reserves are not an economic trophy. They are a means to an end. Strong reserves are expected to stabilise the currency, reassure investors, strengthen the country’s ability to withstand external shocks and create an enabling environment for investment, production and employment.
But reserves alone do not feed families nor would they reduce their housing rents. They do not lower transport fares. They do not reduce school fees. They do not make healthcare affordable. Nor do they automatically create jobs.
Ultimately, this is to say that the success of macroeconomic reforms must be measured not by the strength of the CBN’s balance sheet but by the wellbeing of the Nigerian people.
Historically, unlike our dear country, countries that consistently build substantial foreign exchange reserves do so on the back of strong economic fundamentals. The fact is that they maintain sustained trade surpluses, export diversified products, attract large volumes of long-term foreign direct investment (FDI), develop globally competitive manufacturing industries and continuously improve productivity.
Nigeria, unfortunately, still struggles on nearly all these fronts. The country’s export earnings remain overwhelmingly dependent on crude oil. Non-oil exports remain relatively insignificant. Value-added manufacturing exports are weak. Another area that raises concern is agriculture, which continues to export mostly raw commodities rather than higher-value processed products despite being known previously as the country’s mainstay. With all these so-called developments, Nigeria still imports refined petroleum products, machinery, pharmaceuticals, industrial inputs and even food that could be produced locally.
This naturally raises an uncomfortable but legitimate question that requires an answer. Yes, it would be necessary to ask: How exactly has Nigeria grown and accumulated over $40 billion in net foreign exchange reserves without the structural fundamentals that typically support such reserve growth?
The apex bank has continued to credit exchange-rate reforms, improved transparency, stronger investor confidence and increased diaspora remittances. Well, it would be said that these achievements deserve recognition.
However, they do not completely explain the scale or, more importantly, the sustainability of the reserve accumulation.
Nigeria has not consistently recorded the large trade surpluses associated with countries that rapidly accumulate reserves. Oil production remains below historical capacity. Export diversification remains limited. Ease of doing business continues to be constrained by multiple taxation, infrastructure deficits, insecurity, policy uncertainty, logistics bottlenecks and unreliable electricity.
Without addressing these structural deficiencies, reserve accumulation risks becoming more financial than productive.
Equally important is the question of foreign direct investment. Governor Cardoso has argued that improved macroeconomic stability is attracting foreign investors. That may well be true. But confidence alone does not build factories.
The real question is how much fresh FDI has actually entered Nigeria’s productive sectors? How much has gone into manufacturing? How much into agro-processing? How much into export-oriented industries capable of generating sustainable foreign exchange earnings and creating jobs?
If reserve growth is being driven largely by short-term portfolio investments attracted by high interest rates rather than long-term productive investment, then Nigeria remains vulnerable. Portfolio investors can exit as quickly as they entered whenever global financial conditions change.
The unarguable fact is that foreign direct investment, by contrast, creates factories, expands production, develops supply chains and creates lasting employment. Nigeria desperately needs more of the latter.
The CBN also points to diaspora remittances as a growing source of reserve accumulation, projecting inflows of approximately $1 billion every month before the end of the year. Again, this is encouraging.
Again, the country will not be tired of asking questions because several of these questions deserve closer examination. How much of these remittances represent genuinely new inflows rather than funds previously routed through informal channels? Come to think of it, how much of these remittances finance productive investments instead of household consumption? Can diaspora remittances realistically become a permanent substitute for export competitiveness?
No economy has ever industrialised on remittances alone. A nation cannot sustainably depend on the sacrifices of its citizens abroad while failing to create opportunities for them at home.
Beyond the reserve figures lies another troubling contradiction. This is more disturbing because every month, FAAC distributes unprecedented sums to governments across Nigeria. Yet again, with daily regret, the average Nigerian struggles with deteriorating public services.
Honestly speaking, it has become so frustrating that the majority of the people who yearn for pleasant or attractive experiences are struggling as roads remain poor, public hospitals remain overstretched, schools continue to decline, electricity remains unreliable, water infrastructure remains inadequate, and youth unemployment remains widespread. Worst still, think of the cases as the nation continues to grapple with rising inflation, worsening poverty, declining purchasing power, struggling businesses and persistent insecurity.
One major contradiction is that if revenues continue rising while poverty deepens, then one unavoidable question must be asked: Where is the money going? Another pertinent question: How can the citizens be surrounded by water and still suffer from thirst or soap lather in their eyes?
This has been the predominant worry in the minds of many even as the World Bank itself acknowledges this disconnect. While praising recent macroeconomic reforms for improving fiscal stability, strengthening foreign reserves and restoring investor confidence, it concludes emphatically that the gains have not translated into meaningful improvements in living standards.
Ironically, despite the claims of declining inflation, it continues to erode purchasing power. Social protection remains weak. Most Nigerians remain trapped in low-productivity informal employment.
One contradicting and astonishing step taken recently is nowhere more evident than in the Central Bank’s monetary policy. Consider this: despite a marginal decline in headline inflation to 15.91 per cent in June 2026, the Monetary Policy Committee retained the benchmark Monetary Policy Rate (MPR) at 26.5 per cent, alongside a 45 per cent Cash Reserve Ratio (CRR) for commercial banks.
The decision reflects understandable caution. The CBN remains concerned that escalating geopolitical tensions in the Middle East could increase global energy prices, worsen imported inflation and reverse recent gains in price stability.
From a monetary policy perspective, this caution is defensible. But from the standpoint of businesses and households, the consequences are profound. An interest rate of 26.5 per cent inevitably translates into prohibitively expensive bank lending.
The ripple and adverse effects have led to manufacturers struggling to finance expansion. Another tough aspect is seeing the small and medium-sized enterprises, the backbone of employment generation, find access to affordable credit increasingly difficult. Entrepreneurs postpone investments. Factories delay expansion. Potential employers reduce hiring. Economic growth slows.
Ironically, while it is understandable that high interest rates may help stabilise inflation and attract foreign portfolio inflows that support reserves, it should be made known that they simultaneously suppress domestic investment, production and job creation.
In other words, the same policies helping strengthen the country’s macroeconomic indicators may also be constraining the real economy. Even the celebrated decline in inflation deserves closer scrutiny.
The national inflation rate may have eased marginally to 15.91 per cent, but this national average masks severe hardship across much of the country, which continues to create perpetual pain.
How best can this be figured out if data from the National Bureau of Statistics show that 19 states and the Federal Capital Territory recorded inflation rates exceeding 30 per cent, with Niger State above 42 percent and Kogi State exceeding 41 per cent?
Food inflation continues to rise, driven by increases in the prices of tomatoes, pepper, beef, yams, garri and other staple foods.
Businesses themselves remain unconvinced. The Organised Private Sector has welcomed the marginal moderation in inflation but insists that prices remain painfully high for both consumers and businesses.
Leaders of small business associations argue that market realities tell a different story from headline statistics. For millions of Nigerians, inflation is not measured by percentages. It is measured by empty shopping baskets. By reduced meal portions. By businesses shutting their doors. By families withdrawing children from school. By postponed medical treatments.
From a theoretical standpoint, macroeconomic stability is undoubtedly necessary. Without it, sustainable development is impossible. But it would also be agreed that macroeconomic stability alone is not sufficient. It can be argued further that economic reforms must eventually improve household incomes, reduce poverty, expand productive employment and raise living standards.
Otherwise, they risk becoming reforms that look impressive in economic reports but remain invisible in everyday life.
The truth remains that with the current situation, Nigeria therefore stands at a critical pivotal moment and the decisions taken now will determine its future.
The current reserve position should not become a destination for celebration but a foundation for deeper structural transformation. The country must diversify exports beyond crude oil. Strengthen manufacturing. Promote value-added agricultural exports. Improve electricity supply. Reduce the cost of doing business. Expand logistics infrastructure. Attract long-term productive investment.
In addition, support local industries with affordable financing. Strengthen institutions. Improve governance and ensure greater accountability for public spending. Only then will rising reserves translate into rising prosperity. Only then will record FAAC allocations produce visible development. Only then will macroeconomic stability become household stability.
The ultimate measure of economic success is not the number of dollars held in the Central Bank’s vaults. It is whether parents can afford school fees and housing rent. Whether young graduates can find decent jobs. Whether businesses can borrow, produce and expand. Whether families can afford food without sacrificing nutrition. Whether citizens feel that economic growth includes them.
Until those questions receive positive answers, one uncomfortable question will continue to linger. Who Is Nigeria’s Economy Serving Today?
Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos and can be reached via: bl***********@***il.com
