Feature/OPED
Nigeria’s Economy May Not Survive on Statistical Manipulation
By Blaise Udunze
Nigerians should gear up to start seeking accountability from those in power because the country is gradually entering one of the most dangerous phases in its economic history, not merely because inflation is high, unemployment is worsening, or public debt is rising, but because the institutions responsible for telling them the truth about the economy are either failing, compromised, silent or increasingly non-transparent.
At the centre of this deepening crisis are two disturbing realities. First is the National Bureau of Statistics’ failure to publish credible and updated labour force data for more than 14 months, despite unemployment being identified globally as Nigeria’s biggest economic threat. Second is the Budget Office of the Federation’s refusal or inability to publish statutory budget implementation reports for three consecutive quarters in violation of the Fiscal Responsibility Act.
Together, these failures represent something far more dangerous than administrative delay. They expose a governance culture increasingly defined by selective transparency, institutional opacity and economic manipulation. Nigeria is now dangerously close to governing itself without verifiable facts.
A nation cannot plan effectively when it cannot measure unemployment honestly. Neither can it fight corruption or fiscal leakages when it refuses to disclose how public funds are being spent. This is not merely an economic problem. It is a crisis of national credibility.
The irony is painful. While the World Economic Forum’s Global Risks Report identified unemployment and lack of economic opportunity as Nigeria’s leading economic threat for 2026, Nigeria itself has failed to publish official labour statistics capable of accurately measuring that threat since the second quarter of 2024.
That silence speaks volumes and could keep everyone wondering what the problem might be. At a period when millions of Nigerian youths are trapped between hopelessness, with an inflation rate currently 15.69 per cent, collapsing purchasing power and shrinking job opportunities, the absence of current labour data creates an economic blind spot of dangerous proportions. Policymakers are formulating reforms without clear visibility into labour realities.
Investors are assessing risks using outdated or disputed figures. With the apparent lack of clear direction, citizens are left with no choice but to wonder whether economic statistics are now instruments of propaganda rather than reflections of reality.
The controversy surrounding the infamous 4.3 per cent unemployment figure released by the NBS in 2024 only deepened this distrust. It is both laughable and amazing for millions of Nigerians struggling daily to survive. The claim that unemployment had magically crashed from over 33 per cent in 2020 to about 3.06 per cent rate for 2025 felt detached from reality, which is based on March 2026 reports. Factories were shutting down. Multinationals were exiting Nigeria. Manufacturing firms were downsizing. Informal labour was exploding. Youth migration was accelerating. Yet official statistics suggested Nigeria was suddenly approaching near-full employment.
The explanation lay in the controversial redesign of the unemployment methodology. Under the revised framework, anybody who worked even minimal hours weekly could be classified as employed. While the NBS argued that the changes aligned with international best practices, critics insisted that the methodology ignored Nigeria’s peculiar economic conditions, dominated by underemployment, survival jobs, disguised unemployment and casual labour.
The backlash was immediate and fierce. The Nigeria Labour Congress described the report as “fraudulent” and a “voodoo document”. Labour leaders warned that rebasing employment definitions merely to produce lower unemployment figures would destroy public trust in national statistics. Trade unions, manufacturers and employers’ associations openly rejected the figures.
The reality confronting businesses contradicted the official optimism. Textile factories were closing. Manufacturers were rationalising staff due to unbearable energy costs, foreign exchange instability and multiple taxation. Labour unions lamented rising casualisation as permanent jobs disappeared. The National Union of Chemical, Footwear, Rubber, Leather and Non-Metallic Products Employees revealed it had lost over 20,000 workers within one year because companies could no longer survive Nigeria’s harsh operating environment.
Yet official figures suggested unemployment was falling. This contradiction is dangerous because economic data is not supposed to comfort governments; it is supposed to guide policy.
When data becomes politically convenient rather than economically truthful, governance itself becomes distorted.
The problem is not merely methodological. It is institutional credibility. Why did the unemployment rate collapse statistically while poverty, inflation and hunger worsened visibly? Why has the NBS failed to publish updated labour force statistics for over 14 months if confidence in the methodology remains intact? Why are citizens increasingly suspicious of official numbers?
Unarguably, these questions matter because trust in national statistics is foundational to economic governance, but it appears that policymakers place less importance on this fact.
One thing that is missing is that they have yet to take into cognisance that countries cannot attract sustainable investments when investors doubt the credibility of official data. This is to say that international lenders, development institutions, and private investors depend on reliable statistics to evaluate risks, forecast growth and allocate resources. Once statistical integrity becomes questionable, economic credibility suffers.
Unfortunately, the non-transparency surrounding labour data is now being mirrored in Nigeria’s fiscal management architecture. The Budget Office of the Federation has failed to publish statutory budget implementation reports for three consecutive quarters despite explicit provisions of the Fiscal Responsibility Act requiring quarterly disclosure.
This failure is profound. Budget implementation reports are not ceremonial publications. But they have failed to acknowledge that these are among the few mechanisms citizens possess to independently evaluate whether public funds are being used responsibly. The simple fact is that these reports reveal actual revenue generated, expenditures incurred, projects executed and budget performance levels. Without them, public finance enters dangerous darkness.
According to findings, reports for the third and fourth quarters of 2025 and the first quarter of 2026 remain unpublished. This marks the first time in 15 years that Nigeria’s Budget Office has failed to release quarterly budget performance reports.
More concerning is that this comes at a time when Nigeria is implementing one of the largest budgets in its history. The National Assembly recently approved a staggering N68.3 trillion 2026 budget, significantly higher than the original N58.4 trillion proposal. While government officials describe it as a “legacy budget” aimed at infrastructure development and capital investment, Nigerians still do not know how previous budgets were substantially implemented.
This creates a dangerous accountability vacuum. How can citizens assess whether previous allocations achieved measurable outcomes when implementation reports are hidden? How can lawmakers exercise oversight without timely disclosures? How can anti-corruption agencies track leakages effectively? How can development partners verify fiscal discipline?
The truth is simple because unpublished budgets create fertile grounds for corruption, waste and fiscal manipulation.
More troubling are recent revelations from the World Bank exposing structural leakages within Nigeria’s fiscal system. According to the institution, over N34.53 trillion was diverted through pre-distribution deductions between 2023 and 2025 before revenues reached the Federation Account.
That figure is staggering. The World Bank warned that approximately 41 per cent of government revenues never reached distributable pools because they were deducted as “first-line charges” by agencies operating outside conventional budgetary scrutiny.
Reports indicating that over $214 billion in public funds may have been lost, diverted, or trapped in non-transparent fiscal systems over the last decade capture the scale of Nigeria’s accountability crisis. More recently, it’s the shenanigans on the FAAC allocations of N800billion funds from States’ statutory shares meant to pay civil servants and improve on social amenities were channelled into private accounts linked to the Governor of Imo State, Hope Uzodinma, Chairman of the Progressive Governors Forum, to fund Tinubu’s 2027 re-election campaign.
With these intolerable developments, it becomes glaring that this is precisely why transparency without secrecy matters. The challenge is that when billions and trillions of funds move through non-transparent structures without rigorous disclosure, accountability collapses, whilst the citizens lose visibility over public finances and institutions responsible for oversight become weakened or compromised, which remains a litmus test for trust.
ActionAid Nigeria rightly described the development as “institutionalised revenue erosion” and warned that continued impenetrability undermines fiscal stability, public trust and development.
Truly and without an iota of doubt, its warning deserves more serious attention at this time. At a period when Nigerians are enduring painful economic reforms, rising transport costs, collapsing purchasing power, worsening insecurity and deepening hunger, every missing naira has human consequences. Every hidden expenditure weakens healthcare delivery, education, infrastructure and social protection.
One painful and unbearable approach is that instead of increasing transparency to reassure citizens, government institutions appear increasingly hard to understand, just to continue in their criminal and wasteful acts.
The consequences extend beyond economics into democratic legitimacy itself. Public trust erodes when citizens believe governments manipulate data, conceal budget performance and evade accountability. Eventually, institutions lose moral authority. Official figures become objects of suspicion rather than instruments of governance.
This is the larger danger confronting Nigeria today. Economic suffocation rarely begins with recession alone. It begins when institutions stop telling the truth.
It begins when governments prioritise narrative management over measurable realities. It deepens when citizens can no longer independently verify claims about unemployment, inflation, debt, revenue or budget performance.
Nigeria now risks entering that dangerous territory. Even more concerning is the growing culture of overlapping budgets, delayed implementation cycles and weak fiscal discipline. The government is reportedly still implementing components of previous budgets while simultaneously introducing new appropriations worth tens of trillions of naira.
This raises serious questions about planning efficiency, execution capacity and fiscal sustainability. If only about a quarter of approved capital expenditure is being effectively implemented, as recent reports suggest, then Nigeria’s challenge is not merely budget size but governance quality. Large budgets without transparency become monuments of waste.
The Fiscal Responsibility Commission, established to enforce compliance, has also appeared largely ineffective. Although the Fiscal Responsibility Act outlines numerous offences, enforcement remains weak while violations attract little or no consequences.
This culture of impunity emboldens institutional noncompliance. The implications for Nigeria’s economy are severe.
In every functional business atmosphere, foreign investors seek predictable and transparent environments. Credit rating agencies evaluate governance credibility alongside macroeconomic indicators. Development institutions increasingly emphasise fiscal accountability and data reliability, but this does not apply to Nigeria.
An economy governed through disputed statistics and unpublished fiscal reports cannot inspire long-term confidence. The Tinubu administration must take cognisance of the fact that credibility itself is now an economic asset.
Understandably, reforms may initially be painful, but the irresistible fact is that citizens tolerate sacrifice better when governance appears transparent, honest and accountable. What destroys confidence is the perception that institutions are concealing realities while citizens bear the burden of economic hardship.
Nigeria does not merely need economic reforms. It needs truth-based governance. The National Bureau of Statistics must urgently restore credibility by publishing updated labour force statistics transparently and consistently. Methodological frameworks should be openly explained, while stakeholder engagement must be strengthened to rebuild public confidence.
Similarly, the Budget Office must immediately release all outstanding budget implementation reports as required by law. Judging from the trend of events, it is a well-known fact that fiscal transparency cannot remain optional in a struggling economy already burdened by debt, inflation and widespread distrust.
Beyond publication, enforcement mechanisms must become stronger. Institutions that violate statutory disclosure obligations should face consequences. Accountability cannot survive where compliance is selective.
Nigeria’s future depends not only on how much revenue it generates or how large its budgets become, but on whether institutions remain credible enough to manage public trust.
Because no economy can thrive sustainably and more importantly, Nigeria cannot build its $1 trllion economy on invisible budgets, missing labour data, manufactured statistics and selective transparency. And no nation survives for long when truth itself becomes negotiable.
Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos and can be reached via: bl***********@***il.com
By Sani Abdulrazak, PhD
People go through watershed moments sometimes when the cacophony of politics attempts to drown the cadence of progress; it becomes more serious when chimaera masquerades as certainty, but it is a known fact after all that the loudest voices are most times not necessarily the wisest.
Kaduna seems to have arrived at one of those moments. The propagandist opposition within the state is trying very hard to burnish manifestoes and criticisms wrapped in hyperbole and rehearsed until it begins to mistake itself for truth.
Yet, history has always been an unforgiving arbiter. It has an uncanny habit of stripping rhetoric naked, leaving only the vestiges of deeds. It is against that backdrop that one is compelled to reflect, not on who shouts the loudest, especially on social media, but on who has quietly altered the landscape of the beautiful crocodile state. That, conceivably, is the choice before Kaduna State.
Education hewn the destiny of a society, long before it is announced in boardrooms. Governor Uba Sani of Kaduna State appears to appreciate this axiom. As if constructing hundreds of classrooms, renovating neglected schools, expanding access to education and reviving projects abandoned to bureaucratic torpor is not remarkably astral, his administration has gone further to make tertiary education more affordable through the reduction of tuition fees in state-owned institutions. That single decision has become a bulwark against hopelessness for thousands of families. Parents breathe easier, students remain in school instead of abandoning their dreams, enrolment has received fresh impetus, and human capital has become a little less hostage to economic adversity.
Even the reconstruction of roads within Ahmadu Bello University, despite its federal status, speaks of governance that refuses to hide behind jurisdictional caveats. Curiously, while lecture halls become fuller, some critics remain engrossed in composing jeremiads, as though hashtags now award degrees and social media threads have replaced convocation ceremonies. If this does not deserve another term, then perhaps Kaduna should entrust its classrooms to keyboard warriors instead?
A sector that defies drama, yet consequentially integral in Kaduna State is healthcare. Primary Healthcare Centres have continued to receive upgrades, sixteen general hospitals have witnessed rehabilitation, the once-abandoned 300-bed Specialist Hospital has emerged from years of limbo, health insurance coverage has expanded considerably, and investments in personnel and equipment continue with assiduity. Yet, one occasionally encounters the strange absurdity wrapped as opposition, that government should be judged not by functioning hospitals but by the virulence of online criticism. It is almost as though some believe ailments or surgeries retreat before social media posts. Should we now replace stethoscopes with microphones or social media posts and call it healthcare?
If there is any sector that more clearly illustrates the difference between governance and grandstanding in Kaduna State, it is agriculture. Mechanisation, dry-season farming, free fertiliser distribution, value addition, the Special Agro-Industrial Processing Zone and renewed support for farmers all point towards a carefully crafted paradigm rather than an accidental policy.
There is a metamorphosis taking place in rural communities indeed. While genuine farmers harvest maize, ginger and tomatoes, critics harvest conspiracy theories with astonishing alacrity. One group tills the soil and produces food; the other tills public resentment. Since when did viral posts become a substitute for fertile fields?
They wouldn’t want to take their ballyhoo to infrastructure for sure, because infrastructure refuses to remain invisible no matter how determined propaganda may be. Roads snake through communities once forgotten, bridges reconnect places long separated, water projects restore hope where scarcity once seemed ineluctable, and abandoned projects have gradually returned from institutional comatose. Yet there exists a peculiar group of disgruntled politicians that notices every pothole repaired only long enough to ask why another one still exists somewhere else. It is a curious predilection, almost quixotic, to dismiss completed projects because perfection has not yet arrived. Must development now apologise for not occurring overnight?
Security remains man’s most delicate labyrinth, and perhaps the easiest subject upon which to score political points. No responsible leader claims absolute victory against insecurity, yet few can deny that many communities once deserted have gradually witnessed the return of farming, commerce and social interaction. Such progress may not satisfy those addicted to political apoplexy, but it certainly matters to the farmer returning to his land after years of displacement. Or should insecurity be preserved simply because it offers better campaign material?
Economic governance, that complex yet rarely glamorous aspect of governance, is not left out. Increased internally generated revenue, prudent expenditure, strategic partnerships, capital investments and fiscal discipline have gradually strengthened Kaduna’s financial architecture. International partners investing in Kaduna State seldom do so because of slogans, but because of credibility. Sadly, the numbers don’t lie as data is a very stubborn thing. Are spreadsheets now expected to consult political parties before balancing their figures, or should economic data also join the opposition?
Youth empowerment deserves equal reflection. With a skills acquisition centre in each of the three senatorial zones of the state, entrepreneurship support, digital innovation and targeted interventions for small businesses, an attempt is being made to replace dependency with productivity. The apotheosis of governance is not the endless distribution of charity but the deliberate creation of opportunity. Young people increasingly seek tools and training against tokenism and expectancy. Still, some measure empowerment only by the number of campaign T-shirts distributed during election season. Have branded caps suddenly become the highest form of economic policy?
The choice before Kaduna State is simpler than it first appears. Shall we exchange reduced tuition fees for recycled promises? Shall rehabilitated hospitals be traded for rehearsed indignation? Shall roads surrender to rhetoric, farms to social media debates, security gains to sensationalism, and fiscal prudence to flamboyant bombast? Shall tangible progress bow before political charlatanry merely because criticism aims to be louder than construction?
For our democracy to grow further, we must come to a non-negotiable conclusion that the ballot is not an instrument for rewarding the most eloquent critic, but for judging the most effective steward. How promising can stewardship be when classrooms are expanding, hospitals are reopening, roads are stretching farther, farmers are receiving greater support, communities are gradually becoming safer, and opportunities are multiplying.
The evidence before us is not ephemerally ethereal, but enduringly concrete. And so, the lingering questions refuse to disappear: if this is not the direction Kaduna should continue, then what is? If these are not the footprints of purposeful leadership, whose are? If measurable progress has become insufficient, what miracle remains outstanding? And if the answer lies somewhere beyond Governor Uba Sani, then who, exactly, has presented Kaduna with a more convincing testament than the one already written across its schools, hospitals, farms, roads and communities?
Sani Abdulrazak, PhD, is a writer, researcher and a public affairs analyst based in Zaria, Kaduna State.
By Blaise Udunze
From a general observation, comparisons are powerful political tools. They simplify complex realities, inspire supporters and shape public perception. Another side of this is that they can also become misleading when symbolism replaces substance.
The latter appears to be the objective behind two recent interventions in defence of his excellency, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu. Respectfully, it was observed that veteran journalist Martin Oloja likened Tinubu’s political journey to that of football icon Lionel Messi. He portrayed him as a resilient strategist whose patience and tactical brilliance eventually produced victory. As this now appears to be a trend, Imo State Governor Hope Uzodimma further elevated the narrative, comparing Tinubu to Singapore’s founding Prime Minister, Lee Kuan Yew. He didn’t stop at that; rather further argued that today’s painful reforms would eventually transform Nigeria just as Lee transformed Singapore. They are compelling analogies.
Unfortunately, it was observed that both began to unravel once governance, not politics, was used as the standard of measurement.
It is a known fact to the world that Lionel Messi is celebrated not because he endured criticism or finally lifted the World Cup after years of disappointment. He is celebrated because his greatness is measurable. His goals are counted. His assists are recorded. His trophies are displayed, and not just that, his records speak louder than the opinions of his admirers, which may have taken a different turn now after the outcome of the 2026 FIFA World Cup.
The same is also true of Lee Kuan Yew. History has shown that he is not revered because he introduced difficult reforms or enjoyed the support of loyal political allies. Governor Hope should be reminded that Lee is remembered because he fundamentally transformed Singapore. Amongst his achievements were transforming a poor trading port into one of the world’s richest, cleanest, safest and most efficiently governed nations.
Lee’s records speak for him because under his leadership, Singapore built world-class infrastructure, an incorruptible public service, globally competitive education, affordable housing, investor confidence and one of the highest standards of living anywhere in the world.
Neither Messi nor Lee Kuan Yew became legends through carefully crafted narratives. Yes, they became legends because the evidence became impossible to dispute. That is precisely where comparisons with President Tinubu become difficult.
It is an error to assume that winning elections is the same as winning governance, and at the same time, political brilliance may secure power, but only effective leadership secures history’s approval.
For millions of Nigerians, governance is not measured by campaign strategy or political resilience. It is measured by the realities they confront every morning.
Can they afford food? Can they pay transport fares? Can they pay rent with the current landlords’ economy? Can they keep their businesses open? Can they sleep or travel freely without fear of kidnapping? Can they find jobs after graduation? Can they access reliable electricity and healthcare? These are the scoreboards by which governments are judged.
Supporters of the Tinubu administration frequently point to encouraging macroeconomic indicators. Foreign reserves have improved. Government revenues have risen. States now receive significantly larger allocations through the Federation Account Allocation Committee (FAAC). Well, these ‘achievements’ will be reviewed soon through the lens of news narratives. International financial institutions have welcomed several policy reforms. The removal of fuel subsidy and exchange-rate liberalisation are presented as courageous decisions that previous administrations avoided.
These developments deserve acknowledgement. Yet macroeconomic improvements are not the same as improvements in citizens’ welfare.
In reality, an economy cannot be declared successful merely because government revenues have increased while household purchasing power continues to deteriorate, as this would be a complete aberration.
Again, it is considered an anomaly that Nigeria reports stronger fiscal numbers, but millions of families continue to struggle with soaring food prices, rising transport costs, expensive housing, high electricity tariffs and shrinking disposable incomes.
Statistics may comfort policymakers. They rarely comfort hungry citizens. Messi never celebrated possession statistics after losing a match; rather, he cried and cried over losing the opportunity of winning the trophy at the concluded 2026 FIFA World Cup. To him, results mattered.
The reality is that governments should be judged by the same principle. This is open to dispute, but of a truth, Governor Uzodimma’s comparison to Lee Kuan Yew deserves even closer scrutiny because it raises an important question, though it may appear hard to answer.
If Tinubu is Nigeria’s Lee Kuan Yew, where is Nigeria’s Singapore? What exactly made Lee Kuan Yew exceptional? Was it simply his willingness to implement painful reforms? Certainly not.
Many leaders across the developing world have introduced painful reforms. Very few transformed their countries.
One thing stands out here: Lee’s legacy rests on outcomes, not intentions. Judging from all indications, it is obvious that his reforms dramatically reduced corruption, attracted investment, strengthened institutions, expanded industrialisation, improved education, guaranteed affordable public housing and steadily raised incomes across generations. Unlike Nigeria’s ongoing experience, Singapore’s rise was not a promise repeatedly postponed to the future. Citizens experienced tangible improvements in their daily lives. That is why history celebrates Lee Kuan Yew. Nigeria’s present reality tells a different story.
It is glaring and ironic that despite improved fiscal revenues, many Nigerians continue to grapple with rising inflation, worsening poverty, declining purchasing power, youth unemployment, struggling businesses and persistent insecurity. If they must know, these are not merely economic statistics; they are the lived realities by which citizens judge any government.
The Lee Kuan Yew comparison also overlooks perhaps the most important ingredient behind Singapore’s success, which is primarily the institutions.
It is obvious and practically doubtful if Governor Uzodinma’s kind of Singapore is the same as the one on which its transformation was built upon an efficient bureaucracy, disciplined public institutions, predictable regulation, meritocracy, uncompromising anti-corruption enforcement and consistent long-term planning as championed by Lee Kuan Yew. An honest question here is, can the same be said of Nigeria today?
The truth is not far-fetched; Nigeria is nothing close to it because the realities and lived experiences of Nigerians are that the country continues to grapple with weak institutions, policy inconsistency, bureaucratic inefficiency, corruption concerns and widespread insecurity.
His impeccable achievements are built on the institutions; hence, without institutional transformation, every effort to invoke Lee Kuan Yew risks confusing aspiration with achievement.
One common trend witnessed lately is that the supporters of the administration often argue that Nigerians must be patient because meaningful reforms require time. That argument deserves consideration.
Let it also be made known that patience should never become an endless substitute for accountability. Citizens are also entitled to ask whether the sacrifices demanded today are producing measurable improvements tomorrow.
History remembers leaders not because they prescribed hardship, but because that hardship ultimately produced prosperity for those alive and not for the dead.
Another weakness in both comparisons is the tendency to confuse political mastery with administrative excellence. These are totally two different things, because when it comes to winning elections, it requires coalition building, negotiation and political calculation. Whilst running a nation demands competent institutions, sound economic management, transparency, public trust and measurable improvements in living standards.
Again, the two are not the same, and for this reason, many exceptional politicians have governed poorly. Many successful administrators never became political giants. Democracy ultimately rewards governance, not political mythology.
This is not to suggest that President Tinubu’s administration has achieved nothing. Tax reforms, infrastructure investments, fiscal restructuring and efforts to stabilise public finances represent important policy initiatives whose long-term impact remains to be seen. Well, acknowledging those initiatives is consistent with honest public discourse.
Equally important, however, is recognising that millions of Nigerians continue to judge the administration through the realities and their lived experiences rather than the promises they hear.
Football supporters judged Lionel Messi by the trophies in the cabinet. In like manner, history judges Lee Kuan Yew by the Singapore he built. The same measure should be applied in this nation, as Nigerians will judge President Tinubu by the Nigeria he leaves behind.
The key metric here is that if inflation falls sustainably, poverty declines significantly, insecurity is substantially reduced, electricity becomes more reliable, industries expand, jobs multiply, and citizens regain confidence in the future, history will acknowledge those achievements without requiring comparisons to Messi or Lee Kuan Yew.
Neither Messi nor Lee Kuan Yew needed political allies to persuade the world of their greatness, and that distinguishes both as the greatest of all time (GOAT).
Their records spoke for themselves. Political endorsements may dominate today’s headlines. History, however, listens only to evidence. Even Messi needed trophies. Lee Kuan Yew needed results. Nigerian leaders should be judged by no lesser standard.
Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos and can be reached via: bl***********@***il.com
By Jerome-Mario Utomi
There are moments in the life of a nation when leadership is measured not merely by the ability to command institutions but by the courage to transform them. Such moments demand more than administrative competence; they require vision, strategic communication, and an unwavering commitment to rebuilding public confidence. The keynote address delivered on behalf of the Inspector-General of Police (IGP), Mr Olatunji Rilwan Disu, at the Lagos PR Fest 2026 grand finale was one of such defining moments.
Held at the iconic MUSON Centre, Onikan, Lagos, the event transcended the boundaries of a conventional police engagement. It became a national conversation on security, governance, public trust, and the indispensable role of strategic communication in nation-building.
More importantly, the IGP, who was represented at the event by AIG Simeon Udofia Akpanudom, Head of the Force Criminal Investigation Department (FCID) Annex, Alagbon Close, Ikoyi, revealed a policing philosophy that is quietly but deliberately redefining the image and operational culture of the Nigeria Police Force.
For decades, public perception of policing in Nigeria has largely been shaped by mistrust, misunderstanding, and an unfortunate history of strained relations between citizens and law enforcement agencies. While successive administrations have introduced reforms, many struggled to address the most fundamental ingredient of effective policing-public trust.
IGP Disu appears determined to confront that challenge from an entirely different perspective.
His declaration that “security is everyone’s business” was not a rhetorical flourish. It was a profound statement of intent. It reflected an understanding that sustainable security cannot be achieved through coercion alone but through partnership, inclusion, transparency, and continuous engagement with the people. Indeed, what the IGP has introduced is more than institutional reform. It is a comprehensive rebranding of policing itself.
Unlike cosmetic rebranding that focuses on uniforms, slogans, or public ceremonies, this initiative is rooted in changing institutional culture and public perception simultaneously. It seeks to replace fear with confidence, suspicion with collaboration, and silence with meaningful dialogue.
The brilliance of this approach lies in its recognition that trust is not demanded; it is earned.
Throughout the keynote, the IGP consistently emphasised evidence-based communication, accountability, and transparency as pillars upon which public confidence must be rebuilt. At a time when misinformation travels faster than facts, and public institutions are constantly subjected to intense scrutiny, his insistence that policing should be supported by credible information rather than propaganda reflects both wisdom and contemporary relevance.
Perhaps nowhere is this transformation more visible than in the establishment and expansion of the Violent Crimes Response Unit (VCRU). Rather than allowing achievements to remain hidden within internal reports, the Nigeria Police Force is increasingly communicating measurable outcomes, demonstrable operational effectiveness, and encouraging independent public assessment.
This deliberate openness and transparency represent a significant departure from the communication style traditionally associated with many security institutions.
Equally commendable is the renewed emphasis on accessible channels for complaints, feedback and citizen engagement. Every modern democratic institution understands that accountability strengthens authority rather than weakening it. By inviting public scrutiny instead of avoiding it, the Nigeria Police under IGP Disu is gradually redefining what institutional confidence should look like. The Inspector-General deserves particular commendation for recognising that public relations is not an appendage to policing but an operational necessity.
Far too often, public relations is misunderstood as image laundering or crisis management. In reality, effective public relations is about building relationships, creating understanding, managing expectations, and sustaining credibility. It is this broader and more professional understanding that permeated the Inspector-General’s address.
His decision to engage public relations professionals at Lagos PR Fest was therefore highly symbolic. It demonstrated that security communication must evolve beyond press statements announcing arrests or crime statistics. It must become a continuous conversation with citizens, communities, opinion leaders, professional bodies, and the media.
Equally remarkable is the renewed focus on community policing and the revitalisation of the Police Community Relations Committee (PCRC). These initiatives acknowledge an enduring truth: communities understand their security challenges better than distant bureaucracies.
By encouraging local participation, youth engagement, religious leaders, traditional institutions, and civil society organisations to become active stakeholders, the Nigeria Police is moving policing closer to the people it serves.
This approach is consistent with successful policing models across the world where intelligence flows more freely because communities trust law enforcement agencies enough to share information.
The emphasis on participatory campaigns such as “Security is Everyone’s Business” and “If you see something, say something” further reinforces this philosophy. These messages wisely redefine every citizen from being a passive observer into an active contributor to national security.
That represents strategic public relations at its finest. Perhaps the most compelling dimension of the Inspector General’s address is his deliberate connection between policing and nation-building.
Security does not exist in isolation. It supports economic growth, encourages investment, protects democratic institutions, and creates the stability necessary for social development. Safe highways promote commerce. Secure schools guarantee educational continuity. Protected communities attract investment. Professional law enforcement strengthens constitutional governance.
Viewed through this broader lens, policing becomes an essential instrument of national development rather than merely an agency of law enforcement. The Inspector-General’s appeal for “Nigeria First” narratives equally deserves commendation. In an era characterised by misinformation, polarisation, and divisive narratives, institutions must intentionally promote messages that unite rather than divide.
Strategic communication has become an important national asset. This is where professional public relations practitioners have an enormous responsibility. Their expertise extends beyond media visibility to fostering social cohesion, encouraging responsible public discourse, and strengthening confidence in democratic institutions.
The Nigerian Institute of Public Relations (NIPR), therefore, occupies a strategic position in supporting this national assignment.
Naturally, scepticism remains understandable. Public confidence, once diminished, cannot be restored overnight. Institutional reforms require consistency, measurable outcomes, and sustained leadership commitment.
Fortunately, the Inspector-General himself demonstrated refreshing realism by acknowledging that rebuilding trust remains an ongoing process. That honesty itself strengthens credibility.
His clearly articulated roadmap-rebuilding institutional credibility through transparency, strengthening community intelligence through grassroots participation, and promoting national cohesion through coordinated communication-provides a practical framework for long-term institutional renewal.
Importantly, these objectives align with internationally recognised principles of democratic policing. What distinguishes the current leadership is the willingness to place communication at the very centre of institutional transformation rather than treating it as an afterthought.
Leadership is often remembered less for the challenges inherited than for the direction established. Judging from the philosophy articulated at Lagos PR Fest 2026, IGP Disu is laying the foundation for a policing model that recognises that legitimacy derives not only from constitutional authority but from public confidence.
That distinction is profound. A police force may possess legal powers, but without public trust those powers become increasingly difficult to exercise effectively. Conversely, when citizens willingly cooperate, volunteer intelligence, respect lawful authority, and see themselves as partners, security becomes collective rather than confrontational.
That appears to be the future envisioned by the Inspector-General. His concluding appeal that all stakeholders must work together in transparency, accountability, and shared responsibility captures the essence of democratic policing in the twenty-first century.
Ultimately, the significance of the Lagos PR Fest address extends far beyond one conference or one keynote presentation. It represents a declaration that the Nigeria Police Force is prepared to measure success not only by arrests made or crimes prevented but also by relationships built, confidence restored, and communities united.
For me, the recent elevation by the IGP and express approval by the Nigerian Police Service Commission of some senior officers to the rank of Assistant Inspectors-General of Police (AIGs). Commissioners of Police (CPs) and others truly proves beyond reasonable doubt that the IGP is a man who understands that professionalism, strategic thinking and operational excellence are the defining features of global policing. In fact, analysts in particular and Nigerians of goodwill in general are beginning to view the recent appointment of IGP Disu as a very huge blessing to the nation.
If sustained with consistency, integrity, and measurable performance, this strategic shift may well become one of the most consequential institutional reforms in contemporary Nigeria. For at the heart of every peaceful nation lies a simple but enduring truth: security thrives where trust flourishes.
By placing strategic public relations at the centre of policing, IGP Disu has demonstrated an appreciation of that timeless principle. In doing so, he has presented Nigerians with something far more valuable than a communication strategy. He has presented a vision.
A vision in which the police badge symbolises not fear but reassurance; not distance but partnership; not mere authority but earned legitimacy. That is a vision worthy of national support, thoughtful reflection, and sustained implementation.
Utomi, a media specialist, writes from Lagos, Nigeria. He can be reached via Je*********@***oo.com/08032725374
