Feature/OPED
Recapitalisation Without Transformation is a Risk Nigeria Cannot Afford
By Blaise Udunze
In barely two weeks, Nigeria’s banking sector will once again be at a historic turning point. As the deadline for the latest recapitalisation exercise approaches on March 31, 2026, with no fewer than 31 banks having met the new capital rule, leaving out two that are reportedly awaiting verification. As exercise progresses and draws to an end, policymakers are optimistic that stronger banks will anchor financial stability and support the country’s ambition of building a $1 trillion economy.
The reform, driven by the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) under Governor Olayemi Cardoso, requires banks to significantly raise their capital thresholds, which are set at N500 billion for international banks, N200 billion for national banks, and N50 billion for regional lenders. According to the apex bank, 33 banks have already tapped the capital market through rights issues and public offerings; collectively, the total verified and approved capital raised by the banks amounts to N4.05 trillion.
No doubt, at first glance, the strategy definitely appears straightforward with the idea that bigger capital means stronger banks, and stronger banks should finance economic growth. But history offers a cautionary reminder that capital alone does not guarantee resilience, as it would be recalled that Nigeria has travelled this road before.
During the 2004-2005 consolidation led by former CBN Governor Charles Soludo, the number of banks in the country shrank dramatically from 89 to 25. The reform created larger institutions that were celebrated as national champions. The truth is that Nigeria has been here before because, despite all said and done, barely five years later, the banking system plunged into crisis, forcing regulatory intervention, bailouts, and the creation of the Asset Management Corporation of Nigeria (AMCON) to absorb toxic assets.
The lesson from that experience is simple in the sense that recapitalisation without structural reform only postpones deeper problems.
Today, as banks race to meet the new capital thresholds, the real question is not how much capital has been raised but whether the reform will transform the fundamentals of Nigerian banking. The underlying fact is that if the exercise merely inflates balance sheets without addressing deeper vulnerabilities, Nigeria risks repeating a familiar cycle of apparent stability followed by systemic stress, as the resultant effect will be distressed banks less capable of bringing the economy out of the woods.
The real measure of success is far simpler. That is to say, stronger banks must stimulate economic productivity, stabilise the financial system, and expand access to credit for businesses and households. Anything less will amount to a missed opportunity.
One of the most critical issues surrounding the recapitalisation drive is the quality of the capital being raised.
Nigeria’s banking sector has reportedly secured more than N4.5 trillion in new capital commitments across different categories of banks. No doubt, on paper, these numbers may appear impressive. Going by the trends of events in Nigeria’s economy, numbers alone can be deceptive.
Past recapitalisation cycles revealed troubling practices, whereby funds raised through related-party transactions, borrowed money disguised as equity, or complex financial arrangements that recycled risks back into the banking system. If such practices resurface, recapitalisation becomes little more than an accounting exercise.
To avert a repeat of failure, the CBN must therefore ensure that every naira raised represents genuine, loss-absorbing capital. Transparency around capital sources, ownership structures, and funding arrangements must be non-negotiable. Without credible capital, balance sheet strength becomes an illusion that will make every recapitalisation exercise futile.
In financial systems, credibility is itself a form of capital. If there is one recurring factor behind banking crises in Nigeria, it is corporate governance failure.
Many past collapses were not triggered by global shocks but by insider lending, weak board oversight, excessive executive power, and poor risk culture. Recapitalisation provides regulators with a rare opportunity to reset governance standards across the industry.
Boards must be independent not only in structure but also in substance. Risk committees must be empowered to challenge executive decisions. Insider lending rules must be enforced without compromise because, over the years, they have proven to be an anathema against the stability of the financial sector. The stakes are high.
When governance fails, fresh capital can quickly become fresh fuel for old excesses. Without governance reform, recapitalisation risks reinforcing the very weaknesses it seeks to eliminate.
Another structural vulnerability lies in Nigeria’s increasing amount of non-performing loans (NPLs), which recently caused the CBN to raise concerns, as Nigeria experiences a rise in bad loans threatening banking stability.
Industry data suggests that the banking sector’s NPL ratio has climbed above the prudential benchmark of 5 per cent, reaching roughly 7 per cent in recent assessments. Many of these troubled loans are concentrated in sectors such as oil and gas, power, and government-linked infrastructure projects, alongside other factors such as FX instability, high interest rates, and the withdrawal of Covid-era forbearance, which threaten bank stability.
While regulatory forbearance has helped maintain short-term stability, it has also obscured deeper asset-quality concerns. A credible recapitalisation process must confront this reality directly.
Loan classification standards must reflect economic truth rather than regulatory convenience. Banks should not carry impaired assets indefinitely while presenting healthy balance sheets to investors and depositors.
Transparency about asset quality strengthens trust. Concealment destroys it. Few forces have disrupted Nigerian bank balance sheets in recent years as severely as exchange-rate volatility.
Many banks still operate with significant foreign exchange mismatches, borrowing short-term in foreign currencies while lending long-term to clients earning revenues in naira. When the naira depreciates sharply, these mismatches can erode capital faster than any credit loss.
Recapitalisation must therefore be accompanied by stricter supervision of foreign exchange exposure, as this part calls for the regulator to heighten its supervision. Banks should be required to disclose currency risks more transparently and undergo rigorous stress testing at intervals that assume adverse currency scenarios rather than best-case outcomes. In a structurally import-dependent economy, ignoring FX risk is no longer an option.
Nigeria’s banking system has long been characterised by excessive concentration in a few sectors and corporate clients, which calls for adequate monitoring and the need to be addressed quickly for the recapitalisation drive to yield maximum results.
Growth in most advanced economies comes from the small and medium-sized enterprises that are well-funded. Anything short of this undermines it, since the concentration of huge loans to large oil and gas companies, government-related entities, and major conglomerates absorbs a disproportionate share of bank lending. This has continued to pose a major threat to the system, as the case is with small and medium-sized enterprises, the backbone of job creation, which remain chronically underfinanced. This imbalance weakens the economy.
Recapitalisation should therefore be tied to policies that encourage credit diversification and risk-sharing mechanisms that allow banks to lend more confidently to productive sectors such as agriculture, manufacturing, and technology rather than investing their funds into the government’s securities. Bigger banks that remain narrowly exposed do not strengthen the economy. They amplify its fragilities.
Nigeria’s macroeconomic conditions, which are its broad economic settings, are defined by frequent and sometimes sharp changes or instability rather than stability.
Inflation shocks, interest-rate swings, fiscal pressures, and currency adjustments are not rare disruptions; but they have now become a normal part of the economic environment. Despite all these adverse factors, many banks still operate risk models that assume relative stability. Perhaps unbeknownst to the stakeholders, this disconnect is dangerous.
Owing to possible shocks, and when banks increase their capital (recapitalisation), it is required that banks adopt more sophisticated risk-management frameworks capable of withstanding severe economic scenarios, with the expectation that stronger banks should also have stronger systems to manage risks and survive economic crises. In Nigeria today, every financial institution’s stress testing must be performed in the face of the economy facing severe shocks like currency depreciation, sovereign debt pressures, and sudden interest-rate spikes.
Risk management should evolve from a compliance obligation into a strategic discipline embedded in every lending decision.
Public confidence in the banking system depends heavily on credible financial reporting.
Investors, analysts, and depositors need to be able to understand banks’ true financial positions without navigating non-transparent disclosures or creative accounting practices, which means the industry must be liberated to an extent that gives room for access to information.
Recapitalisation provides an opportunity to strengthen the enforcement of international financial reporting standards, enhance audit quality, and require clearer disclosure of capital adequacy, asset quality, and related-party transactions. Transparency should not be feared. It is the foundation of trust.
One thing that must be corrected is that while recapitalisation often focuses on financial metrics, the banking sector ultimately runs on human capital.
Another fearful aspect of this exercise for the economy is that consolidation and mergers triggered by the reform could lead to workforce disruptions if not carefully managed. Job losses, casualisation, and declining staff morale can weaken institutional culture and productivity. Strong banks are built by strong people.
If recapitalisation strengthens balance sheets while destabilising the workforce that powers the system, the reform risks undermining its own economic objectives. Human capital stability must therefore form part of the broader reform strategy.
Doubtless, another emerging shift in Nigeria’s financial landscape is the rise of digital financial platforms that are increasingly changing how people access and use money in Nigeria.
Millions of Nigerians are increasingly relying on fintech platforms for payments, microloans, and everyday financial transactions. One of the advantages it offers is that these services often deliver faster and more user-friendly experiences than traditional banks. While innovation is welcome, it raises important questions about the future structure of financial intermediation.
The point here is that the moment traditional banks retreat from retail banking while fintech platforms dominate customer interactions, systemic liquidity and regulatory oversight could become fragmented.
The CBN must see to it that the recapitalised banks must therefore invest aggressively in digital infrastructure, cybersecurity, and customer experience, while cutting down costs on all less critical areas in the industry.
Nigerians should feel the benefits of recapitalisation not only in stronger balance sheets but also in faster apps, reliable payment systems, and responsive customer service.
As banks grow larger through recapitalisation and consolidation, a new challenge emerges via systemic concentration.
Nigeria’s largest banks already control a significant share of industry assets. Further consolidation could deepen the divide between dominant institutions and smaller players. This creates the risk of “too-big-to-fail” banks whose collapse could threaten the entire financial system.
To address this risk, regulators must strengthen resolution frameworks that allow distressed banks to fail without triggering systemic panic, their collapse does not damage the whole financial system, and do not require taxpayer-funded bailouts to forestall similar mistakes that occurred with the liquidation of Heritage Bank. Market discipline depends on credible failure mechanisms.
It must be understood that Nigeria’s banking recapitalisation is not merely a financial exercise or, better still, increasing banks’ capital. It is a rare opportunity to rebuild trust, strengthen governance, and reposition the financial system as a true engine of economic development.
One fact is that if the reform focuses only on capital numbers, the country risks repeating a familiar pattern of churning out impressive balance sheets followed by another cycle of crisis.
But the actors in this exercise must ensure that the recapitalisation addresses governance failures, asset quality concerns, risk management weaknesses, and transparency gaps; and the moment this is done, the banking sector could emerge stronger and more resilient.
Nigeria does not simply need bigger banks. It needs better banks, institutions capable of financing innovation, supporting entrepreneurs, and building economic opportunity for millions of citizens.
The true capital of any banking system is not just money. It is trust. And whether this recapitalisation ultimately succeeds will depend on whether Nigerians see that trust reflected not only in financial statements but in the everyday experience of saving, borrowing, and investing in the economy. Only then will bigger banks translate into a stronger nation.
Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos and can be reached via: bl***********@***il.com
By Blaise Udunze
Daily, the world watches Nigeria through a familiar lens in what appears to be a gory situation. Especially in cases when the news headlines tell stories of farmer-herder clashes, bandit attacks, kidnappings, villages reduced to ashes or deserted by the dwellers, as thousands of Nigerians have been displaced across states such as Zamfara, Plateau, Benue, Niger, Kaduna and Nasarawa. Subliminally, this is about to become a similarly ugly occurrence in southwestern Nigeria, which is fast becoming obvious if not nipped in the bud quickly.
Recorded data have shown that bandits, Boko Haram, and others killed over 190,000 Nigerians in 17 years and displaced 3.7 million people.
A human rights organisation, the International Society for Civil Liberties and Rule of Law (Intersociety), in its fearful revelation, has said that no fewer than 190,150 Nigerians have been killed by bandits, Boko Haram insurgents, and suspected armed herdsmen between July 2009 and March 19, 2026, as this calls for concern.
The dominant explanations often point to ethnic tensions, religious divisions, climate change, shrinking grazing routes or weak security institutions. No doubt, those factors are certainly part of Nigeria’s complex security crisis. Yet another question deserves serious examination.
What if, in some locations, the violence is also serving another purpose? What if some of the territories experiencing repeated displacement are the same places sitting atop some of Nigeria’s most valuable mineral deposits? More importantly, if such a pattern exists, who benefits when communities disappear?
Of a truth, these questions are uncomfortable, but undeniably they deserve careful investigation rather than dismissal.
For ages, Nigeria has been naturally endowed, and it is estimated to be rich in enormous significant reserves of gold, lithium, uranium, tin, columbite and other strategic minerals increasingly sought after in the global transition to clean energy technologies. As international demand for battery minerals continues to rise, these resources have become far more valuable than they were only a decade ago.
If one overlays publicly available geological information with maps showing persistent violence, some observers argue that striking geographical overlaps appear in several regions. Such overlaps alone cannot establish causation. Correlation is not proof of conspiracy. However, they raise questions worthy of independent scrutiny.
One issue attracting increasing attention and adequately yearns for answer is whether prolonged insecurity may inadvertently or deliberately create conditions that make mineral extraction easier.
Under Nigeria’s Nigerian Minerals and Mining Act 2007, mineral resources belong to the Federal Government, while mining rights are granted through licences and leases. Community engagement and land access are expected to form part of the licensing process, although implementation varies depending on circumstances. This raises an important policy question.
What happens when the communities expected to participate in those processes have already fled because of violence?
Displacement changes the dynamics of land ownership, consent and access. While no evidence automatically proves that attacks are orchestrated to facilitate mining, the sequence of violence followed by renewed commercial activity in some locations deserves closer examination by regulators, lawmakers and investigative journalists.
In conflict studies, researchers have long observed that wars often generate economic winners alongside humanitarian losers. Could elements of Nigeria’s insecurity also be producing economic beneficiaries?
Reports over the years have documented concerns about illegal mining operations across parts of northern Nigeria. Government agencies themselves have repeatedly acknowledged that criminal networks profit from the country’s vast mineral wealth. The unresolved question is whether isolated criminality has, in some instances, evolved into more sophisticated alliances involving political influence, financial interests and international supply chains. If so, the implications extend far beyond Nigeria.
Invariably, it is clearly known that lithium has become one of the world’s most strategic commodities, powering electric vehicle batteries and renewable energy storage systems. Gold has always remained one of the safest global investment assets during periods of uncertainty. Meanwhile, it is well confirmed that the global appetite for these minerals creates enormous financial incentives.
Suppose violent displacement reduces resistance to extraction. Suppose shell companies subsequently acquire mining interests. Suppose minerals then leave Nigeria through legitimate-looking export documentation while their true value remains understated.
These scenarios remain allegations unless supported by verifiable evidence. Yet they outline a framework that investigators may wish to test rather than ignore. Financial crime experts frequently identify trade mis-invoicing as one of the most common methods of illicit financial flows worldwide.
Could Nigeria’s solid minerals sector be vulnerable to similar practices? If valuable lithium ore is deliberately but inaccurately described as lower-value material on export documents, substantial wealth could potentially leave the country without reflecting its true market value. Likewise, if unrefined gold exits through privileged channels with limited scrutiny, questions naturally arise about oversight, transparency and accountability over criminal activities which have continued to stunt and disrupt the country’s socio-economic growth and at the same time cause carnage.
Such possibilities are not accusations against any particular institution or company. Rather, they illustrate why stronger monitoring systems are increasingly essential. Another question concerns logistics.
With the high level of criminal activities, industrial mining requires heavy machinery, diesel supplies, transportation networks and specialised personnel. These are not operations that can remain invisible indefinitely.
If certain territories are genuinely too dangerous for security agencies, how do industrial-scale extraction activities reportedly continue in some remote locations? If they do, who protects those operations? Who authorises their movement? Who verifies what is extracted? Who ensures royalties and export revenues reach public coffers? These are governance questions that demand institutional answers.
Equally important is the international dimension. Minerals extracted in Nigeria ultimately enter global supply chains. Gold may pass through international refining hubs before entering financial markets. Lithium may become part of battery manufacturing destined for electric vehicles, which are being sold across Europe, North America and Asia.
One known fact is that consumers purchasing products containing these minerals rarely know the full story of where they originated.
Increasingly, however, investors and governments are demanding ethical sourcing standards that trace minerals from extraction to final manufacture.
A critical factor that must be taken into cognisance is that if insecurity is creating opportunities for illegal or unethical extraction anywhere in the world, multinational companies have responsibilities alongside national governments, of which the onus falls on the Nigerian government.
Transparency cannot stop at the mine gate. Nor should accountability end at national borders. Another issue requiring attention concerns beneficial ownership.
Across many jurisdictions, shell companies can obscure the identities of individuals ultimately controlling commercial assets. If politically exposed persons or powerful business interests are hidden behind complex corporate structures registered offshore, identifying beneficiaries becomes significantly more difficult. This challenge is hardly unique to Nigeria.
Findings showed that from Latin America to Central Africa and Southeast Asia, resistant corporate networks have frequently complicated efforts to combat corruption and illicit resource extraction. That is precisely why open corporate registries, beneficial ownership databases and transparent mining licence disclosures are becoming global governance priorities. For Nigeria, the stakes could hardly be higher.
The country stands at the centre of the world’s emerging critical minerals economy. The Nigerian government can’t feign ignorance of the fact that, when handled transparently, these resources could finance infrastructure, education, healthcare, and industrial development for generations.
In no way would the government claim not knowing that when handled poorly, they risk becoming another chapter in the well-documented “resource curse,” where extraordinary natural wealth coincides with persistent poverty, insecurity and institutional weakness.
The ultimate challenge, therefore, is not simply about mining. It is about governance. It is about whether public institutions possess both the independence and capacity to ensure that natural resources benefit citizens rather than narrow interests. It is about whether conflict zones receive genuine peacebuilding efforts instead of becoming forgotten frontiers. And it is about whether international markets demand accountability with the same enthusiasm they demand raw materials.
None of these questions should be answered through speculation. They require rigorous investigations, forensic financial analysis, satellite imagery, mining license audits, customs records, beneficial ownership disclosures and courageous journalism.
They require governments willing to open their books. They require international cooperation capable of tracing money across borders. Most importantly, they require asking questions that have too often remained unasked.
Perhaps Nigeria’s security crisis is exactly what it appears to be: a tragic convergence of historical grievances, weak institutions, criminality and environmental pressures. Or perhaps, in some places, another layer of economic incentive deserves closer scrutiny.
Until those questions are thoroughly investigated, one possibility will continue to linger. Maybe the world’s attention has been fixed on the blood spilt above ground, while too little attention has been paid to the extraordinary wealth lying beneath it.
Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos and can be reached via: bl***********@***il.com
Feature/OPED
What Does Nigeria’s $51bn Reserves Milestone Mean if Most New Foreign Money Can Leave Quickly?
Nigeria’s foreign reserves have climbed to about $51 billion, a decade-plus high, according to the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN). EBC Financial Group (EBC) notes that this reflects stronger investor confidence, but the second half may show whether it holds, as the build rests on three cyclical drivers: oil earnings, short-term foreign money and a narrowing official-to-street naira gap.
Reserves rose from about $32 billion in April 2024, during a dollar shortage, to about $51 billion now, near the CBN’s target. Much came from two cyclical sources, strong oil earnings and money chasing high-yielding naira assets, so EBC expects the pace to slow or reverse. Fitch Ratings, a major international credit rating agency, expects a marginal decline to about $47 billion by the end of 2026, citing higher spending and external pressures.
David Precious, Senior Market Analyst at EBC Financial Group, said, “Nigeria’s reserve build is real but may not be durable yet, because nearly all of the new money is the kind that can leave quickly. Of the $10.37 billion that came in over the first quarter, the overwhelming majority was short-term portfolio funds rather than long-term investment, so a shift in oil prices, global interest rates or confidence in the naira might pull a large part of it straight back out.”
Most New Money Can Still Leave Quickly
The composition of the foreign inflows explains the caution over how long the build can last. The country attracted $10.37 billion in foreign investment in the first quarter of 2026, up 83.83 per cent year-on-year, according to the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS). Of that, $9.86 billion or 95.09 per cent, was portfolio money, largely short-term naira debt such as Treasury bills that investors can sell at the next auction, while foreign direct investment, the long-term kind that builds factories and jobs, was $135.08 million, or 1.30 per cent. Put simply, of each dollar coming in, about 95 cents can leave quickly, and barely one cent stays.
That money supports reserves while it stays. Dollars brought in to buy naira assets add to market supply, letting the CBN hold more reserves and steady the naira. It leaves when conditions change. Nigeria earns most of its export dollars from oil and gas, so lower oil prices mean fewer dollars, and as a member of the Organisation of the Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC), it cannot simply produce more, output capped by quota and reduced by theft and ageing fields. Higher global interest rates draw money toward safer returns abroad, and a weakening naira prompts investors to sell early. When oil fell in 2016 and 2020, foreign investors withdrew and could not convert naira to dollars as supply dried up, leaving the CBN to clear more than $7 billion in trapped obligations into 2024.
The Oil Boost is No Longer Certain
Oil looked like a dependable source of the dollars behind the reserves only months ago. Earlier in 2026, concern over disruption around the Strait of Hormuz lifted crude prices, and stronger receipts flowed in, with crude oil export earnings of $8.11 billion in the first quarter in the CBN’s balance-of-payments data. That support is now easing. The tension has subsided, and Brent traded near $72 on June 29, down about 24 per cent over the month, back to pre-conflict levels. With the price boost gone and output constrained, reserves are more exposed, leaning on non-oil earnings and investor patience rather than oil.
The Naira Still Trades at Two Prices
The naira has traded at two prices, an official rate and a higher parallel-market rate, and closing that gap into one trusted price is what many investors might watch most. Before committing funds, they may want assurance they can convert naira to dollars at a fair rate when they exit, and a wide gap revives the fear of being trapped that lingers from earlier shortages. The gap has narrowed to roughly N20 to N30, with the CBN’s official rate near N1,380 per dollar on June 26 against parallel-market quotes around N1,400. The International Monetary Fund (IMF) 2026 Article IV review urged Nigeria to depend less on this fast-moving portfolio money and to keep phasing out its multiple exchange-rate practices. The CBN’s Foreign Exchange Manual, in force from 1 June, is intended to make the market clearer, though such rules build confidence only once investors can freely trade dollars at the posted rate.
What could Make the Build Durable
A few signs that may show the build turning durable include a smaller gap between the official and street naira rates, more long-term foreign investment, and steadier oil earnings. A gap that stays small, now roughly N20 to N30, may mean investors trust the official rate and no longer need the street market. A clear rise in foreign direct investment, only $135 million last quarter against $9.86 billion of short-term money, might mean lasting capital is replacing funds that can leave at the next auction. Oil earnings that hold up, rather than sliding from the low $70s, should help keep reserves steady, since oil and gas bring in most of Nigeria’s export dollars.
“Reserves built on money chasing high yields can fall as fast as they rose, as they did after the last two oil shocks, when investors left, and the CBN spent years clearing a foreign-exchange backlog,” Precious added. “What holds through a downturn is slower money, direct investment, steady oil and non-oil export earnings and one credible naira rate, and that is the shift Nigeria has yet to make.”
By Olajumoke Bello
Across Nigeria, small and medium enterprises remain the backbone of economic activity. They drive trade, create jobs, and sustain millions of livelihoods. Yet, despite their importance, many SMEs continue to operate below their full potential due to persistent structural challenges.
Access to finance remains one of the most cited constraints. However, the issue today goes beyond the availability of capital. Many businesses struggle with financial readiness, weak documentation, and limited understanding of what lenders require. This often leads to missed opportunities, even when funding options exist.
At the same time, SMEs face gaps in market access and visibility. Business owners operate in highly localised environments, with limited exposure to broader networks that can unlock partnerships, new markets, and growth opportunities. This isolation can constrain scalability and reduce long-term competitiveness.
Equally important is the capability gap. Many entrepreneurs grow through resilience and experience but lack structured knowledge on critical areas such as financial management, export readiness, and digital adoption. Without this, even well-capitalised businesses can struggle to sustain growth.
These challenges point to a clear need for a more practical and integrated approach to SME support. It is no longer sufficient to offer standalone solutions. SMEs require ecosystems that combine knowledge, access, and direct engagement in ways that reflect how they actually operate.
A key shift is the move from centralised interventions to localised engagement. SMEs are deeply influenced by their immediate environments, whether markets, industrial clusters, or trade corridors. Solutions must therefore be brought closer to where these businesses function, allowing for more relevant support and stronger relationships.
Another important shift is from awareness to action. Business owners do not only need information; they need insights that they can apply immediately. This includes understanding how to structure their finances, how to access trade opportunities, and how to connect with the right partners to scale their operations.
There is also a growing need for continuity. Many SME-focused initiatives deliver strong initial impact but lack follow-through. For support to be effective, it must extend beyond one-off engagements into sustained relationships, with clear pathways for onboarding, advisory, and growth.
For financial institutions, this presents both responsibility and an opportunity. Supporting SMEs now requires moving beyond transactional banking to deeper partnership models. It requires understanding businesses at a granular level and co-creating solutions that evolve with their needs.
At Stanbic IBTC, this perspective continues to shape our approach to SME development. Our focus is on delivering practical support that translates into real business outcomes, helping enterprises grow, compete, and contribute more meaningfully to the economy.
As part of this commitment, we are extending our SME engagement to the regions through the Nigeria Business Summit Regional Tour. The tour will take structured, on-ground activations into key commercial hubs, where SMEs can access funding guidance, trade insights, advisory support, and direct engagement with financial experts.
The regional tour will take place across five strategic locations, bringing these solutions closer to business owners in Aba, Onitsha, Ibadan and Kano.
This approach reflects an important principle. When support moves closer to businesses and when solutions are delivered in ways that are practical and continuous, SMEs are better positioned to grow sustainably. In turn, this strengthens not only individual enterprises but the broader economy.
Olajumoke Bello is the Head of Enterprise Banking at Stanbic IBTC Bank
