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REVEALED: How Nigeria’s Energy Crisis is Driven by Debt and Global Forces

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Nigeria’s Energy Crisis

By Blaise Udunze

For months, Nigerians have argued in circles. Aliko Dangote has been blamed by default. They have accused his refinery of monopoly power, of greed, of manipulation. They have pointed out the rising price of petrol and demanded a villain.

When examined closely, the truth is uncomfortable, layered, and deeply geopolitical because the real story is not at the fuel pump, and this is what Nigerians have been missing unknowingly. The truth is that the real story is happening behind closed doors, across continents, inside financial systems most citizens never see, and the actors will prefer that the people are kept in the dark. And once you see it, the outrage shifts. The questions deepen. The implications expand far beyond Nigeria.

In October 2024, it was obvious that the world would have noticed that Nigeria made a move that should have dominated global headlines, but didn’t. Clearly, this was when the government of President Bola Tinubu introduced a quiet but radical policy, which is the Naira-for-Crude. The idea was simple and revolutionary. Nigeria, Africa’s largest oil producer, would allow domestic refineries to purchase crude oil in naira instead of U.S. dollars. On the surface, it looked like economic reform. In reality, it was something far more consequential. It was a challenge to the global financial order.

For decades, oil has been traded almost exclusively in dollars, reinforcing the dominance of the United States in global finance. By attempting to refine its own oil using its own currency, Nigeria was not just making a policy adjustment. It was testing the boundaries of economic sovereignty. And in today’s world, sovereignty, especially when it touches money, debt, and energy, comes with consequences.

What followed was not loud. There were no emergency broadcasts or dramatic policy reversals. Instead, the response was quiet, bureaucratic, and devastatingly effective just to undermine the processes. Nigeria produces over 1.5 million barrels of crude oil per day, though pushing for 3 million by 20230, yet when the Dangote Refinery requested 15 cargoes of crude for September 2024, what it received was only six from the Nigerian National Petroleum Company Ltd (NNPC), which means its yield for a refinery with such capacity will be low if nothing is done. Come to think of it, between January and August 2025, Nigerian refineries collectively requested 123 million barrels of domestic crude but received just 67 million, which by all indications showed a huge gap. It is a contradiction and at the same time, laughable that an oil-producing nation could not supply its own refinery with its own oil.

So, where was the crude going? The answer exposes a deeper, more uncomfortable truth about Nigeria’s economic reality. The crude was being sold on the international market for dollars. Those dollars were then used, almost immediately, to service Nigeria’s growing mountain of external debt. Loans owed to the same institutions, like the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the World Bank, had to be paid, which are the same institutions applauding this government. Nigeria was not prioritising domestic industrialisation; it was prioritising debt repayment.

And the scale of that debt is no longer abstract. Nigeria’s total debt stock is now projected to rise from N155.1 trillion to N200 trillion, following an additional $6 billion loan request by President Tinubu, hurriedly approved by the Senate. At an exchange rate of N1,400 to the dollar, that single loan adds N8.4 trillion to a debt stock that already stood at N146.69 trillion at the end of 2025. This is not just a fiscal statistic. It is the central pressure shaping every major economic decision in the country.

On paper, the government can point to rising revenue, improving foreign exchange inflows, and stronger fiscal discipline as witnessed when the governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria, Olayemi Cardoso, always touted the foreign reserves growth. But a closer review of those numbers reveals a harsher reality. Nigeria is exporting its most valuable resource, converting it into dollars, and sending those dollars straight back out to creditors. The crude leaves. The dollars come in. The dollars leave again. And the cycle repeats.

This is not growth. This is a treadmill powered by debt. Let us not forget that in the middle of that treadmill sits a $20 billion refinery, built to solve Nigeria’s energy dependence, now trapped within the very system it was meant to escape.

By 2025, the contradiction had become impossible to ignore, which is a fact. This is because how can this be explained that the Dangote Refinery, designed to reduce reliance on imports, was increasingly dependent on them. The narrative is that in 2024, Nigeria imported 15 million barrels of crude from America, which is disheartening to mention the least. More troubling is that by 2025, that number surged to 41 million barrels, a 161 per cent increase. By mid-2025, approximately 60 per cent of the refinery’s feedstock was coming from American crude. As of early 2026, Nigerian crude accounted for only about 30 to 35 per cent, which was actually confirmed by Aliko Dangote.

The visible contradiction in this situation is that the refinery built to free Nigeria from dollar dependence was running largely on dollar-denominated imports. Not because the oil did not exist locally, but because the system, shaped by debt obligations and global financial structures, made it more practical to export crude for dollars than to refine it domestically, which leads us to several other covert concerns.

Faced with this troubling reality, there is one major issue that still needs to be answered. This is why Dangote pushed back by filing a N100 billion lawsuit against the NNPC and major oil marketers. He further accused the parties involved of failing to prioritise domestic refining. For a brief moment, one will think that the confrontation, as it appeared, was underway is one that could redefine the balance between state control and private industrial ambition, but these expectations never saw the light of day.

Yes, it never saw the light of day because on July 28, 2025, the lawsuit was quietly withdrawn. No press conferences. No public explanation. No confirmed settlement. Just silence.

There are only a few plausible or credible explanations. As a practice and well-known in the country, institutional pressure may have made continued confrontation untenable. A strategic compromise may have been reached behind closed doors. Or the realities of the system itself may have made victory impossible, regardless of the merits of the case. None of these scenarios suggests a system operating with full autonomy or aligned national interest. All of them point to constraints, political, economic, or structural, that extend far beyond a single company.

Then came the shock that changed everything.

On February 28, 2026, Iran closed the Strait of Hormuz, disrupting a channel through which roughly 20 per cent of the world’s oil supply flows. Prices surged past $100 per barrel. Global markets entered crisis mode. Supply chains are fractured. Countries dependent on Middle Eastern fuel suddenly had nowhere to turn.

And they turned to Nigeria. Nations like South Africa, Ghana, and Kenya began seeking fuel supplies from the Dangote Refinery. The same refinery that had been starved of crude, forced into dollar-denominated imports, and entangled in domestic disputes suddenly became the most strategically important energy asset on the African continent.

Nigeria did not plan for this. It did not negotiate for this. With this development, the world had no choice but to simply run out of options, and Lagos became the fallback.

And then, almost immediately, attention shifted. This swiftly prompted, in early 2026, a United States congressional report to recommend applying pressure on Nigeria’s trade relationships within Africa. Shortly after, on March 16, 2026, the United States launched a Section 301 trade investigation into multiple economies, including Nigeria. This is not a sanction, but it is the legal foundation for one. At the same time, the African Growth and Opportunity Act, which had provided duty-free access to U.S. markets for decades, was allowed to expire in 2025 without renewal.

The sequence is difficult to ignore. As Nigeria’s strategic importance rose, so did external scrutiny. As its potential for regional energy leadership increased, so did the instruments of economic pressure.

To understand why, you must look at the system itself. The global economy runs on the U.S. dollar, which the Iranian government tried to scuttle by implementing a policy that requires oil cargo tankers being transported via the Strait of Hormuz to be paid in Yuan. Most countries need dollars to trade, to import essential goods, and to access global markets. The infrastructure that enforces this is the SWIFT financial network, which connects banks across the world. Control over this system confers enormous power. Countries that step too far outside it risk exclusion, and exclusion, in modern terms, means economic paralysis.

Nigeria’s attempt to trade crude in naira was not just a policy experiment. It was a subtle deviation from a system that rewards compliance and punishes independence. The response was not military. It did not need to be. It was structural. Limit domestic supply. Reinforce dollar dependence. Ensure that even attempts at independence remain tethered to the existing order.

And all the while, the debt clock continues to tick. N155.1 trillion.

That number is not just a fiscal burden. It is leverage. It shapes policy. It influences decisions, and it also determines priorities, which tells you that when a nation is deeply indebted, its room to manoeuvre shrinks. In all of this, one thing that must be understood is that choices that might favour long-term sovereignty are often sacrificed for short-term stability. Debt does not just demand repayment. It demands alignment.

Back home, Nigerians remain focused on the most visible symptom, which is fuel prices. Unbeknownst to most Nigerians, they argue, protest, and assign blame while the forces shaping those prices include global currency systems, sovereign debt obligations, trade pressures, and geopolitical realignments. The price at the pump is not the cause. It is the consequence.

Nigeria now stands at an intersection defined not by scarcity, but by contradiction. What is more alarming is that it produces vast amounts of crude oil, yet struggles to supply its own refinery. It earns more in dollar terms, yet its citizens feel poorer. It builds infrastructure meant to ensure independence, yet operates within constraints that reinforce dependence. This is not a failure of resources, and this is because there is a conflict or tension between what Nigeria wants, which reflects its ambition and structure, and between sovereignty and obligation.

And so the questions remain, growing louder with each passing month and might force Nigerians, when pushed to the wall, to begin demanding answers. If Nigeria has the oil, why is it importing crude? Further to this dismay, more questions arise, such as, why is the refinery paying in dollars if Naira-for-crude exists? One will also be forced to ask if the lawsuit had merit, why was it withdrawn without explanation? If revenues are rising, why is hardship deepening? And if Nigeria is merely a developing economy with limited influence, why is it attracting this level of global attention?

These are not abstract questions. They are the pressure points of a system that extends far beyond Nigeria’s borders.

Because this story is no longer just about one country. The reality is that, perhaps unbeknownst to many, it is about the future of African economic independence. It is about the structure of global energy markets, the dominance of the dollar and the role of debt in shaping national destiny. Honestly, the question that comes to bear is that if Nigeria, with all its resources and scale, cannot fully align its production with its domestic needs, what does that imply for the rest of the continent?

The next time the conversation turns to petrol prices, something must shift. Because the number on the pump is not where this battle is being fought. It is being fought in allocation decisions, in debt negotiations, in regulatory frameworks, in international financial systems, and in quiet policy moves that rarely make headlines.

The Dangote Refinery is not just an industrial project. It is a test case. A test of whether a nation can truly control its own resources in a world where power is rarely exercised loudly, but always effectively. And right now, that test is still unfolding.

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

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3 Infrastructure Gaps Nigerian Lenders Can’t Afford to Ignore

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Winston Osuchukwu

By Winston Osuchukwu

Digital transformation has modernised the front end of the credit process in Nigeria, streamlining customer journeys and shortening the path from application to disbursement. However, this progress has not reached the core of the credit process. While digital application flows are now standard, the underlying risk infrastructure remains underdeveloped. Following the withdrawal of the Central Bank of Nigeria’s forbearance measures, the sector’s non-performing loan (NPL) ratio climbed to 8.03% – well above the 5% regulatory limit.

The deeper, structural flaw is that banks still run on legacy risk models and backwards-looking data: an approach that leaves existing portfolios exposed while shutting out the vast retail market. To scale retail and SME credit safely, forward-looking institutions must close three critical gaps in their core credit infrastructure.

1. The Bureau and Data Blind Spot

Many institutions rely on a fragmented view of borrower risk. Internal transaction data offers a deep but narrow view of a borrower’s behaviour within one institution, while periodic credit bureau reports provide a broad but shallow, “negative-only” history across other lenders. Because credit bureau coverage in Nigeria remains relatively low and data sharing is often inconsistent, neither source effectively captures how a borrower actually earns, spends, and repays. Resolving this requires unifying the data architecture, integrating internal behavioural signals with diverse external streams such as payroll, utility, and alternative financial data, to build a continuous, real-time picture of cash flow and true repayment capacity.

2. Static Risk Acceptance Criteria

To assess a borrower’s credit eligibility, banks apply internal risk acceptance criteria that are often static. In a volatile macroeconomic environment marked by shifting interest rates and inflation, a borrower’s financial reality changes rapidly, rendering these rigid, point-in-time benchmarks obsolete. Furthermore, out of caution, these inflexible thresholds often default to conservative rejections for unfamiliar applicants, such as new salaried employees or thin-file borrowers – those with little or no formal credit history for a bureau or bank to draw on – leaving profitable loans on the table. Transitioning to a predictive model changes risk management into a continuous, data-driven cycle. By ingesting high-frequency behavioural data, risk systems can dynamically govern their acceptance criteria in real-time, allowing them to adjust parameters, optimise pricing, and deploy interventions well before a default occurs.

3. The Collections Disconnect

In many institutions, collections teams operate in silos downstream of the credit department, meaning critical recovery performance data rarely gets fed back to front-end risk models. Consequently, underwriting systems fail to learn from actual repayment behaviours – repeating the same structural pricing mistakes. Integrating these functions via a direct data pipeline creates a self-learning loop, routing recovery outcomes back into the origination engine. This empowers the risk engine to dynamically update models, continuously refining underwriting criteria based on real-world results to prevent future defaults and capture lost basis points.

The Bottom Line

Closing these gaps requires intentionality: moving away from ‘set-and-forget’ tools to systems that actively manage risk. It means moving beyond fragmented data toward an integrated intelligence layer that learns from borrower behaviour to govern automated decisions with precision. The lenders that lead over the next year will be those that treat credit not as an isolated transaction, but as a continuous, dynamic process. At Mathesis, we have spent years building the engine that makes this possible, powering over eight million loans for two million Nigerians. The future of credit belongs to those who adopt this predictive approach – and we have the proven tools and expertise to help you get there.

Winston Osuchukwu is the Founder and Chief Executive of Mathesis, a Nigerian credit intelligence company

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Nigeria’s Power Reform Faces Delivery Test as Band A Credits, Net Billing Take Effect

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prepaid electricity meter

EBC Financial Group (EBC) notes that Nigeria’s electricity reform is entering a phase where higher tariffs, customer credits and new rules on renewable self-generation will be judged by whether businesses actually receive reliable power and can reduce diesel backup costs. Under the Nigerian Electricity Regulatory Commission (NERC) Service-Based Tariff (SBT) system, a tariff model that links electricity prices to expected supply levels, Band A customers pay premium electricity tariffs in exchange for an expected minimum supply of 20 hours per day. NERC’s latest compensation order sends a clear signal: if customers are paying a premium rate, they should receive the supply level they are paying for, and if they do not, they should be credited.

Why Power Reliability is Now a Business-Cost Story

Nigeria’s power supply gap remains a direct cost for businesses. NERC’s April 2026 Operational Performance Factsheet showed that grid-connected power plants had a Plant Availability Factor (PAF) of 31 per cent, with an average of 4,286 megawatts (MW) available for dispatch out of 13,625MW of installed capacity. When available grid power falls short of business needs, companies often have to keep backup generators running, adding fuel, maintenance and planning costs to production.

The Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) Business Expectations Survey for March 2026 identified insufficient power supply with an index reading of 74.5 as a leading business constraint, ahead of insecurity, high or multiple taxes, high interest rates and financial problems. The index ranks the severity of reported business constraints, with higher readings indicating a more pressing concern for firms.

Band A Compensation Tests Tariff Credibility

NERC’s compensation directive does more than reimburse customers for missed supply hours. It sets a precedent that premium tariff bands carry enforceable service obligations. NERC issued Directive No. NERC/2026/002 on the Special Compensation of Band A Customers Arising from Grid Generation Constraints, covering eligible Band A customers affected by power shortfalls between February and March 2026.

Under the framework, smaller electricity users, classified as Non-Maximum Demand (Non-MD) customers, are to receive a credit equal to 20 per cent of the approved February 2026 energy cap for the affected feeder, meaning the electricity line serving those customers. Larger commercial and industrial users, classified as Maximum Demand (MD) customers, are to receive 20 per cent of the average energy billed per MD customer in February 2026. Prepaid customers are to receive token credits, while postpaid customers are to receive bill adjustments, with February compensation due by 31 May 2026 and March compensation due by 30 June 2026. NERC also directed Distribution Companies (DisCos), the companies that deliver electricity to end-users, not to offset compensation credits against existing customer debts.

The cost of unreliable power does not stay inside the electricity bill. When a factory, supermarket, estate, logistics operator or cold-storage facility pays a premium tariff but still runs diesel backup, those costs move into production, inventory protection, food storage, transport pricing and consumer prices. Customer credits help, but the wider sector still has to manage generation limits, revenue collection and payments across the supply chain.

David Precious, Senior Market Analyst at EBC Financial Group, said, “Nigeria’s power reform is moving into an accountability phase. Higher tariffs can only build confidence if customers and businesses receive the level of supply they are paying for. NERC’s Band A compensation order and the rollout of net billing point to the same market test: electricity reform must now be measured by delivery, transparent credit mechanisms and whether businesses can reduce diesel backup costs.”

Net Billing Turns Self-Generation into a Business-Cost Question

Beyond customer credits, NERC’s Net Billing Regulations 2026, published on 3 June 2026, open a separate question for businesses already spending heavily on diesel and backup power: whether renewable self-generation can become a more reliable and cost-effective alternative. The regulation creates a framework for eligible customers to generate renewable electricity, use what they need and export any surplus power to distribution networks.

Many Nigerian businesses already invest in generators, diesel storage, solar systems or hybrid power because grid supply is not reliable enough for production, refrigeration, logistics, retail operations and business continuity. Net billing could make that investment more efficient by allowing eligible users to recover some value from excess renewable power rather than leaving it unused.

The framework is not designed as an instant solution for every household. Qualifying solar or renewable systems must have installed capacity between 50 kilowatt peak (kWp) and 1.5 megawatt peak (MWp), making it more immediately relevant to commercial users, estates, shopping centres, manufacturers, institutions and larger facilities with enough electricity demand and capital to invest. Participants will also need approval from their local distribution company, a technical feasibility review, a Net Billing Agreement and NERC registration. Qualifying systems will require meters that record both electricity consumed and electricity exported.

Whether net billing delivers real savings will come down to implementation. Exported electricity will be credited at an export tariff approved by NERC, which will not necessarily match the price businesses pay for retail electricity purchases. The specific rate and how payments will be settled are still to be confirmed by NERC and DisCos. That export tariff, together with metering, approval timelines and settlement reliability, will determine whether net billing reduces actual costs or remains a regulation that has not yet translated into commercial value.

New Minister Adds an Implementation Test

The appointment of a new Minister of Power adds a wider delivery test to both reforms. President Bola Ahmed Tinubu swore in Joseph Olasunkanmi Tegbe as Minister of Power on 8 June 2026, after the Senate cleared his appointment on 6 May 2026, according to the State House. For businesses and investors, the question is not only whether Nigeria has new rules, but whether the sector can implement them consistently. That means Band A credits must be applied on time, net billing approvals must be workable in practice, export tariffs must be transparent and distribution companies must collect enough revenue to keep paying generators and transmission companies.

What Nigeria’s Electricity Market Will Watch Next

The next phase of Nigeria’s electricity reform may be judged by whether existing rules work in practice, not by new announcements. By 30 June 2026, the March Band A compensation deadline will show whether premium-tariff customers receive visible credits when supply falls short. Net billing faces the same practical test: whether approvals, meters, export tariffs and settlement processes can turn renewable self-generation into a real cost-saving option for eligible businesses. At the same time, both reforms raise the operating bar for DisCos. They must credit customers when service falls short, collect revenue efficiently and keep payments moving to generators and transmission companies. Higher electricity prices may improve sector revenue, but they will not be enough if businesses still have to pay twice: once for premium grid supply and again for diesel backup.

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America Borrows Power, Nigeria Borrows Survival

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America Nigeria borrowing

By Blaise Udunze

Findings show that the United States owes more than $36 trillion while Nigeria owes over N159.28 trillion, with external debt now standing at approximately $51.8 billion. At first glance, when comparing the debt profiles of the world’s largest economy and Africa’s largest economy, it may seem misplaced. America can borrow almost indefinitely because it issues the world’s reserve currency. Nigeria cannot. Yet both countries are confronting a similar worry. This has led to asking, when does debt cease to be a tool for development and become a permanent feature of national survival?

The difference is that while America may be testing the limits of how much debt a superpower can carry, Nigeria is testing how much debt a fragile developing economy can sustain before it begins to mortgage its future.

The latest proposal by the federal government to secure another $1.25 billion World Bank facility under the Nigeria Actions for Investment and Jobs Acceleration Programme has once again reignited a debate that refuses to disappear. What appears to be far from the daily lived experience of Nigerians over the years is having government officials insisting that the loan will support investment, expand access to finance, improve electricity, enhance digital services, and create jobs. According to the claims, these are worthy objectives. But Nigerians have heard similar promises before.

The more important question is no longer whether Nigeria should borrow. Virtually every modern economy borrows. The real question which calls for critical concern is what exactly Nigeria is borrowing for, and why the benefits of decades of borrowing remain largely invisible in the everyday lives of millions of citizens. This is where the national conversation becomes uncomfortable.

Funny enough, over the years, successive governments have justified borrowing as a necessary response to development deficits. Yet despite rising debt levels, many Nigerians struggle to identify corresponding improvements in their lived experiences. This justification has kept many wondering as the roads remain dilapidated, public hospitals are overwhelmed, and the electricity supply also remains unreliable. Talk of the public education system, this has continued to deteriorate badly, and unemployment remains stubbornly high. Inflation has eroded incomes, with the cost of cooking gas hitting N2,400 per kg, while businesses struggle under the weight of high operating costs.

If borrowing is supposed to finance development, where is the development? The concern becomes even more urgent and highly alarming when viewed against the backdrop of Nigeria’s worsening fiscal position. According to the Debt Management Office, public debt has climbed to over N159 trillion. With this outrageous figure, more troubling is the fact that debt servicing now consumes an alarming share of government revenue, which has continued to cripple economic growth and compromise the future. This development caught the attention of the Nigerian Economic Summit Group, as it recently noted that Nigeria’s debt-service-to-revenue ratio remains among the highest in the world. In simple and practical terms, this implies that the government is spending an increasingly large portion of what it earns paying creditors rather than investing in infrastructure, healthcare, education, security, or economic expansion.

This is the hallmark of a debt trap. The danger is not necessarily that Nigeria will default tomorrow. The danger is that the nation becomes trapped in a vicious cycle where governments borrow to finance deficits, then borrow again to service existing obligations, and then borrow even more to cover the consequences of previous borrowing. That cycle is already becoming visible.

Come to think of it, President Bola Tinubu’s administration has boldly defended borrowing as necessary to support reforms, cushion economic shocks, and stimulate growth. Yet critics have continued to point to the fact that since May 2023, borrowing has accelerated significantly.

According to economic analyst Dele Oye, the current administration has added approximately N65.9 trillion to Nigeria’s debt stock within just two years, a figure that exceeds several multiples of what Nigeria accumulated during its first five decades after independence.

Whether one agrees with the politics surrounding that claim is secondary. The underlying concern remains valid since debt is growing far faster than the visible capacity of the economy to generate sustainable revenue. This is why comparisons with the United States are useful.

America’s debt is enormous, but debt sustainability is not determined by the size of debt alone. It is determined by economic productivity. The United States supports its debt burden through a diversified economy, deep capital markets, technological innovation, globally competitive corporations, advanced research institutions, and an unmatched ability to attract global investment.

Debt is not what sustains America. Productivity does. Unlike Nigeria, it continues to rely heavily on crude oil revenues, a narrow tax base, volatile foreign exchange earnings, and a fragile manufacturing sector. The critical difference is that every dollar borrowed by Nigeria therefore carries greater risks than every dollar borrowed by the United States.

When America borrows, it borrows largely in its own currency. When Nigeria borrows externally, it exposes itself to exchange-rate risks that can dramatically increase repayment costs whenever the naira weakens, as this calls for utmost caution. Every currency depreciation effectively inflates the burden of external obligations. What appears manageable today can become overwhelming tomorrow. This reality makes Nigeria’s current debt trajectory particularly concerning, which is the truth.

The World Bank itself has raised concerns about governance risks and structural weaknesses within Nigeria’s fiscal architecture. Even more troubling are recent revelations indicating that more than N34.5 trillion was reportedly deducted through pre-distribution mechanisms before revenues reached the Federation Account between 2023 and 2025. According to the findings, approximately 41 per cent of government revenues were removed as first-line charges before distribution.

Whichever way it is viewed, perhaps as fiscal leakages, weak oversight, or institutional inefficiency, the implications are profound and of critical concern. If we must begin to tell ourselves the factual truth, a nation cannot continue borrowing aggressively while simultaneously failing to maximise the value of revenues it already generates.

This brings us to the central question confronting Nigeria today. The point is, are these loans building future productive capacity, or are they merely financing continuity?

Borrowing can be justified when it funds projects that expand economic output. Investments in power generation, transport infrastructure, agriculture, industrialisation, technology, and education can create long-term growth that eventually pays for the debt itself. In such cases, debt becomes a bridge to prosperity.

But it must be known that borrowing to fund recurrent expenditure, sustain bloated government structures, finance consumption, cover inefficiencies, or service previous debts transforms borrowing into a treadmill. The irony here is that the country runs harder every year but remains trapped in the same place. Unfortunately, much of Nigeria’s fiscal reality increasingly resembles the latter.

The tragedy is that this debt burden is not abstract. It is already affecting ordinary Nigerians. The adverse implication and critical point are that every naira directed toward debt servicing is a naira unavailable for schools, hospitals, security, electricity, or social protection. Every external loan increases future repayment obligations. Every missed opportunity to invest borrowed funds productively transfers today’s policy failures to future generations.

The consequences are visible everywhere. Businesses face prohibitively high borrowing costs. Today in Nigeria, it is no longer news that manufacturers struggle with energy expenses, which adversely affect the citizens. The same applies to youth unemployment, which remains widespread. Also, infrastructure deficits persist. Another critical issue is that states remain heavily dependent on monthly allocations from the federal level. With the developments, economic growth remains too weak to significantly improve living standards.

The result is a contradiction in which debt rises while prosperity stagnates. This is perhaps the greatest lesson Nigeria must learn from America’s debt experience.

The debate should not focus exclusively on how much debt a nation carries. The more important progressive question is whether the economy is productive enough to sustain that debt.

What every Nigerian should know is that Nigeria as a country cannot borrow its way to prosperity because it must first strengthen the foundations that generate sustainable growth. With the lingering challenging surrounding the borrowing and the mountain of debts, one key fact is that it cannot rely indefinitely on external creditors while neglecting domestic productivity. Also, it cannot continue to depend on oil revenues while failing to broaden its tax base. Another loose end that has been a critical matter is that it cannot expect debt-financed development without strong institutions, transparency, accountability and effective project execution.

The solutions are neither mysterious nor impossible. This entails that Nigeria must aggressively expand domestic revenue mobilisation without suffocating businesses and ensure it digitises tax administration, eliminates leakages, enforce fiscal responsibility laws. Also, it must reduce the cost of governance, strengthen public procurement systems, while ensuring that every borrowed naira and kobo is linked to measurable economic outcomes.

Equally important, the government must rebuild public trust. The truth is that citizens are more willing to support reforms when they can see tangible results. Some of the developments in the past that have continued to erode public trust are when subsidy savings are announced, people expect better roads, improved healthcare, reliable electricity, and enhanced security. When new loans are obtained, they expect visible projects and measurable returns, but the reverse has been the case. Those at the helm of affairs of this country must understand that transparency is not merely good governance; it is an economic necessity. History offers a warning.

In 2006, under the leadership of Olusegun Obasanjo, Nigeria celebrated its exit from the Paris Club debt burden after securing one of Africa’s most significant debt relief achievements. Not too long but for a brief period, the country stood relatively free from the crushing obligations that had constrained development for decades. Two decades later, that achievement appears increasingly distant.

The danger is not simply that Nigeria is borrowing. The danger is that borrowing is becoming normalised as a substitute for difficult reforms.

A nation can borrow to build industries or borrow to pay bills. It can borrow to create future wealth or borrow to postpone present challenges. One path expands prosperity; the other compounds dependency.

America’s debt mountain demonstrates that even wealthy nations are not immune to the consequences of structural borrowing. Nigeria’s debt burden demonstrates how much more dangerous that reality becomes when economic productivity fails to keep pace. Borrowing can buy time. It cannot buy prosperity.

Sooner or later, every nation must generate the economic value necessary to justify the debts it accumulates. Nigeria’s future will depend not on how much it can borrow, but on how effectively it can produce, innovate, industrialise, and grow.

That is the lesson hidden underneath America’s debt mountain. It is also the lesson Nigeria ignores at its own peril.

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

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