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Sacred Journeys, Earthly Burdens: The Cost of Nigeria’s Pilgrimage Economy

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Nigeria’s Pilgrimage Economy

By Prince Charles Dickson PhD

The desert does not care for your prayers. It swallows them whole, along with your sweat, doubts, and wallet weight. Yet here we were—Nigerians in Jordan, then Israel, tracing paths carved by prophets and kings, stepping on stones smoothed by millennia of footsteps. From the Dead Sea’s buoyant bitterness to Bethlehem’s star-marked grottoes, the land thrums with sacred electricity. But as she walked, she couldn’t shake the question: What does this cost us? Not just in naira, but in soul.

You remember the chaos—Abuja’s airport buzzing with first-time pilgrims clutching rosaries and Qurans, tour guides shouting over the din, warnings about “japa temptations” mingling with sermons. For many, this was a once-in-a-lifetime escape: from potholed streets, blackouts, and the gnawing uncertainty of survival back home. Yet even here, in the shadow of Herod’s stones and Galilee’s shores, Nigeria followed us. The tour operators in Jordan haggled like Lagos market women; Israeli border guards scrutinized our green passports with weary suspicion. And beneath it all, the Gaza war hummed like a discordant hymn, a reminder that holiness and human conflict are ancient bedfellows.

Let’s talk numbers; if a single pilgrimage package costs roughly N3.5 to N5 million per person, multiply that by thousands of pilgrims annually, and Nigeria bleeds billions into foreign economies.

In Jordan, our guides grinned as they narrated Petra’s history, their pockets fattened by dollars. In Israel, the pilgrimage industry is a well-oiled machine: hotels near Nazareth charge premium rates, Dead Sea mud is packaged and sold as divine therapy, and even the Via Dolorosa has a gift shop. Meanwhile, back home, nurses strike over unpaid wages and students scratch equations into dust-choked chalkboards.

The Catholic Bishops’ recent call cuts like a knife: “Stop funding pilgrimages. Let faith pay its way.” Their logic is mercilessly practical: why should a nation drowning in debt—where 63% of citizens survive on less than $2 a day—subsidize spiritual tourism for a privileged few? The National Hajj Commission (NAHCON) and Christian Pilgrims’ Board, riddled with corruption scandals, stand as monuments to mismanagement.

Remember the 2017 scandal where officials embezzled ₦90 million meant for pilgrims’ visas? Or the 2022 Hajj airlift fiasco that stranded thousands? These boards, the bishops argue, “serve neither their adherents nor the nation.”

Yet, the allure persists. For many pilgrims, government sponsorship isn’t just a subsidy—it’s a lifeline. “I saved for ten years,” a retired teacher from Enugu told me, her eyes glistening at the Jordan River. “Without the board’s help, I’d never see Jerusalem.” Herein lies the paradox: pilgrimage is both a spiritual awakening and a symptom of systemic failure. When the state funds faith, it commodifies it—and when it withdraws, it risks severing the vulnerable from their solace.

Ah, the pilgrims themselves! Nigerians are nothing if not theatrical. There were the “Captains”—self-appointed prayer warriors who bossed others around like generals in God’s army. The Comedians, crack jokes at Caiaphas’ dungeon to ease the tension. The Holier-Than-Thous, who tsk-tsked at women’s uncovered hair while surreptitiously snapping selfies at Golgotha and the quiet ones, like the widow from Sokoto who touched the Western Wall and wept without sound.

But spirituality here is tangled with spectacle. At the Dead Sea, I watched a pastor bottle the salty water, declaring it “a weapon against household witches.” In Bethlehem, traders hawked olive-wood crosses next to “I Error! Filename not specified. Jesus” t-shirts. Is this awakening? Or is it the monetization of longing?

The bishops’ critique is not just fiscal—it’s theological. “True faith,” their statement insists, “is not measured in miles travelled but in mercy shown.” They urge a reckoning: if Nigeria redirected pilgrimage funds to healthcare, education, or infrastructure, could that itself be a sacred act? Imagine N30 billion—the approximate annual cost of state-sponsored pilgrimages—channeled into neonatal clinics or rural electrification. Would that not honor the “least of these” whom Christ called us to serve?

But the counterargument simmers: pilgrimages foster unity, they say. On that flight to Tel Aviv, I saw Muslims and Christians swap snacks and stories. A Hausa imam helped a Yoruba grandmother fasten her seatbelt. For a moment, Nigeria felt possible again. Yet this fragile camaraderie exists in a bubble—one paid for by a state that can’t fix its roads.

You asked me, “Can’t we have both—pilgrimages and progress?”* Perhaps. But not under this broken model. Here’s the radical alternative:

Decouple State and Sanctuary: Let religious groups self-organize pilgrimages, as the bishops propose. If a church or mosque can rally its flock to fund journeys, so be it—but without dipping into public coffers.

Audit the Sacred: Demand transparency from pilgrimage boards. Publish budgets, punish graft, and let pilgrims know exactly where their money goes.

Reinvest in the Here and Now: Redirect saved funds to tangible ministries—hospitals, schools, food banks—that embody “love thy neighbour” more vividly than any tour group.

On our last night in Jerusalem, I sat with a group under the stars. Nima from Plateau said quietly, “I came to feel closer to God. But I felt Him more when that waiter in Amman refilled my water…”. I urged her to tell the story—

It was the unlikeliest of sanctuaries—a crowded restaurant, humming with the chaos of clattering plates and overlapping voices. Amid the rush, a young waiter moved with a grace that transcended duty. His smile was not merely professional; it was an offering. In a world where transactions often eclipse connection, he chose to see me. I asked for three small things: hot water to refill my flask, a bowl of midnight-dark yogurt, and sugar to sweeten it—simple requests, yet specific, requiring attention in a sea of demands. He could have sighed, rolled his eyes, or deferred to the crowd. Instead, he leaned in.

His “of course” was a quiet rebellion against indifference.

The steaming flask returned, cradled like something sacred. The yogurt arrived, its darkness cradled in a bowl that gleamed like polished obsidian. The sugar, poured with care, became more than a condiment—it was a covenant.

At that moment, the noise faded. Here was a stranger who had every reason to rush, yet chose to pause. Here was proof that kindness is not a grand gesture reserved for saints, but a series of deliberate, ordinary acts: I will listen. I will try. You matter.

How much lighter the weight of our differences would be if we all carried this truth: that every interaction is a crossroads. We can choose to armour ourselves in a hurry, or we can meet one another as this young man did—with eyes that recognize a shared humanity. The systems we’ve built—borders, hierarchies, ideologies—are illusions compared to the raw, aching need we all harbor: to be treated gently, to be acknowledged.

As I stirred the sugar into the yogurt, dissolving bitterness into sweetness, I thought of all the ways we hunger. For warmth. For dignity. For the courage to ask for what we need, and the grace to honor those who ask. The world will not slow down. But in its frenzy, we can be oases for one another—pouring hot water into empty vessels, handing over sugar like a promise.

This is how we mend the fractures: not with grand declarations, but with the daily sacrament of paying attention. The waiter’s name is lost to me now, but his lesson lingers: in a universe that often feels cold and vast, we hold the power to make it intimate, one act of deliberate kindness at a time.

What if we all moved through life as he did—not merely serving, but seeing?

There it is—the heart of the matter. Spirituality isn’t stamped in a passport; it’s woven into daily acts of attention, kindness, and justice. Nigeria’s pilgrimage industry, for all its grandeur, risks reducing faith to a transactional spectacle. The bishops aren’t arguing against devotion—they’re pleading for a redefinition of what’s holy.

The desert still whispers. But maybe the miracle we need isn’t in Jordan’s rivers or Jerusalem’s tombs. Maybe it’s in the courage to stay home—to build a nation where the sacred isn’t a luxury, but a lived reality. May Nigeria win!

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When Stability Matters: Gauging Gusau’s Quiet Wins for Nigerian Football

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NFF President Ibrahim Musa Gusau

By Barr. Adefila Kamal

Football in Nigeria has never been just a sport. It is emotion, argument, nationalism, and sometimes heartbreak wrapped into ninety minutes. That passion is a gift, but it often comes with a tendency to shout down progress before it has the chance to grow. In the middle of this noise sits the Nigeria Football Federation under the leadership of Ibrahim Musa Gusau, a man who has chosen steady hands over loud speeches, structure over drama, and long-term rebuilding over chasing instant applause.

When Gusau took office in 2022, he understood one thing clearly: the only way to fix Nigerian football is to repair its foundations. He said it openly during the 2025 NNL monthly awards ceremony — you cannot build an edifice from the rooftop. And true to that conviction, his tenure has taken shape quietly through structural investments that don’t trend on social media but matter where the future of the game is built. The construction of a players’ hostel and modern training pitches at the Moshood Abiola Stadium is one of the clearest signs of this shift. Nigeria has gone decades without basic infrastructure for its national teams, especially youth and age-grade squads. Gusau’s administration broke that pattern by delivering the first dedicated national-team hostel in our history, a project that signals an understanding that success is not luck — it is preparation.

The same thread runs through grassroots football. The maiden edition of the FCT FA Women’s Inter-Area Councils Football Tournament emerged under this administration, giving young female players a structured platform instead of the token attention they usually receive. These initiatives are not flashy. They do not dominate headlines. But they form the bedrock of any footballing nation that wants to be taken seriously.

Gusau’s leadership has also focused on lifting the domestic leagues out of years of decline. The NFF has revamped professional and semi-professional competitions, working to create consistent scheduling, fair officiating, and marketable competition structures. The growing number of global broadcasting partnerships — something unheard of in the old NPFL era — has brought more eyes, more credibility and more opportunities for clubs and players. Monthly awards for players, coaches and referees have introduced a culture of performance and merit, something our domestic game has needed for years. These are reforms that reshape the culture of football far beyond one season.

Internationally, Nigeria regained a powerful seat at the table when Gusau was elected President of the West African Football Union (WAFU B). This is not a ceremonial achievement. In football politics, influence determines opportunities, hosting rights, development grants, international appointments and the respect with which nations are treated. For too long, Nigeria’s voice in the region was inconsistent. Gusau’s emergence changes that, and it places Nigeria in a position where its administrative competence cannot be dismissed.

His administration has also made it clear that women’s football, youth development and academy systems are no longer side projects. There is a renewed intention to repair the broken pathways that once produced global stars with almost predictable frequency. If Nigeria is going to remain a powerhouse, development must become a machine, not an afterthought.

Still, for many observers, none of this seems to matter because the yardstick is always a single match, a single tournament or a single disappointing moment. Public criticism often grows louder than the facts. Fans want instant results, and when they don’t come, the instinct is to blame whoever is in office at the moment. But this approach has repeatedly sabotaged Nigerian football. Constant leadership changes wipe out institutional memory and scatter reform efforts before they mature. No nation becomes great by resetting its football house every time tempers flare.

Gusau’s leadership is unfolding at a time when FIFA and CAF are tightening their expectations for professionalism, financial transparency and infrastructure. Nigeria cannot afford scandals, disarray or combative politics. We need the kind of administrative consistency that global football bodies can trust — and this is exactly the lane Gusau has chosen. He has not been perfect; no administrator is. But he has been consistent, measured and focused. In an ecosystem that often rewards noise, this is rare.

For progress to hold, Nigeria must shift from the culture of outrage to a culture of constructive contribution. The media, civil society, ex-players, club owners, fan groups — everyone has a role. The truth is that Nigerian football’s biggest enemy has never been the NFF president, whoever he might be at the time. The real enemies are impatience, instability and emotional decision-making. They derail strategy. They kill reforms. They weaken institutions. And they turn football — our greatest cultural asset — into a battlefield of blame.

Gusau’s effort to reposition the NFF is a reminder that real development is rarely glamorous. It is slow, disciplined and often misunderstood. But it is the only route that leads to the future we claim to want: a football system built on structure, modern governance, infrastructure, youth development and global influence. Nigeria will flourish when we start protecting our institutions instead of tearing them down after every misstep.

If we truly want Nigerian football to rise, we must recognise genuine work when we see it. We must support continuity when it is clearly producing a roadmap. And we must resist the temptation to substitute outrage for analysis. Ibrahim Musa Gusau’s tenure is not defined by noise. It is defined by groundwork — the kind that elevates nations long after the shouting stops.

Barr. Adefila Kamal is a legal practitioner and development specialist. He serves as the National President of the Civil Society Network for Good Governance (CSNGG), with a long-standing commitment to transparency, institutional reform and sports governance in Nigeria

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Unlocking Capital for Infrastructure: The Case for Project Bonds in Nigeria

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Taiwo Olatunji Project Bonds in Nigeria

By Taiwo Olatunji, CFA

Nigeria’s infrastructure ambition is not constrained by vision, but by the financing architecture. The public sector balance sheet, which has been the primary source of financing, has become very tight, while financing from the private sector is available and increasing, with a focus on long-term, naira-denominated assets. Hence, the challenge lies in effectively connecting this capital to bankable projects at scale and with discipline. Project bonds, created, structured and distributed by investment banks, are the instruments required to bridge the country’s infrastructure needs.

The scale of the need is clear. Nigeria’s Revised NIIMP (2020–2043) estimates ~US$2.3 trillion, about US$100bn, a year is required annually for the next 30 years to lift infrastructure to 70% of GDP. Africa’s pensions, insurers and sovereign funds already hold over US$1.1 trillion that can be mobilised for this purpose, but they require new and innovative approaches to enhance their participation in addressing this challenge.

What is broken with the status quo?

Nigeria continues to finance inherently long-dated assets through the issuance of local currency public bonds, Sukuk and Eurobonds. This approach creates a heavy burden on the government’s balance sheet while sometimes causing refinancing risk and FX exposures, where naira cash flows service dollar liabilities. It has also led to the slow conversion of the pipeline of identified projects because many infrastructure projects have not been prepared, appraised and structured to attract the private sector.

Why project bonds and where they sit in the stack

Project bonds are debt securities issued by project SPVs and serviced from project cash flows, typically secured by concessions, offtake agreements, or availability payments. Unlike typical bonds (corporate or government), which are backed by the sponsor’s balance sheets, project bonds are backed by the cash flow generated by the financed project. They often have longer duration, are tradeable, aligned with the long operating life of infrastructure projects and best suited for pension and insurance investors.

Globally, this type of instrument has been used to finance major projects such as toll roads, power plants, and social infrastructure. For example, in Latin America, transportation and energy projects have been financed through project bonds from local and international investors, through the 144A market, a U.S. framework that allows companies to access large institutional investors without going through a full public offering. Similarly, in India, rupee-denominated project bonds have benefited from partial credit guarantees provided by institutions like Crédit Agricole Corporate and Investment Bank, which help lower investment risk and attract more investors.

In practice, project bonds can be structured in two ways: (i) as a take-out instrument, refinancing bank or DFI construction loans once an asset has reached operational stability; or (ii) as a bond issued from day one for brownfield or late-stage greenfield projects where revenue visibility is high, often supported by credit enhancements such as guarantees.

In both cases, the instrument achieves the same outcome: aligning long-term, project cash flows with the long-term liabilities of domestic institutional investors.

The enabling ecosystem is already emerging

1. Nigeria is not starting from zero. Regulatory infrastructure is already in place. The Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) has issued detailed rules governing Project Bonds and Infrastructure Funds, creating standardized issuance structures aligned with global best practice and familiar to institutional investors. The SEC is also mulling the inclusion of the proposed rules on Credit Enhancement Service Providers in the existing rules of the Commission.

2. Market benchmarks are already available. The sovereign yield curve, published by the Debt Management Office (DMO) through its regular monthly auctions, provides a transparent reference point for pricing. This curve serves as the base risk-free rate, against which project bond spreads can be calibrated to reflect construction, operating, and sector-specific risks.

3. The National Pension Commission (PenCom) has revised its Regulation on the investment of Pension Fund Assets, increasing the amount of the country’s N25.9 trillion pension assets to be allocated to infrastructure.

4. InfraCredit has established a robust local-currency guarantee framework, supporting an aggregate guaranteed portfolio of approximately ₦270 billion. The portfolio carries a weighted average tenor of ~8 years, with demonstrated capacity to extend maturities up to 20 years. (InfraCredit 2025)

Why merchant banks should lead

Merchant banks sit at the nexus of origination, structuring, underwriting, and distribution, and they need to work with projects sponsors, financiers and government to develop a pipeline of bankable infrastructure projects. A pipeline of bankable infrastructure projects is important to attract investors as they prefer to invest in an economy with a recognizable pipeline. A pipeline also suggests that a structured and well-thought-out approach was adopted, and the projects would have identified all the major risks and the proposed mitigants to address the identified risks.

This “banks-as-catalysts” model, an economic framework that states banks can play an active and creative role in promoting industrialization and economic development, particularly in emerging markets, can be adopted to structure and mobilise domestic private finance into Infrastructure projects.

Coronation Merchant Bank’s role and vision

At Coronation, we believe the identification, structuring and testing of bankable infrastructure projects are the constraints to mobilization of private capital into the infrastructure space. We bring an integrated platform across Financial Advisory, Capital Mobilization, Commercial Debt, Private Debt and Alternative Financing to identify, structure, underwrite and distribute infrastructure debt into domestic institutions. The Bank works with DFIs, guarantee providers and other banks to scale issuance. Our franchise has supported infrastructure debt issuances via the capital markets, likewise Nigerian corporates and the Government.

From Insight to Execution

If you are considering the issuance of a project bond or you want to discuss pipeline readiness, kindly contact [email protected] or call 020-01279760.

Taiwo Olatunji, CFA is the Group Head of  Investment Banking at Coronation Merchant Bank

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Nigeria’s “Era of Renewed Stability” and the Truths the CBN Chooses to Overlook

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CBN Building Governor Yemi Cardoso

By Blaise Udunze

At the Annual Bankers’ Dinner, when the Governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria, Yemi Cardoso, recently stated that Nigeria had “turned a decisive corner,” his remark aimed to convey assurance that inflation was decelerating with headline inflation eased to 16.05percent and food inflation retreating to 13.12 percent, the exchange rate was stabilizing, and foreign reserves ($46.7 billion) had climbed to a seven-year peak. However, beneath this announcement, a grimmer and conflicting economic situation challenges households, businesses, and investors daily.

Stability is not announced; it is felt. For millions of Nigerians, however, what they are facing instead are increasing difficulties, declining abilities, diminished buying power, and susceptibilities that dispute any assertion of a steady macroeconomic path.

The 303rd MPC gathering was the most significant in recent times, revealing policies and statements that prompt more questions than clarifications. It highlighted an economy striving to appear stable, in theory, while the actual sector struggles to breathe.

This narrative explores why Cardoso’s assertion of “restored stability” is based on a delicate and partial foundation, and why Nigeria continues to be distant from attaining economic robustness.

Manufacturing: The Core of Genuine Stability Remains Struggling to Survive

A strong economy is characterized by growth in production, increased investment, and competitive industries. Nigeria lacks all of these elements.

The Manufacturers Association of Nigeria (MAN) expressed this clearly in its response to the MPC’s choice to keep the Monetary Policy Rate at 27 percent. MAN stated that elevated interest rates are now” hindering production, deterring investment, and weakening competitiveness.

Producers are presently taking loans at rates between 30-37 percent, an environment that renders growth unfeasible and survival challenging. MAN’s Director-General, Segun Ajayi-Kadir, emphasized that although stable exchange rates matter, no genuine industry can endure borrowing expenses to those charged by loan sharks.

The CBN’s choice to maintain elevated interest rates is based on drawing foreign portfolio investors (FPIs) to support the naira’s stability. However, FPIs are well-known for being short-term, speculative, and reactive to disturbances. They do not signify long-term stability. Do they represent genuine economic development?

Genuine stability demands assurance, in manufacturing beyond financial tightening. Manufacturers are expressing, clearly and persistently, that no progress has been made.

Oil Output and Revenue: The Engine Behind Nigeria’s Stability Is Misfiring

Nigeria’s oil sector, which is the backbone of its fiscal stability, is underperforming. The 2025 budget presumed:

  • $75 per barrel oil price
  • 2.06 million barrels per day production

Both objectives have fallen apart. Brent crude lingers near $62.56 under the benchmark. Contrary to the usual explanations, experts attribute the decline not mainly to external shocks but to poor reservoir management, outdated models, weak oversight, and delayed technical decisions.

Engineer Charles Deigh, a regarded expert in reservoir engineering, clearly expressed that Nigeria is experiencing production losses due to inadequate well monitoring, obsolete reservoir models, and technical choices lacking fundamental engineering precision.  These shortcomings result directly in decreased revenue. By September 2025:

–       Nigeria had accumulated N62.15 trillion from oil revenue

–       instead of the N84.67 trillion budgeted.

–       In September, the Federal Inland Revenue Service reported a startling 49.60 percent deficit in revenue from oil taxes.

A nation falling short of its main revenue goals by 50 percent cannot assert stability. Instead, it will take loans. Nigeria has taken loans.

A Stability Built on Debt, Not Productivity

Nigeria is now Africa’s largest borrower, and the world’s third-biggest borrower from the World Bank’s IDA, with $18.5 billion in commitments. By mid-2025, the total public debt amounts to N152.4 trillion, marking a 348.6 percent rise since 2023.

From July to October 2025, the government secured contracts for: $24.79 billion, €4 billion, ¥15 billion, N757 billion, and $500 million Sukuk loans. Nevertheless, in spite of these acquisitions, infrastructure continues to be manufacturing remains limited, and social welfare is still insufficient.

Uche Uwaleke, a finance and capital markets professor, cautions that Nigeria’s debt service ratio is “detrimental to growth.” Currently, the government spends one out of every four naira it earns on servicing debts. Taking on debt is not harmful in itself, provided it finances projects that pay for themselves. In Nigeria, it supports subsistence.  A country funding today, through the labour of the future, cannot assert restored stability.

The Naira: A Currency Supported by Fragile Pillars

The CBN contends that elevated interest rates and enhanced market confidence have contributed to the naira’s stabilisation. However, this steadiness is based on grounds that cannot endure even the slightest global disturbance. The pillars of a stable currency are:

–       Rising domestic production

–       Expanding exports

–       Reliable energy supply

–       Strong security

–       A thriving manufacturing base

None of these is Nigeria’s current reality. What Nigeria actually receives is capital from portfolio investors, and past events (2014, 2018, 2020, 2022) have demonstrated how rapidly these funds disappear.

Unemployment: “Stable” Figures Mask a Rising Youth Crisis 

The CBN touts a reported unemployment rate of 4.3 percent. However, the International Labour Organisation (ILO), along with economists, cautions that the approach conceals more serious issues in the labour market.

Youth joblessness has increased to 6.5 percent, and the Nigerian Economic Summit Group cautions that Nigeria needs to generate 27 million formal employment opportunities by 2030 or else confront a disastrous labour crisis. The employment crisis is a ticking time bomb. A country cannot maintain stability when its youth are inactive, disheartened, and financially marginalized.

FDI Continues to Lag Despite CBN’s Positive Outlook

During the 2025 Nigerian Economic Summit, NESG Chairman, Niyi Yusuf stated that Nigeria’s efforts to attract direct investment (FDI) continue to be sluggish despite the implementation of reforms. FDI genuinely reflects investor trust, not portfolio inflows. FDI signifies enduring dedication, manufacturing plants, employment, and generating value. Nigeria does not have any of this as of now. An economy unable to draw long-term investments lacks stability.

139 Million Nigerians in Poverty: What Stability?

The recent development report from the World Bank estimates that 139 million Nigerians are living in poverty, and more than half of the population faces daily struggles. This is not stability. It is a humanitarian and economic crisis.

Food inflation continues to stay structurally high. The cost of a food basket has risen five times since 2019. Low-income families currently allocate much, as 70 percent of their earnings to food. A government cannot claim stability when its citizens go hungry.

A Fragile, Failing Power Sector

The power sector, another cornerstone of economic stability, is failing. Over 90 million Nigerians are without access to electricity, which is one of the highest figures globally. Even homes linked to the grid get 6.6 hours of electricity daily. Companies allocate funds to generators rather than to technology, innovation, or growth. Nigeria has now emerged as the biggest importer of solar panels in Africa, not due to environmental goals but because the national power grid is unreliable.

A country cannot achieve stability if it is unable to supply electricity to its residences, industrial plants, or medical centers.

Insecurity: The Silent Pillar Undermining All Economic Policy

Banditry, terrorism, abduction, and militant attacks persist in agriculture, manufacturing, logistics, and investment. Nigeria forfeits $15 billion each year due to insecurity and resources that might have fueled industrial development.

Food price increases are mainly caused by instability, and farmers are unable to cultivate, gather, or deliver their products. Nevertheless, the MPC approaches inflation predominantly as an issue of policy. In a country where insecurity fundamentally hinders the economy tightening policy cannot ensure stability.

Inflation Figures Under Suspicion

Questions have also emerged regarding the reliability of inflation data. Dr. Tilewa Adebajo, an economist, affirmed that the CBN might not entirely rely on the NBS inflation figures, highlighting increasing apprehension. A sharp decrease to 16 percent inflation clashes with market conditions.

Families are facing the food costs in two decades. Costs, for transport, housing rent, education fees, and necessary items keep increasing. Food prices cannot decline when farmers are abandoning their farmlands and fleeing for safety. If inflation figures are manipulated or partial, the stability story based on them becomes deceptive. There is, quite frankly, a significant disconnect between governance and the lived experience of ordinary Nigerians.

Foreign Reserves: A Story of Headlines vs Reality

Even Nigeria’s celebrated foreign reserves require scrutiny. The CBN reported $46.7 billion in reserves. However, a closer examination shows:

–       Net usable reserves are only $23.11 billion

–       The remainder is connected to commitments, swaps, and debts

Gross reserves make the news. Net reserves protect the currency. The difference is too large to assert that the naira is stable.

Nigeria’s Economic Contradiction: Stability at the Top, Volatility at the Bottom

In reality, Nigeria is caught between official proclamations of stability and lived experiences of volatility. The disparity between the CBN’s account and the actual experiences of Nigerians highlights a reality:

–       Macroeconomic changes have failed to convert into improvements in human well-being.

–       Nigeria might appear stable officially. Its citizens are experiencing instability in truth.

–       Taking on debt is increasing

–       Poverty is worsening

–       Manufacturing is contracting

–       Jobs are scarce

–       Authority is breaking down

–       Feelings of insecurity are growing stronger

–       Inflation is undermining dignity

–       Companies are struggling to breathe

–       Capital is escaping

–       Misery, among humans, is expanding

A strong economy is one where advancement is experienced, not announced.

What Genuine Stability Demands 

To move from paper stability to real stability, Nigeria must:

  1. Support domestic production.  Cut interest rates for manufacturers, reduce borrowing costs, and provide targeted credit.
  2. Fix oil production technically. Revamp reservoir engineering, implement surveillance. Allocate resources to adequate technical oversight.
  3. Prioritize security. Secure farmlands, highways, and industrial corridors.
  4. Reform the power sector. Invest in grid reliability, renewable integration, and private-sector-led transmission.
  5. Attract real FDI. Streamline rules, enhance the framework, and maintain consistent policy guidance.
  6. Anchor debt on productive projects. Take loans exclusively for infrastructure projects that produce income.
  7. Prioritize reforms in welfare. Adopt crisis-responsive, domestically funded safety nets.
  8. Improve transparency. Ensure inflation, employment, and reserve data reflect reality.

Stability Is Not Given; It Has to Be Achieved

The CBN Governor’s statement of “renewed stability” is hopeful. It remains unproven. The inconsistencies are glaring, the statistics too. The real-world experiences are too harsh. Nigerians require outcomes, not slogans. Stability is gauged not through statements on policy but by whether:

–       Manufacturing plants are creating (factories operate at full capacity),

–       Food is affordable,

–       Young people have jobs

–       The naira is strong without artificial props,

–       Electricity is reliable,

–       Security is assured,

–       Poverty rates are decreasing.

Unless these conditions are met, Nigeria is not experiencing a period of restored stability. Instead, it is going through a phase of recovery, one that will collapse if the actual economy keeps worsening while decision-makers prematurely applaud their successes. The CBN must rethink its approach. Nigeria needs productive stability, not statistical stability.

Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos, can be reached via: [email protected]

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