By Prince Charles Dickson PhD

The phrase Dabush Kabash—popularised by the maverick Nigerian preacher Chukwuemeka Cyril Ohanaemere (Odumeje)—was never meant to be a political theory. It was theatre, prophecy-as-performance, the language of shock and spectacle. Yet, as Nigeria inches toward 2027, Dabush Kabash will not just be in the pulpit, it will find a comfortable home in our politics. It will describe the collision of ambition, uncertainty, bravado, confusion, alliances, betrayals, and loud declarations that mean everything and nothing at the same time.

This is a season where everyone is speaking, few are listening, and the ground beneath the republic feels unsettled. A year where political actors are already campaigning without calling it campaigns, negotiating without admitting it, and defecting without shame. Nigeria, once again, is rehearsing power before the curtain officially rises.

As 2027 approaches, the scramble is neither subtle nor dignified. Atiku Abubakar has made it clear—again—that he will not step down for anyone. His persistence is framed by supporters as resilience and by critics as entitlement. Either way, Atiku represents continuity in Nigerian politics: a belief that the centre must always hold him, regardless of shifting public mood.

Then there is Peter Obi, still buoyed by the aftershocks of 2023, where belief momentarily disrupted cynicism. Whether that energy can be sustained, institutionalised, or translated into broader coalitions remains an open question. Charisma without structure has limits; structure without imagination does too.

Rotimi Amaechi, restless and calculating, watches the chessboard from the sidelines, never fully out of the game. Nasir El-Rufai continues to speak as though he is both inside and outside power, simultaneously insider, critic, and ideologue. Rabiu Kwankwaso, with his disciplined base and regional gravitas, remains a reminder that Nigeria is not won on social media alone.

There are new brides—fresh aspirants, technocrats flirting with politics, and business elites suddenly discovering patriotism. There are old grooms—veterans who have contested so often that ambition has become muscle memory. Everyone is at the gate. No one wants to wait their turn.

If Nigerian politics needed a parable, Rivers State has provided one. The public rift between Nyesom Wike and Siminalayi Fubara is less about governance and more about control—who anoints, who obeys, who inherits political machinery.

Like exiles by the rivers of Babylon, both camps sing songs of loyalty and betrayal, each claiming legitimacy, each invoking the people while fighting over structures. It is a reminder that Nigerian politics is rarely ideological; it is intensely personal. Power is not just about winning elections; it is about owning outcomes, narratives, and successors.

The ruling All Progressives Congress is swelling. Defections are marketed as endorsements, and numerical strength is mistaken for moral authority. But Nigeria has seen this movie before. The People’s Democratic Party once enjoyed similar expansion during the Obasanjo years, only to implode under the weight of internal contradictions, ambition overload, and unmanaged succession.

Big tents collapse when they are not anchored by shared values. Congresses meant to unify often become theatres of exclusion. Candidate selection becomes war by other means. The question is not whether APC is growing, but whether it can survive the internal earthquakes that primaries inevitably unleash.

Meanwhile, the Labour Party stands at a crossroads. The reported ambition of Datti Baba-Ahmed to run as a principal candidate raises deeper questions about succession, internal democracy, and the danger of mistaking momentum for permanence. Movements are fragile when institutions are weak.

Coalitions are forming quietly across regions, religions, and old rivalries. Old enemies share tea; former allies exchange barbs. In Nigeria, there are no permanent friends, only temporary arithmetic. North meets South. Centre negotiates with margins. Everyone is counting delegates, governors, influencers, and platforms.

But alliances without memory are dangerous. Nigeria has a habit of forgetting why previous coalitions failed: unresolved grievances, unequal power-sharing, and elite consensus that excludes the citizens. When deals are made above the heads of the people, legitimacy becomes borrowed—and debt always comes due.

While politicians posture, Nigerians are trying to understand a new tax regime, rising costs, shrinking incomes, and policy explanations that sound more academic than humane. Economic anxiety rarely announces itself with protests at first; it shows up as withdrawal, distrust, and apathy.

Every political drama in 2026 will touch the economy. Every economic policy will shape the political mood. You cannot separate the two. The tragedy is that economic suffering is often treated as background noise while political ambition takes centre stage.

So yes; this is the year of Dabush Kabash. Not because it is funny, but because it is revealing. It captures a politics of spectacle without substance, noise without consensus, movement without direction. Everyone is declaring, few are delivering.

Yet within the chaos lies opportunity. Dabush Kabash also means collision, and collisions force choices. Nigeria will have to decide whether it wants politics as performance or politics as responsibility. Whether power remains a private prize or becomes a public trust.

History will not be kind to this season if it produces only loud men and empty alliances. But it may yet redeem itself if citizens begin to ask harder questions; not just who wants power, but for what, with whom, and at what cost.

Because beyond the theatrics, Nigeria is watching. And this time, the applause is no longer guaranteed—May Nigeria win.

By Fola Baderin

By 2030, more than 25 billion devices are expected to be connected worldwide, each one a potential gateway for both innovation and risk. Already, 87% of companies identify AI as a top business priority, and over 76% are actively using AI in their operations. These numbers reflect a profound shift: technology is no longer a backstage support act but a strategic force shaping economies, societies, and everyday life.

Artificial Intelligence (AI) and the Internet of Things (IoT) sit at the heart of this transformation. Together, they are redefining how decisions are made, how risks are managed, and how value is created across industries. From hospitals monitoring patients in real time to banks using predictive analytics to stop fraud before it happens, AI and IoT are moving from abstract concepts to everyday business tools.

Yet this expansion comes with complexity. As organisations embrace cloud platforms, remote work, and IoT‑enabled systems, their digital footprints grow larger, and so do the threats. Cybersecurity has become a frontline issue, no longer a technical afterthought but a pillar of resilience and trust.

The role of IT has changed dramatically. Once focused on maintenance and uptime, IT teams now sit at the centre of strategy and risk management. Cloud‑first architectures and interconnected networks have introduced new vulnerabilities, forcing IT leaders to act not just as problem‑solvers but as proactive partners in innovation.

AI is proving indispensable in this new environment. It can analyse vast datasets, detect anomalies, and automate responses at machine speed, capabilities that traditional approaches simply cannot match. Combined with IoT, AI delivers real‑time visibility across connected devices, enabling predictive maintenance, intelligent monitoring, and faster decision‑making. These are not abstract benefits; they are the difference between preventing a cyberattack in seconds or suffering a costly breach.

But the story is not only about opportunity. The rapid adoption of AI and IoT raises pressing questions about ethics, privacy, and governance. Automated decision‑making must be transparent, accountable, and fair. Organisations also face a widening skills gap, as demand for professionals who can responsibly manage advanced technologies outpaces supply.

Striking the right balance between innovation and control is essential. Security‑by‑design principles, strong governance frameworks, and continuous risk assessment are no longer optional extras. They are the foundation for trust in a digital economy.

Looking ahead, IT will continue to evolve as AI and IoT become embedded in everyday operations. Success depends not only on adopting advanced technologies, but on aligning them with business goals, regulations, and culture.

For Nigeria, this transformation is both a challenge and an opportunity. With its vibrant fintech sector, growing digital economy, and youthful workforce, the country is well‑placed to harness AI and IoT for growth. Lagos alone hosts hundreds of startups experimenting with AI‑driven financial services, while smart city initiatives in Abuja and other urban centres are exploring IoT for traffic management, energy efficiency, and public safety.

At the same time, Nigeria faces unique vulnerabilities. The country has one of the fastest‑growing internet populations in Africa, but also one of the most targeted by cybercriminals. Reports suggest that Africa loses over $4 billion annually to cybercrime, with Nigeria accounting for a significant share. As more devices and systems come online, the stakes will only rise.

Government policy will play a decisive role. Nigeria’s National Digital Economy Policy and Strategy (2020–2030) already highlights AI and IoT as critical enablers of growth. But translating policy into practice requires investment in infrastructure, stronger regulatory frameworks, and public‑private collaboration. Without these, the promise of AI and IoT could be undermined by weak security and poor governance.

Education and skills development are equally vital. Nigeria’s youthful population which is over 60% under the age of 25 represents a massive opportunity if properly trained. Universities and technical institutes must integrate AI, cybersecurity, and IoT into their curricula, while businesses should invest in continuous upskilling. Otherwise, the skills gap will widen, leaving organisations vulnerable and innovation stunted.

Ethics and trust must also remain central. Nigerians are increasingly aware of data privacy concerns, from mobile banking to health records. Embedding transparency and accountability into AI systems will be critical for public acceptance. Leaders must ensure that innovation does not come at the cost of fairness or human rights.

Real‑world examples already show the potential. Nigerian hospitals are beginning to explore AI‑enabled diagnostic tools, while logistics companies use IoT to track deliveries in real time. These innovations demonstrate how technology can improve lives and strengthen businesses, but they also highlight the need for robust safeguards.

Ultimately, Nigeria’s digital future will be shaped not only by technology but by leadership. IT leaders, policymakers, and entrepreneurs who embrace AI and IoT responsibly with a clear focus on security, ethics, and long‑term value creation. This will be best positioned to navigate an increasingly complex threat landscape. The question is no longer whether to adopt these technologies, but how to do so in a way that builds resilience, trust, and sustainable growth for Nigeria’s digital economy.

Fola Baderin is a cybersecurity consultant and AI advocate focused on shaping Nigeria’s digital future

By Blaise Udunze

When the federal government approved the write-off of about $1.42 billion and N5.57 trillion in legacy debts owed by the Nigerian National Petroleum Company Limited (NNPC Ltd) to the Federation Account, it was rightly described as a landmark decision. After years of disputes, reconciliations, and contested figures, Nigeria’s most important revenue institution was, at least on paper, given a cleaner slate.

The approval, contained in a report prepared by the Nigerian Upstream Petroleum Regulatory Commission (NUPRC) and presented at the last year November meeting of the Federation Account Allocation Committee (FAAC), effectively wiped out 96 percent of NNPC’s dollar-denominated obligations and 88 percent of its naira liabilities accumulated up to December 31, 2024. It resolved long-standing balances arising from crude oil liftings, joint venture royalties, production-sharing contracts, and related arrangements.

Judging it critically, the decision carries both promise and peril, but can be viewed from the perspective of a country desperate to restore confidence in public finance management. It offers an opportunity to reset relationships, clean up accounting records, and move forward under the Petroleum Industry Act (PIA). Yet, it also exposes deep structural weaknesses in Nigeria’s oil revenue governance, weaknesses that, if left unaddressed, could turn today’s debt relief into tomorrow’s fiscal regret.

Context matters. The debt write-off comes not during a period of revenue abundance, but at a time when Nigeria’s upstream revenue performance is under severe strain. According to the same NUPRC document, the commission missed its approved monthly revenue target for November 2025 by N544.76 billion, collecting only N660.04 billion against a projected N1.204 trillion.

Royalty receipts, the backbone of upstream revenue, tell an even starker story. It is alarming that against an approved monthly royalty projection of N1.144 trillion, only N605.26 billion was collected, leaving a shortfall of N538.92 billion. Cumulatively, by the end of November 2025, the revenue gap stood at N5.65 trillion, with royalty collections alone falling short by N5.63 trillion. These figures underscore how fragile Nigeria’s fiscal position remains, even as trillions of naira in historical obligations are being written off.

To be fair, the debts forgiven were not incurred overnight. They are the product of years of disputed remittances, lacking transparent accounting practices, and overlapping institutional roles, particularly under the pre-PIA regime. As petroleum economist Prof. Wumi Iledare has repeatedly observed, the former Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation combined regulatory, commercial, and operational functions, making revenue reconciliation cumbersome and frequently contested.

That legacy continues to haunt the system, as witnessed with the ongoing dispute between NNPC Ltd and Periscope Consulting, the audit firm engaged by the Nigeria Governors’ Forum, over an alleged $42.37 billion under-remittance between 2011 and 2017, which illustrates how unresolved the past remains. Though NNPC insists all revenues were properly accounted for as claimed, Periscope maintains that significant gaps persist, forcing FAAC to mandate yet another reconciliation exercise. This recurring pattern of audits, counterclaims, and stalemates has weakened trust in the federation revenue system and eroded confidence among states that depend on oil proceeds for survival.

Crucially, the debt write-off does not mean NNPC has turned a corner financially. Statutory obligations incurred between January and October 2025 remain on the books, amounting to about $56.8 million and N1.02 trillion. Although part of the dollar component was recovered during the period under review, the accumulation of new liabilities so soon after reconciliation raises uncomfortable questions about whether old habits are being replaced with genuine fiscal discipline.

More troubling still is what NNPC’s own audited financial statements reveal about its internal financial health. Despite recording a profit after tax of N5.4 trillion on revenues of N45.1 trillion in 2024, the company’s inter-company debts ballooned to N30.3 trillion, representing a 70 per cent increase within a single year. This is not debt owed to external creditors but largely obligations between NNPC and its subsidiaries, effectively the company owing itself.

Records show that of 32 subsidiaries, only eight are debt-free, and the rest, particularly the refineries, trading arms, and gas infrastructure units, remain heavily indebted to the parent company. There was a recurring cycle where profitable units subsidise chronically underperforming ones, and accountability steadily erodes because cash that should fund maintenance, expansion, and efficiency improvements is instead trapped in internal receivables.

The refineries offer a stark illustration whereby the Port Harcourt Refining Company alone owed N4.22 trillion in 2024, more than double its 2023 figure, while Kaduna and Warri refineries followed closely, with debts of N2.39 trillion and N2.06 trillion respectively. Despite the repeated failed turnaround maintenance with many years of rehabilitation spending, none have operated sustainably at commercially viable levels. Their continued dependence on financial support from the parent company highlights the cost of postponing difficult restructuring decisions.

And, for this reason, international observers have long warned about these structural weaknesses. One of the critics, the World Bank, has repeatedly flagged NNPC as a major source of revenue leakages. It further noted that the persistent gaps between reported earnings and actual remittances to the Federation Account. Even after the removal of petrol subsidies, the bank observed that NNPC remitted only about 50 per cent of the revenue gains, using the rest to offset past arrears. Such practices, while perhaps defensible in internal cash management terms, undermine fiscal transparency and weaken Nigeria’s macroeconomic credibility.

This is why the central issue is not the debt write-off itself, but what follows it because debt forgiveness is not reform. Without firm safeguards, it risks entrenching the very behaviours that created the problem in the first place. As Prof. Omowumi Iledare has warned, the scale and pace of the inter-company debt build-up represent a governance test rather than a mere accounting anomaly. Allowing subsidiaries to operate indefinitely without settling obligations is incompatible with the idea of a commercially driven national oil company.

The fact remains that if NNPC wants to function as a true commercial holding company under the PIA, it must enforce strict settlement timelines, restructure or divest non-viable subsidiaries, while clearly separating legacy debts from new obligations. With this, it holds subsidiary leadership accountable for cash flow and profitability. Independent, real-time audits and transparent reporting must become routine features of governance, not emergency responses triggered by controversy.

There is also a broader national implication. At a time when Nigerians are being asked to accept higher taxes, reduced subsidies, and fiscal tightening, large-scale debt write-offs without visible accountability risk undermining the legitimacy of the entire revenue system. Citizens cannot be expected to bear heavier burdens while systemic inefficiencies in the country’s most strategic sector persist.

Of a truth, the cancellation of NNPC’s legacy debts could mark a turning point in Nigeria’s fiscal governance, but only if it is not treated as its conclusion but the beginning of reform.

If discipline, transparency, and commercial accountability follow, the decision may yet help reposition NNPC as a profitable, credible, and PIA-compliant institution. If not, today’s clean slate will simply defer the reckoning until the next reconciliation, the next audit dispute, and the next fiscal crisis.

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