Feature/OPED
Tinubu’s 15% Fuel Duty: Taxing Pain in a Broken Economy
By Blaise Udunze
When a nation is bleeding economically, with inflation at historic highs and citizens gasping for survival, one expects government policy to offer relief, not suffocation. Yet, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s approval of a 15 per cent import duty on petrol and diesel does the exact opposite for it taxing pain in a broken economy.
According to a presidential letter dated October 21, 2025, and addressed to the Federal Inland Revenue Service (FIRS) and the Nigerian Midstream and Downstream Petroleum Regulatory Authority (NMDPRA), Tinubu directed the immediate implementation of the new import tariff as part of what the government described as a “market responsive import tariff framework.”
Signed by his Private Secretary, Damilotun Aderemi, the memo followed a proposal by the Executive Chairman of the FIRS, Zacch Adedeji, who claimed the measure was part of “ongoing reforms to boost local refining, ensure price stability, and strengthen the naira-based oil economy” in line with the so-called Renewed Hope Agenda.
In theory, it sounds noble with the aim to protect local refineries, promote energy security, and build a self-sustaining oil economy. But in practice, this policy is another dagger in the heart of Nigerians already crushed by the triple burden of fuel inflation, currency collapse, and dwindling purchasing power.
Because let’s face it, you cannot tax your way out of poverty when the people are already too poor to pay for survival.
The New Tariff: A Policy with Pain Written All Over It
Under the directive, importers will now pay a 15 per cent ad-valorem duty on the cost, insurance, and freight (CIF) value of imported petrol and diesel. The government argues that this will “align import costs with domestic market realities” and “protect local producers from unfair pricing.”
But industry data reveal what this truly means at current CIF levels, the new tariff will raise the landing cost of petrol by about N99.72 per litre. In other words, the already painful pump price hovering around N920 per litre in many parts of Nigeria could easily surpass N1,000 per litre within weeks.
This isn’t speculation, it is arithmetic. Depot operators have already sounded the alarm.
“As it is, the price of fuel may go above N1,000 per litre. I don’t know why the government will be adding more to people’s suffering,” one operator lamented in an interview.
Another industry source added, “Some of the importers are working in alignment with Dangote, which is why the last price increase was general. All players raised their prices at once. Without a clear framework to stabilise market forces, this import duty will worsen the hardship faced by consumers.”
So, while the government insists the duty “won’t choke supply or inflate prices beyond sustainable thresholds,” market realities tell a different story. The moment you tax importation of essential energy products in a country that barely refines any petrol domestically, you are effectively taxing the daily lives of millions who depend on that fuel to move, work, and eat.
An Economy Already in Free Fall
Nigeria’s economy today stands on the brink. The naira has lost nearly half its value since mid-2023, driving annual inflation above 34 percent, while food inflation hovers at 40 percent, according to the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS). In one of the world’s largest oil producing nations, fuel prices quintupled, increasing more than 514 percent from N175 in May 2023 to N900, transportation costs have skyrocketed with the “agbuero” extortion compounding issues, small businesses are collapsing, and households are cutting meals to survive.
When fuel prices rise, everything else follows, from food to transportation, rent, and the cost of living. The import duty therefore becomes a multiplier of misery, cascading through the economy in ways the government either underestimates or deliberately ignores.
Manufacturers who depend on diesel to power their factories will pass the extra cost to consumers. Transporters will raise fares. Traders will hike prices. Schools, hospitals, and logistics companies will all adjust their rates upward.
Within a few months, the 15 percent duty will translate into another round of inflationary spiral, deepening poverty and eroding the value of wages even further.
According to the National Bureau of Statistics, over 133 million Nigerians already live-in multidimensional poverty. While the World Bank’s 139 million estimate translates to roughly six in 10 Nigerians living below poverty line. This new tax could easily push millions more into deeper deprivation.
Protecting Local Refineries or Creating a Monopoly?
The government justifies this new tariff as a way to “protect local refineries.” But this explanation exposes the deeper structural danger that Nigeria may be walking straight into a private monopoly in the petroleum sector with Dangote Refinery as the ultimate winner.
While protecting local industry is a legitimate policy goal, doing so without ensuring fair competition is economic suicide. The reality today is that Dangote Refinery dominates the refining landscape both in size and political influence.
Most of the smaller modular refineries in the Niger Delta are struggling to start production due to lack of crude supply, high financing costs, and regulatory uncertainty. The government’s import duty, therefore, does not create a level playing field; it simply tilts the market decisively in favour of Dangote.
If importers are taxed heavily while one giant refinery backed by political access and incentives controls the supply chain, the result is a monopoly, not a free market. And when one player dominates fuel production and pricing in a country of over 200 million people, the economy is at his mercy.
Dangote could dictate wholesale prices, influence market supply, and quietly shape government policy, all under the banner of “local protection.” Already, marketers allege that the last round of price increases was coordinated across the board, hinting at a shadow monopoly forming in plain sight.
This is dangerous for any economy, but for Nigeria where corruption and patronage distort every policy, it is catastrophic.
Energy Security Built on Fragile Foundations
The FIRS memo to the President claimed that the new tariff aims to “strengthen local refining capacity and ensure affordable supply.” But local refining remains largely aspirational.
As of today, Nigeria still imports nearly all its petrol, despite having four state owned refineries that are perpetually moribund. The Dangote Refinery, although a technical marvel, is still struggling to achieve full-scale petrol output and relies on imported crude for much of its operations.
The modular refineries, which were supposed to fill the gap, are barely surviving. Without access to crude oil feedstock often monopolised by larger operators, they cannot compete.
So, who exactly is being protected by this policy?
Certainly not the small modular refineries in Edo, Bayelsa, or Rivers. Not the ordinary Nigerian who will now pay N1,000 for a litre of fuel. Not even the struggling logistics sector, already crippled by high energy costs.
The only entity that benefits is a dominant private player who can withstand the short-term shock and then profit massively once competitors are priced out.
Policy Contradictions and Economic Disconnect
The tragedy of this decision lies not only in its cruelty but in its confusion. The same administration that preaches “ease of doing business” and “market freedom” is imposing tariffs that stifle competition and hurt consumers.
When President Tinubu removed fuel subsidy in May 2023, he promised that “subsidy is gone” and that market forces would drive fair pricing. But over a year later, Nigerians have learned that what replaced subsidy is not a free market but it is a managed monopoly, backed by selective protectionism and opaque pricing.
The contradiction is stark. You cannot remove subsidies on one hand and then impose punitive tariffs on the other. You cannot preach deregulation while protecting a single dominant player.
This isn’t market reform; it is economic confusion disguised as policy innovation.
The Human Cost: Everyday Nigerians Paying the Price
For the ordinary Nigerians, the macroeconomics of import tariffs mean little. What matters is survival.
A family man who spends N2,000 daily on transport now faces N3,000. A small business owner running a diesel generator must now budget twice as much for power. Food vendors, farmers, delivery riders, all are trapped in a cycle of rising costs and shrinking incomes.
Each increase in fuel price is another wound to the working class. And when government justifies it with lofty phrases like “energy security” and “local capacity protection,” it insults the intelligence of citizens who know that their suffering funds elite comfort.
The average Nigerian no longer trusts policy announcements because they have learned that every “reform” means more hardship.
Inflationary Tsunami Ahead
Economic experts have already warned that this new import duty could ignite a fresh wave of inflation. Since transportation is a key cost component in nearly every sector, a 15 percent increase in fuel import costs will ripple through the entire economy.
Analysts at SBM Intelligence estimate that transport fares could rise by another 25–30 percent, while food inflation could easily cross 45 percent by early 2026 if the policy is not reversed.
This isn’t mere speculation. We have been here before. After subsidy removal in 2023, inflation jumped from 22 percent to 34 percent within months. The difference now is that citizens have exhausted their coping mechanisms.
When people can no longer eat, they revolt. The Nigerian state risks pushing its citizens to that breaking point.
Killing Local Competition Before It is Born
Ironically, while the government claims to be “protecting local refining,” this policy will likely kill smaller refineries before they gain traction.
Most modular refineries were financed by private capital at high interest rates. They need steady cash flow and competitive margins to survive. But when the government grants one mega-refinery privileged protection and imposes heavy duties on imports, it destroys the business case for smaller players.
No investor will finance modular refineries if the regulatory environment favours one company. And when competition dies, innovation dies with it.
Nigeria could have built a diversified refining ecosystem, with multiple regional players supplying local markets and driving down costs. Instead, it is creating a single industrial empire whose influence will dwarf even that of the Nigerian National Petroleum Company (NNPC).
That is not industrial policy. It is economic feudalism.
A Mirage of Regional Price Comparisons
The government argues that even with the new tariff, Nigeria’s pump prices would remain below regional averages: N964 per litre compared to Senegal’s $1.76, Côte d’Ivoire’s $1.52, and Ghana’s $1.37.
But this comparison is disingenuous. Those countries have stable power grids, working public transportation, and better social safety nets. Nigerians don’t.
In a nation where fuel directly powers homes, businesses, and schools due to epileptic electricity supply, any increase in fuel price hits far harder. Comparing Nigeria to Senegal or Ghana ignores the structural poverty and infrastructure decay that amplify every price shock.
It is like comparing a man who walks barefoot to another who drives a car and both are on the road, but one feels every stone.
Taxing Misery in the Name of Reform
Policies like this expose the moral blindness of governance in Nigeria. They treat citizens as economic statistics, not human beings.
The government sees fuel as a fiscal problem to be taxed, not a lifeline that millions depend on. It assumes that raising revenue justifies raising suffering.
But no reform can succeed if it crushes the very people it is meant to uplift.
Even from a fiscal standpoint, this duty will not deliver the revenue the government expects. Higher pump prices will reduce demand, encourage smuggling, and fuel black-market trading. The result will be less revenue, more inflation, and higher corruption.
Policy Alternatives That Make Sense
If the goal is truly to strengthen local refining and energy security, there are better, smarter paths to take.
– Provide access to crude oil for modular refineries under transparent, fair terms.
– Offer tax incentives for local refiners, not punitive import tariffs that hurt consumers.
– Encourage competition through regulatory equity, not protectionism.
– Invest in energy infrastructure, including pipelines, storage, and distribution to reduce logistics costs.
– Reform the power sector so that industries are not forced to rely on diesel for survival.
Nigeria doesn’t need more taxes; it needs intelligent policies that balance protection with affordability.
The Politics of Pain
Let’s be clear, this 15 percent duty is as political as it is economic. It serves powerful business interests cloaked in nationalist rhetoric.
Tinubu’s government has consistently framed hardship as “sacrifice” for a better future. But when sacrifice becomes perpetual, it ceases to be patriotic, it becomes exploitation.
The political cost of this decision could be severe. Nigerians who tolerated subsidy removal with the promise of reform may not tolerate another shock that pushes them into darkness.
Already, discontent is growing. Labour unions are preparing for protests, civil society groups are calling for reversal, and the opposition is mobilising public anger.
If unchecked, this could become the defining crisis of the Tinubu presidency as a symbol of reform gone wrong.
The Road Not Taken
There was an opportunity to rebuild Nigeria’s energy sector through inclusive, transparent reforms. The government could have used the subsidy savings to fix refineries, support modular operators, and invest in renewables.
Instead, it has chosen the easy route by taxing more, explaining less, and hoping for miracles.
But the laws of economics are unforgiving. You cannot squeeze revenue from an economy that is shrinking. You cannot build energy security on policies that destroy purchasing power. You cannot claim to protect the poor by enriching monopolies.
A Nation at the Crossroads
President Tinubu’s 15 percent fuel import duty is not just a fiscal measure, it is a moral test of governance.
It asks whether the Nigerian state still sees its people as citizens or merely as consumers to be taxed. Whether “Renewed Hope” means renewed hardship. Whether government policy can still reflect empathy, not elitism.
As petrol edges beyond N1,000 per litre and diesel costs strangle businesses, Nigerians are once again left to bear the consequences of decisions they did not make and cannot afford.
History will judge this administration not by its slogans, but by how it handled the suffering of its people.
And if the story of this fuel duty becomes the story of another failed reform of monopolies masquerading as markets, and citizens sacrificed for profit, then “Renewed Hope” will be remembered not as a promise, but as a warning.
Blaise, a journalist and PR professional writes from Lagos, can be reached via: bl***********@***il.com
Feature/OPED
The Risk of Calling Alex Otti ‘Another Sam Mbakwe’
By Blaise Udunze
Do you know that history rarely produces leaders whose names become synonymous with development? In Nigeria’s post-independence political history, only a few governors have achieved that distinction. And, among them stands Dee Sam Mbakwe, whose tenure as Governor of the old Imo State between 1979 and 1983 permanently and to date altered public expectations of what purposeful leadership could accomplish.
One outstanding fact that can’t be erased is that even more than four decades after leaving office, Mbakwe’s name remains shorthand for visionary governance. It has been on record that across today’s Imo, Abia, Ebonyi and parts of Rivers State, the territories carved out of the old Imo State, roads, educational institutions, hospitals and industrial estates associated with his administration still shape public memory to date. His lasting and enduring legacy demonstrates an important principle that visibly shows that governments are remembered less for political speeches or white elephant projects in print than for institutions and infrastructure that survive them.
Today, a similar conversation is unfolding in Abia State. Governor Alex Otti, now in the middle of his first term, is increasingly being compared with the legendary Mbakwe. While noting that it is not a risk, such comparisons should neither be dismissed as political enthusiasm nor accepted as settled history. They deserve careful examination through the lens of governance, economics and institutional transformation. History ultimately rewards evidence, not sentiment.
The more important and inevitable question, therefore, is whether Abia is merely experiencing another burst of public infrastructure or whether it is witnessing the emergence of a developmental state that is strongly built and anchored on long-term economic transformation because the distinction truly matters.
Apt attention is drawn to the view that development economists have long argued that sustained economic growth depends not on isolated projects but on complementary investments in infrastructure, energy, institutions, human capital and productive enterprise. Roads without electricity rarely attract industries. Schools without jobs encourage migration. Fiscal discipline without investment suppresses growth. Successful governments integrate these sectors into a coherent development strategy.
Measured against this framework, Otti’s administration appears to be pursuing something more ambitious than conventional public works.
For decades, the majority of those in the know and who have visited could attest that Abia’s deteriorating road network represented the visible face of state failure. Aba, once known as the commercial heartbeat of the South-East and also one of Africa’s largest clusters of small and medium-scale manufacturers, gradually lost competitiveness as logistics costs rose and businesses struggled with decaying infrastructure.
Economic theory is unequivocal in that infrastructure reduces transaction costs, improves productivity and attracts private investment.
Recognising this reality, the Otti administration has made infrastructure renewal its most visible priority. By its third anniversary, the government reported completing more than 414 road projects covering over 860 kilometres, including strategic economic corridors such as Port Harcourt Road, Ohanku Road, Aguiyi Ironsi Boulevard, Omenuko Bridge and numerous urban and rural link roads.
The significance extends beyond asphalt. This is to say that every rehabilitated road lowers transport costs, improves market access, reduces vehicle operating expenses and enhances the competitiveness of manufacturers, traders and farmers. There must be an understanding that infrastructure, in this context, becomes an economic policy rather than merely a construction programme.
The symbolism of these projects recalls Sam Mbakwe’s philosophy that public works should stimulate production rather than merely create political visibility. Like Mbakwe, Otti appears to recognise that infrastructure is not an end in itself but the foundation upon which economic prosperity is built.
If roads defined Mbakwe’s administration, reliable electricity may ultimately define Otti’s.
Few constraints have damaged Nigeria’s industrial competitiveness more than unreliable power supply. Recognising this, the administration has leveraged the Aba Integrated Power Project developed by Professor Barth Nnaji’s Geometric Power as a catalyst for wider economic transformation.
It is worth noting that Governor Otti has openly acknowledged that more reliable electricity provided the confidence to introduce electric buses into Abia’s transportation system, describing Geometric Power as “a landmark investment” that lays the foundation for industrial growth, energy security, and cleaner transportation. Hence, it has become the goose that lays the golden eggs, as his admission is significant because it demonstrates an understanding that electricity is not merely a utility but an engine of economic growth.
Development is rarely driven by isolated projects. It occurs when infrastructure complements infrastructure. Electricity powers factories. Roads move goods. Efficient transportation expands labour mobility. Water improves public health. Digital infrastructure attracts investment. Together, they create an ecosystem capable of sustaining economic growth.
Professor Barth Nnaji’s disclosure adds another historical dimension to this story. Long before entering politics, Alex Otti played a critical role in securing financing for the Geometric Power Project during his banking career at First Bank and later Diamond Bank. He also helped facilitate the restructuring of the project’s foreign currency obligations from dollars to naira. This continuity suggests that Otti’s commitment to industrial infrastructure predates his governorship. Unlike politicians who discover development after assuming office, his engagement with productive investments appears rooted in decades of experience within Nigeria’s financial system.
One of the enduring criticisms of many Nigerian states is their dependence on monthly allocations from the Federation Account Allocation Committee (FAAC), with limited attention paid to expanding internally generated economic activity. Sam Mbakwe challenged that model through industrial estates and productive public investments.
Otti appears to be pursuing a twenty-first-century version of the same philosophy.
The proposed $145 million solar manufacturing plant in Isiala Ngwa South, government support for Ultimum Limited’s multimillion-dollar beverage manufacturing facility, efforts to operationalise the long-delayed Isiala Ngwa Inland Dry Port and continued urban renewal in Aba all point towards an economy increasingly oriented towards production rather than consumption.
These initiatives matter because investment decisions respond to confidence. Capital flows where infrastructure is reliable, institutions are predictable, and governments demonstrate policy consistency. Every new factory expands employment. Every logistics hub reduces business costs. Every industrial investment broadens the state’s future tax base. This is how economies become less dependent on federal allocations and more reliant on productive enterprise.
Modern development extends beyond physical infrastructure. Recognising this reality, the administration has invested in healthcare, expanded educational reforms, upgraded public hospitals, recruited teachers and healthcare personnel and partnered with the Federal Government, the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) and TETFund to establish Nigeria’s first Manufacturing Technology University Innovation Pod at Michael Okpara University of Agriculture, Umudike.
The symbolism is significant. While Mbakwe built institutions for an industrial economy, Otti appears to be preparing Abia for an innovation-driven economy where manufacturing increasingly depends on technology, research and advanced skills. Development today requires not only roads and bridges but also intellectual infrastructure.
Beyond healthcare and education, the rehabilitation of the Ubakala and Ariaria Water Schemes underscores the administration’s recognition that access to potable water remains a critical driver of public health and productivity. Likewise, it would be said that the rollout of electric buses, commissioned by the Director-General of the World Trade Organisation, Dr Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, represents an early attempt to align Abia’s transportation system with global trends in sustainable urban mobility. The basic fact is that these initiatives reinforce the idea that development is most effective when sectors are integrated rather than treated as isolated government programmes, which has been a norm with many states.
Perhaps the least visible but most consequential reform lies in governance itself.
Markets respond not merely to infrastructure but to credibility. Businesses invest where contracts are respected. Banks lend where institutions function. Citizens willingly pay taxes where governments deliver services.
Against this backdrop, efforts to improve fiscal discipline, reduce inherited liabilities, clear more than N40 billion in salary and pension arrears, strengthen transparency and restore confidence in public administration become economic reforms in their own right.
Governance is itself infrastructure. It lowers uncertainty, attracts investment, encourages entrepreneurship and expands opportunity.
One cannot overlook the growing external validation of Abia’s transformation. Members of the Presidency’s Renewed Hope Media Team, after touring projects across the state, publicly acknowledged the scale of infrastructural renewal taking place. The willingness of investors to commit $145 million to a solar manufacturing facility, the collaboration between the Abia State Government, the Federal Government, UNDP and TETFund on innovation projects, and ongoing discussions around the Abia International Airport all point to increasing confidence in the state’s development trajectory.
This matters because no state government possesses sufficient resources to finance development alone; as such, partnerships also come to the rescue. Sustainable economic transformation depends on attracting private investment, fostering productive partnerships and creating an enabling environment where businesses can flourish and remain sustainable.
Notwithstanding, understand that comparisons with Sam Mbakwe should be aptly approached with caution. History has already delivered its verdict on Mbakwe, and there must be this understanding that his reputation has endured because successive generations continued to experience the value of the infrastructure and institutions he built.
Alex Otti’s story is still being written. Many flagship projects remain under construction. The proposed Abia International Airport, the planned FIFA-standard stadium in Aba, the expansion of industrial clusters, the operationalisation of the Isiala Ngwa Inland Dry Port and other strategic initiatives must ultimately translate into measurable improvements in economic performance.
The true indicators of success will not simply be kilometres of roads completed or projects commissioned. They will include higher internally generated revenue, increased private investment, expanded manufacturing output, lower unemployment, stronger small and medium-sized enterprises, improved educational outcomes, wider healthcare access, increased exports and rising household incomes.
These are the metrics that distinguish transformational governance from routine administration.
Nigeria has never lacked development plans. What it has often lacked is disciplined execution.
Sam Mbakwe demonstrated that purposeful leadership could transform public expectations even within a single tenure. Alex Otti appears to be pursuing a similar path under far more difficult macroeconomic conditions characterised by high inflation, fiscal constraints, exchange-rate volatility, elevated public debt and heightened public scrutiny.
Whether he ultimately joins the ranks of Nigeria’s truly transformational governors will depend less on today’s commendations than on tomorrow’s outcomes.
If the institutions being built endure, if industries expand, if investors continue to choose Abia, if innovation flourishes and if ordinary citizens experience sustained improvements in their quality of life, history may indeed place Alex Otti alongside Sam Mbakwe.
For history has always reserved its highest honours not for politicians who merely won elections, but for leaders who fundamentally changed the economic destiny of their people.
Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos and can be reached via: bl***********@***il.com
Feature/OPED
The Kaduna Peace Model, HURIWA and Northern Governors: Promise, Proof or Anagnorisis?
By Sani Abdulrazak, PhD
The fundamentality of securing our lives and property, especially in Northern Nigeria, cannot be overemphasised. Any other responsibility comes after this for a responsible government. Sadly, for close to two decades, Northern Nigeria has been a gallows of despair, rape, and death. From banditry and freelance killings that scratch, pierce, and are ruining the North West, to the bloody insurgency that barks and bites in the North East, to farmers-herder conflicts in the North Central, leaving behind a scorching trail of rancour and sorrow of unimaginable proportion for millions, Kaduna State was one of the worst-hit states in terms of banditry and kidnappings, ethno-religious conflicts, and freelance killings.
But in the last three years, the state has metamorphosed into one of the most peaceful in the region via the Kaduna Peace Model. More so, the recent endorsement of the Kaduna Peace Model by the Human Rights Writers Association of Nigeria (HURIWA) deserves thoughtful examination rather than unquestioning acceptance. HURIWA’s position has brought renewed attention to Kaduna State’s approach to conflict management and peacebuilding. The endorsement raises an important policy question: Has Kaduna developed a governance model capable of reducing conflict in a sustainable manner, and if so, why have other northern states not moved to adapt it? These questions deserve answers rooted in facts rather than political loyalties.
The phrase “Kaduna Peace Model” does not point to or refer to a single law, policy document, or institutional framework. Rather, it describes an evolving approach that combines conventional security operations with community engagement, dialogue among stakeholders, collaboration with traditional and religious institutions, support for security agencies, conflict mediation, and development interventions in communities affected by violence. Instead of relying exclusively on military responses, the approach seeks to address some of the social and political conditions that often sustain insecurity. Whether this amounts to a distinct governance model remains open to debate. Nevertheless, it reflects a broader understanding that lasting peace requires more than the deployment of armed personnel. Security may suppress violence temporarily, but durable peace depends equally on trust, inclusion, justice, and economic opportunity.
The next question is unavoidable: Has the approach worked?
The evidence suggests that Kaduna today presents a different security picture from that of three years ago, although not an entirely peaceful one. Around 2023, the state remained one of Nigeria’s most violence-affected regions. Conflict trackers documented frequent attacks, kidnappings, and communal violence, with 85 recorded conflict incidents resulting in 261 fatalities in the final quarter of 2023 alone. Entire communities lived under constant fear, farming activities were disrupted in several local government areas, and many roads within the state became synonymous with insecurity.
Recent years, however, indicate a significant degree of improvement in almost all parts of the state. Some communities have resumed agricultural activities, commercial movement has improved along previously troubled corridors, and government engagement with local communities has become more visible. These developments suggest that violence has, in almost all areas of the state, reduced in intensity. Yet such observations should not be mistaken for a declaration of victory.
A meaningful assessment, however, goes beyond casualty figures alone. It must also consider whether displaced persons have returned home, whether schools operate without interruption, whether farmers cultivate their lands without fear, whether markets function normally, and whether citizens genuinely perceive improvements in their daily security. Peace, as we know it, is not merely the absence of gunfire; it is the restoration of ordinary life.
It is within this context that HURIWA’s endorsement should be understood.
Civil society organisations play an important role in recognising promising governance practices, encouraging innovation, and stimulating public debate. Their endorsements can influence policy conversations and encourage governments to learn from one another. However, endorsements are neither official certifications nor substitutes for independent evaluation. Every governance model, regardless of who praises it, must remain open to scrutiny, evidence, and continuous improvement.
The larger question, therefore, is whether the Kaduna experience can be replicated elsewhere across Northern Nigeria.
It is a fact that certain principles underlying the Kaduna approach are broadly applicable. Community dialogue, cooperation between government and traditional institutions, investment in local peacebuilding, and stronger collaboration with security agencies are strategies that have relevance beyond Kaduna’s borders. But due to the non-uniformity and complexity of the hydra-headed nature of insecurity across Northern Nigeria, it becomes almost impossible for the model to work across the whole of Northern Nigeria. The security dynamics of Kaduna differ from those of Zamfara, Katsina, Sokoto, Niger, Benue, Plateau, or Borno. Banditry, communal conflicts, terrorism, farmer-herder disputes, and transnational criminal networks vary significantly in their causes and manifestations. A strategy that succeeds in one environment cannot simply be copied into another without adjustment.
This probably explains why other northern governors have not simply adopted what is popularly described as the Kaduna Peace Model. Effective governance is context-specific. Every state possesses different demographic realities, institutional capacities, historical grievances, and security challenges. Replication without adaptation risks producing disappointing outcomes. If northern states are to draw lessons from Kaduna’s experience, several adjustments are necessary. Independent conflict assessments should precede policy adoption. Local governments must become stronger partners in peacebuilding. Traditional and religious leaders should be integrated into structured dialogue mechanisms rather than informal consultations alone. Reliable security data should guide decision-making, while transparent monitoring systems should measure outcomes beyond political narratives. Economic recovery, youth employment, and access to justice must complement security interventions if peace is to endure.
Despite its widely acknowledged contributions to reducing insecurity and fostering dialogue over the past three years, the Kaduna Peace Model is not without significant shortcomings. One of its most notable weaknesses is the absence of a clearly documented framework that defines its philosophy, guiding principles, operational structure, implementation strategy, monitoring indicators, and evaluation mechanisms. Consequently, much of what is described as the “Kaduna Peace Model” exists in practice rather than in a codified, replicable document, making independent assessment, institutional continuity, and adaptation by other jurisdictions difficult. Furthermore, the model remains heavily dependent on the commitment of the incumbent political leadership, raising concerns about its sustainability beyond the current administration. While it has contributed to stabilising many communities, it has yet to comprehensively address the underlying structural drivers of conflict, including competition over natural resources and historical grievances, and questions persist regarding transparency, measurable performance indicators, accountability, and the extent of participation by women, youth, victims, and other marginalised groups. These limitations suggest that although the model has demonstrated practical value, its long-term effectiveness would be strengthened through formal documentation, institutionalisation, a robust implementation framework, and regular independent evaluation.
Possibly the greatest lesson from Kaduna is not that it has discovered a perfect formula for peace. No society has. Rather, it demonstrates that conflict management increasingly demands governance approaches that extend beyond military deployments alone. Therefore, HURIWA’s endorsement should not be viewed as the conclusion of the conversation but as its beginning. Whether the Kaduna Peace Model becomes a genuine reference point for other states will depend less on public commendation than on rigorous evidence, independent evaluation, and its ability to produce durable improvements in the lives of ordinary citizens.
In governance, therefore, the true measure of peace is not the number of endorsements the Kaduna Peace Model receives. It is the number of lives it has protected, the communities restored, and the confidence with which citizens wake each morning believing that tomorrow will be safer than yesterday.
Sani Abdulrazak, PhD, is a writer, researcher and public affairs analyst based in Zaria, Kaduna State
Feature/OPED
$40bn Net Reserves, Record Wealth, Relentless Poverty: Who Is Nigeria’s Economy Serving Today?
By Blaise Udunze
No doubt, it was a welcome announcement that Nigeria’s net foreign exchange (FX) reserves have surged by an astonishing 1,233 per cent from about $3 billion to over $40 billion. This would ordinarily be the kind of economic milestone that inspires optimism, coupled with gross external reserves of about $52.52 billion, which are sufficient to finance roughly 11 months of imports of goods and services. Penultimate week, the Governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN), Olayemi Cardoso, presented the development at the end of the 306th meeting of the apex bank’s Monetary Policy Committee (MPC) as evidence that its reforms are working.
It is no surprise that around the same period, one would say that another important economic event occurred with the government sharing more money than ever before with the federal, state, and local governments, as the Federation Account Allocation Committee (FAAC) distributed a record N2.55 trillion, representing an increase of N250 billion over the N2.3 trillion shared in the preceding month.
Of course, the official figures are impressive numbers. Yes, anyone would conclude that the economy is becoming stronger, more stable and better positioned for growth. While this suggests stronger public finances, it also raises the question of whether these larger allocations are producing tangible improvements in the lives of ordinary Nigerians. More interesting is that another set of figures tells a completely different story.
According to the World Bank’s newly approved Country Partnership Framework for Nigeria, 61 per cent of Nigerians now live below the poverty line, while about 79 per cent are either poor or vulnerable to falling into poverty. More than 139 million Nigerians live below the poverty line. Over 86 million people lack access to electricity, while millions of young Nigerians enter the labour market every year with little prospect of decent employment.
The contradiction could not be starker. If reserves are rising, government revenues are increasing, and governments at all levels are receiving record allocations, why are the lives of ordinary Nigerians becoming more difficult?
This is the question policymakers must answer not with statistics, but with tangible improvements in the lives of citizens. If government agencies engineering these figures must know, these are not merely economic statistics; they are the lived realities by which citizens judge any government.
Foreign exchange reserves are not an economic trophy. They are a means to an end. Strong reserves are expected to stabilise the currency, reassure investors, strengthen the country’s ability to withstand external shocks and create an enabling environment for investment, production and employment.
But reserves alone do not feed families nor would they reduce their housing rents. They do not lower transport fares. They do not reduce school fees. They do not make healthcare affordable. Nor do they automatically create jobs.
Ultimately, this is to say that the success of macroeconomic reforms must be measured not by the strength of the CBN’s balance sheet but by the wellbeing of the Nigerian people.
Historically, unlike our dear country, countries that consistently build substantial foreign exchange reserves do so on the back of strong economic fundamentals. The fact is that they maintain sustained trade surpluses, export diversified products, attract large volumes of long-term foreign direct investment (FDI), develop globally competitive manufacturing industries and continuously improve productivity.
Nigeria, unfortunately, still struggles on nearly all these fronts. The country’s export earnings remain overwhelmingly dependent on crude oil. Non-oil exports remain relatively insignificant. Value-added manufacturing exports are weak. Another area that raises concern is agriculture, which continues to export mostly raw commodities rather than higher-value processed products despite being known previously as the country’s mainstay. With all these so-called developments, Nigeria still imports refined petroleum products, machinery, pharmaceuticals, industrial inputs and even food that could be produced locally.
This naturally raises an uncomfortable but legitimate question that requires an answer. Yes, it would be necessary to ask: How exactly has Nigeria grown and accumulated over $40 billion in net foreign exchange reserves without the structural fundamentals that typically support such reserve growth?
The apex bank has continued to credit exchange-rate reforms, improved transparency, stronger investor confidence and increased diaspora remittances. Well, it would be said that these achievements deserve recognition.
However, they do not completely explain the scale or, more importantly, the sustainability of the reserve accumulation.
Nigeria has not consistently recorded the large trade surpluses associated with countries that rapidly accumulate reserves. Oil production remains below historical capacity. Export diversification remains limited. Ease of doing business continues to be constrained by multiple taxation, infrastructure deficits, insecurity, policy uncertainty, logistics bottlenecks and unreliable electricity.
Without addressing these structural deficiencies, reserve accumulation risks becoming more financial than productive.
Equally important is the question of foreign direct investment. Governor Cardoso has argued that improved macroeconomic stability is attracting foreign investors. That may well be true. But confidence alone does not build factories.
The real question is how much fresh FDI has actually entered Nigeria’s productive sectors? How much has gone into manufacturing? How much into agro-processing? How much into export-oriented industries capable of generating sustainable foreign exchange earnings and creating jobs?
If reserve growth is being driven largely by short-term portfolio investments attracted by high interest rates rather than long-term productive investment, then Nigeria remains vulnerable. Portfolio investors can exit as quickly as they entered whenever global financial conditions change.
The unarguable fact is that foreign direct investment, by contrast, creates factories, expands production, develops supply chains and creates lasting employment. Nigeria desperately needs more of the latter.
The CBN also points to diaspora remittances as a growing source of reserve accumulation, projecting inflows of approximately $1 billion every month before the end of the year. Again, this is encouraging.
Again, the country will not be tired of asking questions because several of these questions deserve closer examination. How much of these remittances represent genuinely new inflows rather than funds previously routed through informal channels? Come to think of it, how much of these remittances finance productive investments instead of household consumption? Can diaspora remittances realistically become a permanent substitute for export competitiveness?
No economy has ever industrialised on remittances alone. A nation cannot sustainably depend on the sacrifices of its citizens abroad while failing to create opportunities for them at home.
Beyond the reserve figures lies another troubling contradiction. This is more disturbing because every month, FAAC distributes unprecedented sums to governments across Nigeria. Yet again, with daily regret, the average Nigerian struggles with deteriorating public services.
Honestly speaking, it has become so frustrating that the majority of the people who yearn for pleasant or attractive experiences are struggling as roads remain poor, public hospitals remain overstretched, schools continue to decline, electricity remains unreliable, water infrastructure remains inadequate, and youth unemployment remains widespread. Worst still, think of the cases as the nation continues to grapple with rising inflation, worsening poverty, declining purchasing power, struggling businesses and persistent insecurity.
One major contradiction is that if revenues continue rising while poverty deepens, then one unavoidable question must be asked: Where is the money going? Another pertinent question: How can the citizens be surrounded by water and still suffer from thirst or soap lather in their eyes?
This has been the predominant worry in the minds of many even as the World Bank itself acknowledges this disconnect. While praising recent macroeconomic reforms for improving fiscal stability, strengthening foreign reserves and restoring investor confidence, it concludes emphatically that the gains have not translated into meaningful improvements in living standards.
Ironically, despite the claims of declining inflation, it continues to erode purchasing power. Social protection remains weak. Most Nigerians remain trapped in low-productivity informal employment.
One contradicting and astonishing step taken recently is nowhere more evident than in the Central Bank’s monetary policy. Consider this: despite a marginal decline in headline inflation to 15.91 per cent in June 2026, the Monetary Policy Committee retained the benchmark Monetary Policy Rate (MPR) at 26.5 per cent, alongside a 45 per cent Cash Reserve Ratio (CRR) for commercial banks.
The decision reflects understandable caution. The CBN remains concerned that escalating geopolitical tensions in the Middle East could increase global energy prices, worsen imported inflation and reverse recent gains in price stability.
From a monetary policy perspective, this caution is defensible. But from the standpoint of businesses and households, the consequences are profound. An interest rate of 26.5 per cent inevitably translates into prohibitively expensive bank lending.
The ripple and adverse effects have led to manufacturers struggling to finance expansion. Another tough aspect is seeing the small and medium-sized enterprises, the backbone of employment generation, find access to affordable credit increasingly difficult. Entrepreneurs postpone investments. Factories delay expansion. Potential employers reduce hiring. Economic growth slows.
Ironically, while it is understandable that high interest rates may help stabilise inflation and attract foreign portfolio inflows that support reserves, it should be made known that they simultaneously suppress domestic investment, production and job creation.
In other words, the same policies helping strengthen the country’s macroeconomic indicators may also be constraining the real economy. Even the celebrated decline in inflation deserves closer scrutiny.
The national inflation rate may have eased marginally to 15.91 per cent, but this national average masks severe hardship across much of the country, which continues to create perpetual pain.
How best can this be figured out if data from the National Bureau of Statistics show that 19 states and the Federal Capital Territory recorded inflation rates exceeding 30 per cent, with Niger State above 42 percent and Kogi State exceeding 41 per cent?
Food inflation continues to rise, driven by increases in the prices of tomatoes, pepper, beef, yams, garri and other staple foods.
Businesses themselves remain unconvinced. The Organised Private Sector has welcomed the marginal moderation in inflation but insists that prices remain painfully high for both consumers and businesses.
Leaders of small business associations argue that market realities tell a different story from headline statistics. For millions of Nigerians, inflation is not measured by percentages. It is measured by empty shopping baskets. By reduced meal portions. By businesses shutting their doors. By families withdrawing children from school. By postponed medical treatments.
From a theoretical standpoint, macroeconomic stability is undoubtedly necessary. Without it, sustainable development is impossible. But it would also be agreed that macroeconomic stability alone is not sufficient. It can be argued further that economic reforms must eventually improve household incomes, reduce poverty, expand productive employment and raise living standards.
Otherwise, they risk becoming reforms that look impressive in economic reports but remain invisible in everyday life.
The truth remains that with the current situation, Nigeria therefore stands at a critical pivotal moment and the decisions taken now will determine its future.
The current reserve position should not become a destination for celebration but a foundation for deeper structural transformation. The country must diversify exports beyond crude oil. Strengthen manufacturing. Promote value-added agricultural exports. Improve electricity supply. Reduce the cost of doing business. Expand logistics infrastructure. Attract long-term productive investment.
In addition, support local industries with affordable financing. Strengthen institutions. Improve governance and ensure greater accountability for public spending. Only then will rising reserves translate into rising prosperity. Only then will record FAAC allocations produce visible development. Only then will macroeconomic stability become household stability.
The ultimate measure of economic success is not the number of dollars held in the Central Bank’s vaults. It is whether parents can afford school fees and housing rent. Whether young graduates can find decent jobs. Whether businesses can borrow, produce and expand. Whether families can afford food without sacrificing nutrition. Whether citizens feel that economic growth includes them.
Until those questions receive positive answers, one uncomfortable question will continue to linger. Who Is Nigeria’s Economy Serving Today?
Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos and can be reached via: bl***********@***il.com


