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The Unspiritual Side Of Aso Villa

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By Femi Adesina

Let me begin with two clarifications. Aso Villa is not my home, I am just passing through. Even this world is nobody’s home, we are just birds of passage. So, let nobody turn up his nose in derision, and say; “he’s writing like the landlord of Aso Villa, defending a place where’s he’s just a tenant.” Yes, nobody is landlord in the Villa, not even rational presidents. They can only live there for maximum of eight years, if Nigerians so decide. And for me, my treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue. The angels only need to beckon me from Heaven’s open door, and I wouldn’t feel at home in this world anymore.

The second clarification. Let nobody, particularly on social media, begin to insinuate that Femi Adesina is at war with Reuben Abati, his immediate predecessor as presidential spokesman. This piece you are beginning to read is not about Abati as a person, it is about his spiritual ideas and convictions, which I think need some appraisal, as they are rather unspiritual. Abati and myself have been professional colleagues for almost 30 years, we have a lot of mutual friends, and know how to reach each other when necessary. So, this is not a case of Muhammadu Buhari’s spokesman being at war with Goodluck Jonathan’s spokesman. What for?

In his piece in The Guardian of October 14, 2016, Abati wrote under the headline, ‘The spiritual side of Aso Villa.’ What were his conclusions? For the benefit of those who did not read the highly entertaining piece (in fact, there were moments I had my two legs in the air, laughing, as I read), let me do a brief summary. Call it ‘gospel’ according to Abati, and you would be right: There is some form of witchcraft, which causes occupants of Aso Villa to take weird decisions. Working in the Villa makes you susceptible to some sort of evil influences, because there is something supernatural about power and closeness to it. Some of those who lived or worked in the Villa had something dying under their waists (for the men), while some of the women became merchants of dildo, because they had suffered a special kind of deaths in their homes. “The ones who did not have such misfortune had one ailment or the other that they had to nurse. From cancer to brain and prostate surgery and whatever, the Villa was a hospital full of agonizing patients,” Abati posited.

Reading the piece through, you would think Aso Villa was nothing but what Godfrey Chaucer called “a thoroughfare of woes.” In fact, Abati submitted that the Villa “should be converted into a spiritual museum, and abandoned.” Holy Moses! Jumping Jehoshaphat!

If Aso Villa was such a haunted house, why then do most occupants like to stay put, right from the first tenant, Ibrahim Babangida, who was virtually forced to step aside in August 1993? And why did Goodluck Jonathan, Abati’s principal, spend money in trillions (in different currencies of the world), just to perpetuate himself in a house that consumes its occupants? Being a literary scholar, Abati would remember the doctor in Macbeth, that work of William Shakespeare, who was detailed to cure Lady Macbeth of the neurosis that afflicted her, after she had been party to the deaths of King Duncan and Banquo, so that her husband would be the king of Scotland. A spiritually troubled Lady Macbeth sleepwalked every night, trying to wash her hands of the innocent blood that had been shed. The doctor was so fed up with the terrifying atmosphere, that he said to himself: “Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, profit should hardly again draw me here.” Did Abati ever say the same of the Villa, a place where men became women “after something died below their waists?” We do not have it on record that Abati showed a clean pair of heels, or that he would not have stayed if Dr Jonathan had won re-election, and had asked him to continue in his position as adviser on media. Or was it the case of eternal fascination for the thing that repelled and terrified you? Mysterium tremendum et fascinas, as it is called in Latin.

For me, what Abati did in the October 14 piece was simply a glorification and deification of superstition, something that attempted to elevate works of darkness above the powers of God. The writer merely fed the cravings and propensity of people for the supernatural, in a way that stoked and kindled the kiln of fear, rather than that of faith.

Let’s take the issues one after the other, and look at them against true spiritual principles. Christianity is the one I am most familiar with, and that would be my benchmark.

In Aso Villa, houses were haunted, people were oppressed into taking curious decisions, they fell ill, died, or suffered the losses of loved ones, so Abati claimed. Are such peculiar only to the presidential villa? Should all those who live or work there automatically enjoy immunity from the vicissitudes of life, simply because they walked the corridors of power? Wasn’t President Umaru Yar’Adua right inside the presidential villa, when he told us on national television: “I am a human being. I can fall sick. I can recover. And I can die.” That was a practical man for you. Abati unwittingly wants his readers to believe that once you operated in or around Aso Villa, you became a superman. No. You are as mortal as can be. The Holy Bible does not even give us such leeway. “There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man…”(1 Cor 10:13). There are certain things common to man, and they can happen to you wherever you are. At the White House. At 10, Downing Street. Buckingham Palace, Aso Villa. Wherever. “But such as is common to man…” Let no man feed us with the bogey that such things happen because of where you live or operate from. There are some things that are just common to man, and which may happen to you as long as you are on this side of eternity.

I lost my sister in a road crash last year. She was a professor of Dramatic Arts at the Obafemi Awolowo University in Ile-Ife. Abati knew her well, as they both did post-graduate studies at University of Ibadan in the 1980s. Abati was among those who called to condole with me. My sister never visited the Villa in her lifetime. Even if she did, that could never have had anything to do with her death on the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway. To believe and teach otherwise is to carry superstition to ridiculous level, and venerate the Devil, granting him omnipotence, an attribute that belongs to God only. For the Devil, doing evil is full-time business and whether you had anything to do with Aso Villa or not, he continued with his pernicious acts. Does that then suggest that mankind is helpless before evil? No. God still has ultimate powers. He can spare you “as a father spares the son that serves him.” (Malachi 3:17). If you are under the pavilion of God, sleep, wake and operate daily in Aso Villa, you are covered, no matter the evil that lurks around, if any. There is a better covenant established on greater promises, and that is the canopy under which you should function. God can spare you from all evils, and if He permits any other thing, it is “such as is common to man,” and not because of Aso Villa.

If houses catch fire in the Villa, how many conflagrations occur in other parts of the city? If some men in the Villa suffered erectile dysfunction in Abati’s time, doesn’t the Journal of Sexual Medicine tell us that about 20 million American men have something that has died under their waists? It is one thing that became prevalent in the last two to three decades, due to modern lifestyle. Causes range from age, to stress, depression, anxiety, alcohol, medication, and several others. Even, a study showed that watching too much television kills something under the waist. So why does Abati make it seem as if it is a copyright of Aso Villa?

Now, another clarification. Don’t I believe in demonic infestation and manifestation? I sure do. I wouldn’t be a student of the Holy Bible if I don’t. Jesus talked of the man who got delivered from demonic possession, and because that man did not yield himself to a better influence, the evil spirit that inhabited him came back with seven more powerful spirits, and the end of the man was worse than his beginning. Abati wrote of persons in the Villa, “walking upside down, head to the ground.” Let me share this story I heard over 20 years ago. There was this young Christian who gave scant regards to demons and what they could do. In fact, he almost didn’t believe demons existed. One day, as he walked along the ever busy Broad Street in Lagos, God opened his spiritual eyes. Some people were walking on their heads! And not only that, as they passed by other people, they slapped them with the soles of their feet. If you got so slapped, you developed an affliction, which you would nurse for the rest of your life. Yet, you never knew where it came from.

As the young man saw that vision and got its spiritual explanation, he began to s-c-r-e-a-m. Was that in Aso Villa? “Such as is common to man…” Evil exists everywhere. Trying to source and locate it in Aso Villa is disingenuous. You need God everywhere. In Europe, Asia, America, Oceania, Aso Villa. There is evil everywhere, and we need not make fetish of any place as being more evil infested than other places. Since Satan got thrown out of Heaven due to his inordinate ambition, evil had resided in the world. “How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations!” (Isaiah 14:12). The Devil lives in the world, but God is never helpless before evil. He will never be. Let the Devil commit suicide if he is not happy about that fact. God rules!

If every principal officer including the President and his wife suffered series of tragedies as Abati claimed, and he himself had breathing problems, and walked with the aid of crutches for months, it was ” such as is common to man” and not necessarily because they were in Aso Villa. But of course, if such people put their hands in evil, possibly to gain some things in power or perpetuate themselves beyond the time heaven granted, then “he who rolls a stone, a stone shall be rolled back to him. He that digs a pit, shall fall into it.” That is what the Good Book says. You can then hardly blame Aso Villa for such payback time, can you?

To avoid getting sucked into what Abati calls “the cloud of evil” that hangs around power, what to do is to hold ephemeral things loosely. Know that they are temporal, and will truly end. Power is one of such things. Will anybody be a permanent landlord at Aso Villa? It would be foolhardy to have such mindset. A couple of times I’d had some private discussions with President Buhari, and he had lamented the state of the nation, he invariably ended with the statement, “while we are here, we will do our best.” It shows a man who knows that he’s not a permanent landlord at Aso Villa, and can never be. He would use the opportunity he has to do his best for Nigeria, and then move on. That is a good mindset, and a safety valve from getting sucked into “the cloud of evil.” Daily, I tell myself that I am just passing through Aso Villa. And while there, just like my principal, I will do my best. It could be long, it could be short, depending on God and the man who appointed me, but one day, it would be over, and some other people would come in to do their bit. It is inexorable. The real treasures are laid somewhere beyond the blue.

Abati says we should pray before people pack their things into Aso Villa. I say not just Aso Villa, but everywhere. Pray before you pack into any place, because there are some things “such as is common to man.” It is only God that keeps from such. And He is sovereign in terms of what He prevents, and in what He allows. Ours is to pray, and believe. Prayer works.

“Aso Villa is in urgent need of redemption. I never slept in the apartment they gave me in that Villa for an hour,” wrote Abati. Well, different strokes for different folks. Hear what the Good Book says: “It is vain for you to rise up early, to sit up late, to eat the bread of sorrows; for so he giveth his beloved sleep.” Here am I. For over one year, I have lived in the house allocated to me at the Villa. I sleep so soundly, I even snore. In fact, I snore so loud that at times, I wake myself up with the sound.

Adesina is Special Adviser on Media and Publicity to President Muhammadu Buhari

Dipo Olowookere is a journalist based in Nigeria that has passion for reporting business news stories. At his leisure time, he watches football and supports 3SC of Ibadan. Mr Olowookere can be reached via [email protected]

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Mr President, Please Reconsider -No to State Police

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By Abba Dukawa

Nigeria stands today at a painful and defining crossroads in its security journey. Across the nation, families live with growing fear as insecurity spreads—kidnappings, banditry, and terrorism have become harsh realities in too many communities. These threats do not respect state boundaries. Organised criminal networks move across states, leaving ordinary citizens feeling exposed and abandoned.

Nigerians are facing intertwined challenges. The anger is no longer whispered in private—it is now spoken openly with frustration and worry. Another pressing issue confronting Nigerians is the renewed debate over the creation of state police. When will the federal government strengthen the effectiveness of its security agencies? How much longer must communities endure this uncertainty?

At the same time, another urgent debate rises from the hearts of the people. In the face of this deepening crisis, should state governments be allowed to establish their own police forces to protect their citizens? Or will Nigeria continue to rely solely on a centralised system that many believe is struggling to respond quickly enough to local threats?

These are not just political questions. They are questions of safety, dignity, and the right of every Nigerian to live without fear. The nation is waiting, hoping for bold decisions that will restore trust, strengthen security, and protect the future of its people.  State police cannot be the answer to these pressing issues that bedevil federal security agencies.

Recently, the President appealed to the leadership of the National Assembly to consider constitutional amendments that would create a legal framework for state police, arguing that such reform is necessary to address Nigeria’s worsening security challenges. The fragmented policing structure could complicate efforts to combat crime effectively.

Reigniting the debate over state police comes as no surprise, given that he has long been seen as an advocate for the idea since his tenure as Governor of Lagos State. He supported the concept then and has continued to promote it as President. Many Nigerians, particularly in the South-West, have long called for state police as a means to address the country’s growing insecurity. Despite the constitutional considerations, discussions around state police continue to evoke strong emotions nationwide.

How will state police address security breaches committed by local militias or vigilante groups such as the OPC in the Southwestern states? What actions would state police take regarding the Amotekun group, which is openly endorsed by Southwest governors, if it were to commit serious violations of the rights of citizens, especially those from other parts of the country? How quickly have the proponents of state police chosen to erase from memory the horrific atrocities the OPC inflicted on the Northern community in Lagos in February 2002? The scars of that tragedy are still raw, yet some behave as though it never happened—as if the pain and the lives lost meant nothing. It is a bitter betrayal of justice and our collective conscience.

Reintroducing this issue at a time when the federal security apparatus is already strained shows a lack of sensitivity. Proponents overlook that Section 214(1) clearly states there is only one police force for the federation, the Nigeria Police Force and no other police force may be established for any part of the federation. The section does not permit the establishment of state police. Policing is on the Exclusive Legislative List, meaning only the federal government can create or control a police force.

Even today, the Nigeria Police Force, under the centralised command of the Inspector-General, faces accusations of harassment and intimidation of the weak and vulnerable citizens. If such problems persist under federal control, imagine the risks of placing police authority under state governors, who already wield significant influence over state and local structures.

Implications For The State Police Structures In The Hand Of The State Governors

I must state clearly: I do not support the establishment of state police—at least not at this stage of Nigeria’s development. Our institutions remain fragile, and introducing such a system carries significant risks of abuse. History offers reasons for caution: the Native Authority police of the past were often linked to political repression and misuse of power.

Supporters argue that state police would bring law enforcement closer to local communities and improve response to crime. However, there are serious concerns rooted in Nigeria’s social realities.

Nigeria is a diverse nation with multiple ethnic and religious sentiments. If recruitment into state police forces becomes dominated by particular groups, minority communities may feel marginalised or threatened.

State police could deepen divisions and weaken public trust. State-controlled Police could also become instruments of political intimidation, especially during election periods, potentially targeting opposition figures, critics, and journalists.

Financial capacity is another major concern. Establishing and maintaining a professional police force requires substantial investment in training, equipment, salaries, welfare, and infrastructure. Many states already struggle to pay workers and provide essential services. How, then, can they adequately fund a state police? The likely outcome is poorly trained, under-equipped personnel—conditions that often foster corruption and inefficiency.

Even under federal oversight, Nigeria’s police system struggles with weak accountability and abuse of power. Transferring these weaknesses to the state level without safeguards could have severe consequences.

A poorly structured state police force could become loyal to governors rather than the Constitution, serving political interests rather than citizens’ interests. For these reasons, introducing state police, even with the constitutional amendment, could create more problems than it solves. Sustainability, accountability, and adherence to constitutional principles are critical and will likely be violated

Nigeria must strengthen law enforcement while protecting citizens’ rights and preserving national unity.  Mr President, please reconsider your decision on state police. Nigerians want a strong, effective, and unified police force, not one that risks further dividing a system already struggling to meet its constitutional obligations.

Dukawa can be reached at ab**********@***il.com

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Measures at Ensuring Africa’s Food Sovereignty

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By Kestér Kenn Klomegâh

China’s investments in Africa have primarily been in the agricultural sector, reinforcing its support for the continent to attain food security for the growing population, estimated currently at 1.5 billion people. With a huge expanse of land and untapped resources, China’s investment in agriculture, focused on increasing local production, has been described as highly appreciable.

Brazil has adopted a similar strategy in its policy with African countries; its investments have concentrated in a number of countries, especially those rich in natural resources. It has significantly contributed to Africa’s economic growth by improving access to affordable machinery, industrial inputs, and adding value to consumer goods. Thus, Africa has to reduce product imports which can be produced locally.

The China and Brazil in African Agriculture Project has just published online a series of studies concerning Chinese and Brazilian support for African agriculture. They appeared in an upcoming issue of World Development.  The six articles focusing on China are available below:

–A New Politics of Development Cooperation? Chinese and Brazilian Engagements in African Agriculture by Ian Scoones, Kojo Amanor, Arilson Favareto and Qi Gubo.

–South-South Cooperation, Agribusiness and African Agricultural Development: Brazil and China in Ghana and Mozambique by Kojo Amanor and Sergio Chichava.

–Chinese State Capitalism? Rethinking the Role of the State and Business in Chinese Development Cooperation in Africa by Jing Gu, Zhang Chuanhong, Alcides Vaz and Langton Mukwereza.

–Chinese Migrants in Africa: Facts and Fictions from the Agri-food Sector in Ethiopia and Ghana by Seth Cook, Jixia Lu, Henry Tugendhat and Dawit Alemu.

–Chinese Agricultural Training Courses for African Officials: Between Power and Partnerships by Henry Tugendhat and Dawit Alemu.

–Science, Technology and the Politics of Knowledge: The Case of China’s Agricultural Technology Demonstration Centres in Africa by Xiuli Xu, Xiaoyun Li, Gubo Qi, Lixia Tang and Langton Mukwereza.

 Strategic partnerships and the way forward: African leaders have to adopt import substitution policies, re-allocate financial resources toward attaining domestic production, and sustain self-sufficiency.

Maximising the impact of resource mobilisation requires collaboration among governments, key external partners, investment promotion agencies, financial institutions, and the private sector. Partnerships must be aligned with national development priorities that can promote value addition, support industrialisation, and deepen regional and continental integration.

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Recapitalisation Without Transformation is a Risk Nigeria Cannot Afford

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By Blaise Udunze

In barely two weeks, Nigeria’s banking sector will once again be at a historic turning point. As the deadline for the latest recapitalisation exercise approaches on March 31, 2026, with no fewer than 31 banks having met the new capital rule, leaving out two that are reportedly awaiting verification. As exercise progresses and draws to an end, policymakers are optimistic that stronger banks will anchor financial stability and support the country’s ambition of building a $1 trillion economy.

The reform, driven by the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) under Governor Olayemi Cardoso, requires banks to significantly raise their capital thresholds, which are set at N500 billion for international banks, N200 billion for national banks, and N50 billion for regional lenders. According to the apex bank, 33 banks have already tapped the capital market through rights issues and public offerings; collectively, the total verified and approved capital raised by the banks amounts to N4.05 trillion.

No doubt, at first glance, the strategy definitely appears straightforward with the idea that bigger capital means stronger banks, and stronger banks should finance economic growth. But history offers a cautionary reminder that capital alone does not guarantee resilience, as it would be recalled that Nigeria has travelled this road before.

During the 2004-2005 consolidation led by former CBN Governor Charles Soludo, the number of banks in the country shrank dramatically from 89 to 25. The reform created larger institutions that were celebrated as national champions. The truth is that Nigeria has been here before because, despite all said and done, barely five years later, the banking system plunged into crisis, forcing regulatory intervention, bailouts, and the creation of the Asset Management Corporation of Nigeria (AMCON) to absorb toxic assets.

The lesson from that experience is simple in the sense that recapitalisation without structural reform only postpones deeper problems.

Today, as banks race to meet the new capital thresholds, the real question is not how much capital has been raised but whether the reform will transform the fundamentals of Nigerian banking. The underlying fact is that if the exercise merely inflates balance sheets without addressing deeper vulnerabilities, Nigeria risks repeating a familiar cycle of apparent stability followed by systemic stress, as the resultant effect will be distressed banks less capable of bringing the economy out of the woods.

The real measure of success is far simpler. That is to say, stronger banks must stimulate economic productivity, stabilise the financial system, and expand access to credit for businesses and households. Anything less will amount to a missed opportunity.

One of the most critical issues surrounding the recapitalisation drive is the quality of the capital being raised.

Nigeria’s banking sector has reportedly secured more than N4.5 trillion in new capital commitments across different categories of banks. No doubt, on paper, these numbers may appear impressive. Going by the trends of events in Nigeria’s economy, numbers alone can be deceptive.

Past recapitalisation cycles revealed troubling practices, whereby funds raised through related-party transactions, borrowed money disguised as equity, or complex financial arrangements that recycled risks back into the banking system. If such practices resurface, recapitalisation becomes little more than an accounting exercise.

To avert a repeat of failure, the CBN must therefore ensure that every naira raised represents genuine, loss-absorbing capital. Transparency around capital sources, ownership structures, and funding arrangements must be non-negotiable. Without credible capital, balance sheet strength becomes an illusion that will make every recapitalisation exercise futile.

In financial systems, credibility is itself a form of capital. If there is one recurring factor behind banking crises in Nigeria, it is corporate governance failure.

Many past collapses were not triggered by global shocks but by insider lending, weak board oversight, excessive executive power, and poor risk culture. Recapitalisation provides regulators with a rare opportunity to reset governance standards across the industry.

Boards must be independent not only in structure but also in substance. Risk committees must be empowered to challenge executive decisions. Insider lending rules must be enforced without compromise because, over the years, they have proven to be an anathema against the stability of the financial sector. The stakes are high.

When governance fails, fresh capital can quickly become fresh fuel for old excesses. Without governance reform, recapitalisation risks reinforcing the very weaknesses it seeks to eliminate.

Another structural vulnerability lies in Nigeria’s increasing amount of non-performing loans (NPLs), which recently caused the CBN to raise concerns, as Nigeria experiences a rise in bad loans threatening banking stability.

Industry data suggests that the banking sector’s NPL ratio has climbed above the prudential benchmark of 5 per cent, reaching roughly 7 per cent in recent assessments. Many of these troubled loans are concentrated in sectors such as oil and gas, power, and government-linked infrastructure projects, alongside other factors such as FX instability, high interest rates, and the withdrawal of Covid-era forbearance, which threaten bank stability.

While regulatory forbearance has helped maintain short-term stability, it has also obscured deeper asset-quality concerns. A credible recapitalisation process must confront this reality directly.

Loan classification standards must reflect economic truth rather than regulatory convenience. Banks should not carry impaired assets indefinitely while presenting healthy balance sheets to investors and depositors.

Transparency about asset quality strengthens trust. Concealment destroys it. Few forces have disrupted Nigerian bank balance sheets in recent years as severely as exchange-rate volatility.

Many banks still operate with significant foreign exchange mismatches, borrowing short-term in foreign currencies while lending long-term to clients earning revenues in naira. When the naira depreciates sharply, these mismatches can erode capital faster than any credit loss.

Recapitalisation must therefore be accompanied by stricter supervision of foreign exchange exposure, as this part calls for the regulator to heighten its supervision. Banks should be required to disclose currency risks more transparently and undergo rigorous stress testing at intervals that assume adverse currency scenarios rather than best-case outcomes. In a structurally import-dependent economy, ignoring FX risk is no longer an option.

Nigeria’s banking system has long been characterised by excessive concentration in a few sectors and corporate clients, which calls for adequate monitoring and the need to be addressed quickly for the recapitalisation drive to yield maximum results.

Growth in most advanced economies comes from the small and medium-sized enterprises that are well-funded. Anything short of this undermines it, since the concentration of huge loans to large oil and gas companies, government-related entities, and major conglomerates absorbs a disproportionate share of bank lending. This has continued to pose a major threat to the system, as the case is with small and medium-sized enterprises, the backbone of job creation, which remain chronically underfinanced. This imbalance weakens the economy.

Recapitalisation should therefore be tied to policies that encourage credit diversification and risk-sharing mechanisms that allow banks to lend more confidently to productive sectors such as agriculture, manufacturing, and technology rather than investing their funds into the government’s securities. Bigger banks that remain narrowly exposed do not strengthen the economy. They amplify its fragilities.

Nigeria’s macroeconomic conditions, which are its broad economic settings, are defined by frequent and sometimes sharp changes or instability rather than stability.

Inflation shocks, interest-rate swings, fiscal pressures, and currency adjustments are not rare disruptions; but they have now become a normal part of the economic environment. Despite all these adverse factors, many banks still operate risk models that assume relative stability. Perhaps unbeknownst to the stakeholders, this disconnect is dangerous.

Owing to possible shocks, and when banks increase their capital (recapitalisation), it is required that banks adopt more sophisticated risk-management frameworks capable of withstanding severe economic scenarios, with the expectation that stronger banks should also have stronger systems to manage risks and survive economic crises. In Nigeria today, every financial institution’s stress testing must be performed in the face of the economy facing severe shocks like currency depreciation, sovereign debt pressures, and sudden interest-rate spikes.

Risk management should evolve from a compliance obligation into a strategic discipline embedded in every lending decision.

Public confidence in the banking system depends heavily on credible financial reporting.

Investors, analysts, and depositors need to be able to understand banks’ true financial positions without navigating non-transparent disclosures or creative accounting practices, which means the industry must be liberated to an extent that gives room for access to information.

Recapitalisation provides an opportunity to strengthen the enforcement of international financial reporting standards, enhance audit quality, and require clearer disclosure of capital adequacy, asset quality, and related-party transactions. Transparency should not be feared. It is the foundation of trust.

One thing that must be corrected is that while recapitalisation often focuses on financial metrics, the banking sector ultimately runs on human capital.

Another fearful aspect of this exercise for the economy is that consolidation and mergers triggered by the reform could lead to workforce disruptions if not carefully managed. Job losses, casualisation, and declining staff morale can weaken institutional culture and productivity. Strong banks are built by strong people.

If recapitalisation strengthens balance sheets while destabilising the workforce that powers the system, the reform risks undermining its own economic objectives. Human capital stability must therefore form part of the broader reform strategy.

Doubtless, another emerging shift in Nigeria’s financial landscape is the rise of digital financial platforms that are increasingly changing how people access and use money in Nigeria.

Millions of Nigerians are increasingly relying on fintech platforms for payments, microloans, and everyday financial transactions. One of the advantages it offers is that these services often deliver faster and more user-friendly experiences than traditional banks. While innovation is welcome, it raises important questions about the future structure of financial intermediation.

The point here is that the moment traditional banks retreat from retail banking while fintech platforms dominate customer interactions, systemic liquidity and regulatory oversight could become fragmented.

The CBN must see to it that the recapitalised banks must therefore invest aggressively in digital infrastructure, cybersecurity, and customer experience, while cutting down costs on all less critical areas in the industry.

Nigerians should feel the benefits of recapitalisation not only in stronger balance sheets but also in faster apps, reliable payment systems, and responsive customer service.

As banks grow larger through recapitalisation and consolidation, a new challenge emerges via systemic concentration.

Nigeria’s largest banks already control a significant share of industry assets. Further consolidation could deepen the divide between dominant institutions and smaller players. This creates the risk of “too-big-to-fail” banks whose collapse could threaten the entire financial system.

To address this risk, regulators must strengthen resolution frameworks that allow distressed banks to fail without triggering systemic panic, their collapse does not damage the whole financial system, and do not require taxpayer-funded bailouts to forestall similar mistakes that occurred with the liquidation of Heritage Bank.  Market discipline depends on credible failure mechanisms.

It must be understood that Nigeria’s banking recapitalisation is not merely a financial exercise or, better still, increasing banks’ capital. It is a rare opportunity to rebuild trust, strengthen governance, and reposition the financial system as a true engine of economic development.

One fact is that if the reform focuses only on capital numbers, the country risks repeating a familiar pattern of churning out impressive balance sheets followed by another cycle of crisis.

But the actors in this exercise must ensure that the recapitalisation addresses governance failures, asset quality concerns, risk management weaknesses, and transparency gaps; and the moment this is done, the banking sector could emerge stronger and more resilient.

Nigeria does not simply need bigger banks. It needs better banks, institutions capable of financing innovation, supporting entrepreneurs, and building economic opportunity for millions of citizens.

The true capital of any banking system is not just money. It is trust. And whether this recapitalisation ultimately succeeds will depend on whether Nigerians see that trust reflected not only in financial statements but in the everyday experience of saving, borrowing, and investing in the economy. Only then will bigger banks translate into a stronger nation.

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

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