Tag: Magnus Onyibe

  • NNPC’s moribund refineries and the case for privatization – By Magnus Onyibe

    NNPC’s moribund refineries and the case for privatization – By Magnus Onyibe

    The Nigerian National Petroleum Company Limited (NNPC) is once again in the spotlight, not for efficiency, but for the lingering question: should Nigeria sell its comatose refineries or keep wasting money on them?

    Reports in the public space indicate that in the past three years, about half a billion dollars have been sunk into rehabilitating the Port Harcourt and Warri refineries, yet they remain idle. Even Aliko Dangote, whose private refinery is the continent’s largest, has dismissed them as “scrap.” Still, government funds continue to be poured into these obsolete plants—a practice likened to flogging a dead horse.

    This mismanagement has now triggered deeper cracks. The NNPC workforce—over 5,500 strong—is threatening a nationwide strike over alleged irregularities, while confusion surrounds the purported resignation of Group Managing Director, Bayo Ojulari, who later denied stepping down. The episode underscores the mounting crisis in the oil giant.

    Ojulari has hinted at the obvious solution: selling the refineries. With a combined capacity of 445,000 barrels per day—smaller than the 650,000 barrels of the Dangote refinery—these facilities have consistently failed despite repeated injections of public funds. Meanwhile, Nigeria’s private sector has demonstrated the capacity to deliver results, as seen in telecoms and power generation after government divestment.

    The refineries are plagued by outdated infrastructure, mismatched imported parts, and ballooning maintenance costs. Experts argue that privatization would spur competition, stabilize fuel supply, strengthen the naira by reducing forex demand for imports, and ease the government’s financial burden. And potential buyers already exist: independent marketers, modular refinery operators, and possibly Dangote Refinery.

    The case for privatization isn’t new. In August 2023, I argued in this column that selling the refineries was the only logical step under “Tinubunomics: Time To Sell The Petroleum Refineries.” After over N11 trillion wasted on maintenance between 2010 and 2020, the facilities remain deadweight. Labor unions continue to demand their rehabilitation, but this is neither realistic nor sustainable.

    Saudi Aramco and Brazil’s Petrobras long ago shifted focus to more viable projects, leaving inefficient state-run refineries behind. Nigeria must do the same. The longer the government delays, the deeper the crisis within NNPC will fester.

    The choice before President Tinubu’s administration is simple: either keep wasting billions propping up dead refinery assets or allow private investors to take over, revive them, and deliver results.

    It was the Greek philosopher Heraclitus who famously said: “Everything changes, and nothing stands still.” Unfortunately, the last leadership at NNPCL seemed resistant to change, clinging to old, unproductive refineries that have drained Nigeria’s scarce resources for decades.

    Most of the socio-economic problems confronting the current administration are not new; many stretch back forty years, while others are as recent as three. That is why I often revisit my archive of past writings, where proposed solutions to recurring crises remain relevant but unimplemented. One such crisis is the persistent dysfunction at the Nigerian National Petroleum Company Limited (NNPCL).

    Modeled after global energy giants like Saudi Aramco and Brazil’s Petrobras, NNPCL has struggled since its inception. Established in 1971 as the Nigerian National Oil Company (NNOC), it became NNPC in 1977. Yet, despite its strategic importance, it has consistently failed to operate with the efficiency expected of a national oil company.
    Below is the article l wrote and published dwelling on the same matter on 15 August 2023 which is about three (3) years ago.
    Strikingly, it appears to have become inevitable that I keep falling back on my old articles to address current issues. That is perhaps because” The more things change,  the more they remain the same. That is according to Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr, a French critic, journalist, and writer.
    Nevertheless, I am reproducing this roughly two-year-old piece which is more or less an advisory with the hope that it might catch the interest of a patriotic leader who wants the best for Nigeria.
    Here we go:

    “Tinubunomics: Time To Sell The Petroleum Refineries ” originally published on 15 August 2023.

    The first loud alarm in recent years came from Tony Elumelu, Chairman of Heirs Holdings. In 2021, his company invested $1.1 billion to acquire a 45% stake in OML 17, with NNPCL holding the remaining 55% on behalf of Nigerians. To his shock, by 2022, he discovered that much of the crude oil from his wells never reached its intended destination. Instead, thieves had perfected the art of siphoning crude from pipelines like Escravos, diverting Nigeria’s wealth into shadowy networks.

    Oil theft remains one of the greatest drains on the economy. Vessels carrying stolen crude routinely evade security agencies, costing the nation badly needed foreign exchange. In a Financial Times interview, Elumelu lamented that theft accounts for about 18% of production. His frustration was evident: “This is oil theft, not stealing a bottle of Coke. The government should know who is behind this. In the U.S., when Donald Trump was shot at, the authorities quickly identified the assailant. Our security agencies should be able to tell us who is stealing our oil. How can vessels enter our territorial waters without our knowledge?”

    Responding to these concerns, the Chief of Defence Staff, General Chris Musa, set up a special task force to crack down on oil theft syndicates. Their efforts have yielded some progress, enabling NNPCL to project an increase in production from 1.3 million to 2 million barrels per day in the coming year.

    Aliko Dangote, Nigeria’s most prominent investor in the downstream sector, has raised another set of concerns. Despite completing his $19.5 billion refinery with a massive 650,000-barrel daily capacity, he faces difficulty accessing crude feedstock. According to Dangote Refinery’s Vice President, Devakumar Edwin, International Oil Companies (IOCs) are deliberately starving the refinery of supply, directing buyers instead to their international trading arms.

    Edwin detailed how Dangote Refinery has been forced to pay inflated premiums for Nigerian crude, sometimes significantly above market benchmarks. For instance, a cargo of Bonga crude was priced at $96.23 per barrel, including premiums that exceeded global rates. By contrast, U.S. WTI was available at lower adjusted costs. This distortion, Edwin explained, forced the refinery to escalate its grievances to the Nigerian Upstream Petroleum Regulatory Commission (NUPRC).

    Dangote himself has acknowledged the challenge, clarifying that while NNPCL has been cooperative, the IOCs appear reluctant to shift away from lucrative export markets. “Everyone is used to exporting,” he noted, “and nobody wants to stop.”

    In response, President Bola Tinubu has set up a committee chaired by Finance Minister Wale Edun. Its mandate: to create a framework allowing local refineries—starting with Dangote’s—to buy crude in naira. This would not only support domestic refining but also reduce pressure on the national treasury caused by the constant demand for foreign exchange to import petrol. The committee has set a target of next month to begin local petrol supply, which could mark a turning point in Nigeria’s energy security.

    The much-anticipated output from the Dangote Refinery could ease the twin burdens Nigerians currently endure—high petrol costs and endless fuel queues. Many expect President Tinubu’s intervention in the sector to bring lasting relief.

    Meanwhile, two of Nigeria’s leading entrepreneurs, Tony Elumelu and Aliko Dangote, are battling entrenched problems in the industry. Elumelu has raised alarm over rampant crude oil theft draining both his company’s revenues and Nigeria’s coffers, while Dangote is contending with International Oil Companies (IOCs) reluctant to supply his new refinery with feedstock. If resolved, these twin challenges could reposition the country’s oil and gas industry and, by extension, its economy.

    Both men’s public outcry is forcing long-overdue reforms. Their voices, added to the still-unfinished implementation of the Petroleum Industry Act (PIA) of 2021, are gradually reshaping an industry that has historically operated with little accountability.

    These developments underline the need for Nigerians to pay closer attention to the toxic politics of petroleum, given its centrality to the nation’s economy. The removal of petrol subsidies in May 2023 triggered a cost-of-living crisis that demonstrated how tightly daily life and crude oil are intertwined.

    Some may ask: are these crises new? The answer is no. Since oil was discovered in Oloibiri in 1957, theft, mismanagement, and disputes over local refining have plagued the sector. What has changed is the entry of private investors, whose capital demands efficiency and transparency. When oil operations were confined to government officials and IOCs, inefficiency flourished unchecked. But with Elumelu investing $1.1 billion in exploration and Dangote $19.5 billion in refining, their vested interests are driving a push for reform.

    Their frustration is understandable. While public officials often looked the other way when Nigeria’s 55% equity in joint ventures was undermined, Elumelu and Dangote are unwilling to accept such waste. The absence of proper metering of crude volumes, for instance, was tolerated for decades. Now, with Dangote’s refinery set to process nearly half of Nigeria’s daily crude output, accountability is no longer optional.

    Rather than viewing their agitation as disruptive, it should be welcomed. Their insistence on accountability is cleaning up a system long crippled by sabotage and bureaucratic inertia. They are, in effect, catalysts of reform in an industry that badly needs it.

    This stands in stark contrast to the government’s own track record. Four state-owned refineries have remained idle for nearly two decades, despite the reported injection of about $25 billion into “turnaround maintenance” over the past decade. Not a drop of fuel has been produced, a national disgrace that reflects a deeper absence of ownership and patriotism among public officials.

    The same negligence explains why oil theft persists on an industrial scale. The NNPC Ltd. claimed in its 2023 financial report that it spent ₦1.8 trillion on security, yet millions of barrels are still siphoned off in oceangoing vessels. The result: Nigeria continues to miss its OPEC production quotas, with devastating economic consequences.

    Former President Olusegun Obasanjo once revealed that during his administration, he invited International Oil Companies (IOCs) to help manage Nigeria’s refineries. Shell declined, bluntly stating: “There’s too much corruption with the way your refineries are run.”

    Obasanjo took this as confirmation of Nigeria’s corruption problem, but that is only half the story. The truth is that IOCs never intended to industrialize Nigeria. Their business model—rooted in colonial extraction—has always been to lift crude oil cheaply, refine it abroad, and sell it back at inflated prices.

    This legacy persists today. Despite allocating 445,000 barrels per day (bpd) for domestic refining across four state-owned refineries, all have been dormant for nearly two decades. A National Assembly probe found that $25 billion was spent on turnaround maintenance in the last decade, yet not a liter of fuel has been produced. Meanwhile, the Nigerian National Petroleum Company Limited (NNPCL) admits to spending N1.8 trillion on security, yet crude theft thrives. Oil is still stolen in massive volumes, often ferried away on ocean-going vessels, while Nigeria fails to meet its OPEC quota.

    The result is dependence on fuel imports, endless subsidy payments, and a crushing public debt now exceeding N120 trillion. A barrel of crude sells for about $100 internationally, yet Nigeria imports petrol at a landing cost of over N1,100 per liter. This is economic sabotage in plain sight.

    The commissioning of the Dangote Refinery last year was therefore a historic moment. With a capacity of 650,000 bpd, it offers Nigeria a chance to break free from dependency. Yet, IOCs have been reluctant to supply it with crude, citing foreign contracts. This resistance is telling: they are unwilling to abandon a system that has served their interests since the Berlin Conference of 1884, when Africa was partitioned for raw material extraction.

    But the blame is not only external. Nigerian leaders have tolerated inefficiency and corruption for too long. For nearly two decades, the four state-owned refineries have been nothing more than money pits. Selling them off to credible private investors is the only logical path forward.

    Encouragingly, a new generation of Nigerian energy entrepreneurs is emerging. Apart from Aliko Dangote, investors like Mike Adenuga (Conoil), Femi Otedola (Geregu), Kola Adeshina (Sahara), Benedict Peters (Aiteo), Ernest Azudialu (Nestoil), Samad Rabiu (BUA), and Julius Rone (UTM Offshore) are building capacity across exploration, refining, and gas processing. Smaller modular refineries—such as Aradel in Port Harcourt, Waltersmith in Imo, and Edo Refinery—are already producing, though at a limited scale.

    President Bola Tinubu’s directive that the 445,000 bpd domestic allocation be sold to local refineries in naira, rather than dollars, is a step in the right direction. If enforced with political will, it could transform the refining landscape and shield Nigeria from currency shocks.

    Still, entrenched interests remain powerful. The petroleum mafia, both local and foreign, thrives on maintaining the status quo. That is why it is a good thing that Dangote keeps resisting pressure to sell stakes in his refinery to the NNPCL. Instead, we should support the growth of a competitive Nigerian refining sector driven by private capital, efficiency, and accountability.

    To get there, two reforms are urgent:
    1.Privatize the moribund refineries. They have drained the treasury for decades with no results. Selling them to serious operators will inject new life into the sector.

    2.Create an independent ombudsman. Nigerians deserve a watchdog that bridges the gap between government and citizens, preventing policy missteps and rebuilding trust.

    Nigeria cannot continue exporting wealth while importing poverty. That is the focus of my forthcoming book: “Africa Exporting Wealth, Importing Poverty. Is Africa Sinking or Thinking”?

    Breaking the chains of dependence requires ending the extractive model that has defined our oil industry since independence. Energy independence through local refining is no longer optional—it is a survival strategy.

  • The 7,000 Nigerians stranded in Libya, NIDCOM, and the worth of a Nigerian life – By Magnus Onyibe

    The 7,000 Nigerians stranded in Libya, NIDCOM, and the worth of a Nigerian life – By Magnus Onyibe

    The recent revelation by Hon. Abike Dabiri-Erewa, Chairperson of the Nigerians in Diaspora Commission (NiDCOM), that more than 7,000 Nigerians are currently stranded in Libya, inspired this intervention. Her statement revived painful memories that moved me, eight years ago in March 2017, to publish an article lamenting the surge of illegal migration by our young men and women in search of greener pastures abroad.

    That desperate pursuit often ended tragically, as countless Nigerians lost their lives attempting to cross the Sahara Desert on foot via Libya into Europe or navigating the Mediterranean Sea in rickety wooden boats into the Lampedusa islands,  Italy.

    These harrowing journeys evoke chilling reminders of how our forefathers were once shipped across oceans in tightly packed vessels during the Transatlantic slave trade, or dragged in chains across deserts in the Trans-Saharan trade. Sadly, despite the solutions I proposed in that earlier piece, nothing has changed. Eight years later, the Sahara and the Mediterranean remain vast graveyards for our youth, their lives wasted in pursuit of uncertain dreams.

    It is important at this point to admit that the long title of this essay is deliberate. It underscores the central point—that the sheer scale at which Nigerian lives are squandered through illegal migration, where our youth lose not only their identities as undocumented migrants but also fall prey to human traffickers, must be brought to the fore. Some of these traffickers even go as far as harvesting organs from their victims. These stark realities need to be highlighted to guide our youth away from such dangerous paths.

    The purpose of this essay, therefore is to paint a complete picture of the consequences of being undocumented—whether stranded in foreign lands or en route to them—so our young people can draw the right lessons. Before revisiting a significant portion of my 2017 article titled “Human Trafficking: How Nollywood, Traditional Rulers, and Businesses Can Come to the Rescue,” it is important to provide an update on global efforts to curb undocumented migration.

    One striking example is the plan once championed by former UK Prime Minister Rishi Sunak, who sought an agreement with Rwanda to “offload” undocumented migrants from Britain. The irony is glaring: a country that centuries ago forcefully uprooted Africans from their homelands and shipped them across the globe under imperial rule, now seeks to expel their descendants, preventing them from setting foot in the UK and even attempting to deport them to another African country.

    Of course, every nation reserves the sovereign right to decide who it admits or rejects. What raises deep moral concerns is the inhumane manner in which such policies are sometimes pursued. The UK’s failed attempt to deport migrants to Rwanda echoes history—specifically the relocation of freed slaves from Britain to Sierra Leone in 1787, under the initiative of abolitionist Granville Sharp. Sierra Leone eventually became a British Crown Colony in 1808 and gained independence in 1961.

    Similarly, the United States once adopted a comparable policy. In 1822, freed Black slaves were sent to Liberia, which declared independence in 1847. Like Sierra Leone, it symbolized both liberation and exile—a reminder that even efforts framed as humanitarian often carried undertones of rejection.

    Now, although the new UK Prime Minister, Keir Starmer, has scrapped the Rwanda plan, the parallels remain. The historical echoes—from Sierra Leone to Liberia—show how the legacies of forced displacement continue to shape the fate of Africans and their descendants today.

    It is also interesting and abhorrent how Americans with Nigerian heritage are celebrated when they accomplish feats in sports, academia, entrepreneurship, and even in politics. But if they are involved in crime they are disowned by being described as Nigerian immigrants.

    It conforms with the popular notion- success has many fathers but failure is an orphan. It must be stated that, such an attitude is unfair because it is morally wrong to selectively claim Americans of Nigerian origin only when it is convenient and serves their best interest and tag them with a Nigerian identity when they commit an offense against the US.

    To be clear, the situation of tarnishing the image of Nigerians abroad in the US applies in all the other climes where Nigerians are in the diaspora. That needs to change. The concept of citizen diplomacy is the solution that Nigerians in the diaspora must adopt to separate the bad eggs from the good ones.

    Trump’s Deportation Strategy, Global Parallels, and Lessons for Nigeria.

    Just as the United Kingdom once attempted to deport undocumented migrants to Rwanda, the Trump administration in the United States has been pursuing similar agreements with multiple countries in South America and Africa. A striking example is the case of Aggrego Garcia, an undocumented immigrant who, after being deported to El Salvador and returning, was given through the courts the unusual choice of being deported either to nearby Costa Rica or as far away as Uganda in Africa.

    This approach mirrors the UK’s deal with Rwanda and recalls the historical precedents of Sierra Leone and Liberia—nations founded centuries ago when freed slaves were deported from Britain and the United States respectively.

    As a public policy analyst—not an activist—I find it necessary to draw attention to the ideas I presented eight years ago in my earlier referenced publication. These recommendations, if adapted, could guide Nigerian and African policymakers today, especially as the US has adopted strategies that aim to deglamorize illegal migration. One example is the Florida-based “Alligator Alcatraz” detention center, a facility for undocumented immigrants awaiting deportation. Known for its harsh conditions and surrounded by dangerous reptiles like alligators and snakes, the center’s very reputation is meant to serve as a deterrent to those considering illegal entry.

    The logic is clear: by showcasing the grim realities that await undocumented migrants, authorities hope to discourage would-be migrants before they embark on the journey. And, according to reports, the strategy appears to be working.

    Recent studies, including one by Pew Research, indicate that illegal immigration to the US has dropped sharply. In the first half of 2025 alone, the foreign-born population declined by 1.4 million—the first such fall in fifty years. This drop is attributed to stricter border controls, mass deportations, and voluntary returns. Key figures highlight the scale: the foreign-born population shrank from 53.3 million to 51.9 million, with the unauthorized immigrant population falling by about 1 million.

    On the surface, this decline may seem like a policy success. But it carries risks. The immigrant share of the US labor force has dropped from 20% to 19%, translating to over 750,000 fewer workers, many of whom traditionally filled roles in farming and artisan labor. Economists warn that labor shortages could weaken industries heavily dependent on immigrant workers. History itself reinforces this point: America’s economic rise was built in no small part on immigrant labor, going back to the forced labor of African slaves brought through the transatlantic slave trade to work in wheat farms, etc.

    Thus, while the Trump administration hails these policies as achievements—boasting of reduced illegal crossings, safer streets, and more jobs for Americans—many experts caution that the economic consequences could be severe, affecting both immigrants and US citizens alike.

    Fingers are crossed on whether President Trump’s sweeping anti-illegal immigrants approach serves the US economy better or otherwise. But generally, sweeping actions against illegal immigrants are part of Trump’s campaign promises most of which he has been fulfilling.

    For Nigeria, there are lessons. The US has implemented one of the very ideas I suggested years ago: deglamorizing migration by exposing its harsh realities that the streets of Europe or the US are not paved with gold as depicted in Western movies. But our leaders have yet to take seriously other recommendations, such as leveraging Nollywood to depict the dangers of illegal migration, or mobilizing traditional rulers- who are closest to the grassroots- to enlighten rural communities.

    Thankfully,  the ongoing review of the 1999 constitution of Nigeria promises to assign our traditional rulers a more critical role in the governance of our country. Persuading our youth not to flee to a foreign land because of the grave danger they may face is a job well cut out for our traditional rulers in their impending new role.

    The Oba of Benin, for example, once led an effective campaign against human trafficking at the height of the crisis about a decade ago in his kingdom, which had become an epicenter of sex trafficking trade.

    As a prelude to my conclusion, I urge readers to revisit my March 2017 essay to see that the tragedy of human trafficking in Africa is not insurmountable. With innovative leadership and targeted collaboration between African governments and destination countries, this scourge can be tackled.

    Human Trafficking: How Nollywood, Traditional Rulers, and Businesses Can Help.

    When Nigerians hear about youths stranded in Libya, many shake their heads in despair. Recently, NiDCOM revealed that over 7,000 Nigerians remain trapped there. This is not new. For years, desperate young men and women have risked their lives crossing the Sahara Desert and the Mediterranean Sea, turning both into mass graves. Despite repeated warnings, the tide of illegal migration shows little sign of abating.

    The reasons are familiar—bad governance, poverty, conflict, and unemployment. But one driver receives less attention: the power of films. For decades, Hollywood has projected the West as a land where streets are paved with gold. These portrayals fuel unrealistic expectations among impressionable African youths, many of whom believe life abroad guarantees instant prosperity.

    This is where Nollywood comes in. Our film industry may not yet rival Hollywood in scale, but it holds extraordinary influence over African audiences. If Nollywood tells more honest stories about life in Europe—portraying the struggles of unemployment in Italy or economic stagnation in Greece—it can counterbalance the fantasy of Europe as paradise.

    Visionary filmmakers like Kunle Afolayan, Mo Abudu, Zeb Ejiro, and Jeta Amata can help shift mindsets, showing that opportunities at home, though imperfect, may be safer and more rewarding than chasing illusions abroad.

    The strategy is not far-fetched. The UN once used cinema to promote birth control across Africa with measurable success. Television and film remain among the most powerful tools for shaping attitudes and behavior. Nollywood can be enlisted to dramatize the risks of trafficking, the heartbreak of families torn apart, and the grim realities migrants face in detention camps.

    But cinema alone cannot win this battle. Another force sustaining trafficking is the cultural weight of juju oaths. As CNN’s Nima Elbagir documented, traffickers often force victims to swear rituals binding them to secrecy and compliance. Fear of these oaths has silenced many victims, especially in Edo and Delta States, the epicenters of trafficking.

    Thankfully, the Oba of Benin, HRM Ewuare II, acted decisively. He summoned priests across his kingdom and ordered them to annul the potency of such oaths, declaring trafficking a taboo. This royal intervention has given victims courage to speak up, while emboldening communities to confront traffickers without fear of spiritual reprisal. It shows how traditional rulers can wield cultural authority to dismantle criminal enterprises.

    Still, the deepest root of trafficking is economic desperation. Young people leave because they lack jobs. Here, the private sector must step up. History offers a striking example: decades ago, when large numbers of Chinese were migrating illegally to British-ruled Hong Kong, Mao Zedong encouraged Hong Kong entrepreneurs to build factories along China’s coastline. Those industries absorbed idle youth, curbing the incentive to migrate.

    Africa needs a similar model. Our billionaires must invest in large-scale job creation, not just philanthropy. Aliko Dangote has done commendably through his industrial ventures, and the Tony Elumelu  Foundation, TEF  which is nurturing youth entrepreneurs across the continent-equiping them with skills and giving them seed money. But as Bill Gates rightly noted, Nigeria’s wealthy elite have not done nearly enough. Their combined influence could transform the lives of millions if channeled into sustainable enterprises.

    The global billionaire class must also play its part. Titans like Jeff Bezos, Mark Zuckerberg, and Warren Buffett dominate markets in which trafficked victims are unwilling consumers. They, too, have a moral responsibility to invest in Africa’s growth. Building supply chains, factories, and tech hubs here would not only reduce the push factors of migration but also secure new markets for their businesses.

    The lesson is simple: poverty breeds desperation, and desperation fuels trafficking. By creating jobs, businesses—local and global—can save lives while also protecting long-term stability. As Bob Geldof’s Band Aid anthem once put it during Africa’s famine: “There is a choice we’re making; we’re saving our own lives.” That truth still resonates.

    Meanwhile, Nigeria’s institutions cannot afford to sit idly by. Despite NiDCOM’s creation, thousands of Nigerians remain trapped in Libya, Sudan, etc. The government must act with greater urgency—working through ministries of foreign affairs, interior, Culture, and Digital economy and information alongside NiDCOM—to implement strategies that reduce the allure of illegal migration. Nollywood must be mobilized to counter dangerous myths. Traditional rulers must continue confronting trafficking networks with their unique wisdom. And the business community must invest in job creation on a scale that matches the size of the challenge.

    The Africa Continental Free Trade Area,(AFCFTA) uniting 54 nations into a single market and regulatory regime aimed at boosting trade on the continent makes investing in Africa easy, seamless, and a good business case as opposed to charity.

    The incumbent administration is known for its agility and responsiveness. As such it is expected to rise to the occasion.

    Human trafficking is one of the darkest stains on our time. Yet it is not beyond remedy. With a united approach—storytelling that reshapes perception, cultural leadership that breaks spiritual bondage, and economic investment that restores dignity—Nigeria and Africa can begin to turn the tide.

    The tragedy of young lives wasted in deserts, seas, and detention centers must not continue. It is time to act, and to act decisively. On that note, apart from the executive branch,  l urge the national assembly to rise to the occasion by passing legislation that will save our youth population from being wasted as the unfortunate and horrific incident of the slave-trade blighted our country and indeed the continent of Africa centuries ago by decimating our young and verile men/women population when they were forcefully removed from the continent to Europe and the Americas by transatlantic slave traders.

    Magnus Onyibe, an entrepreneur, public policy analyst, author, democracy advocate, development strategist, and alumnus of the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University, Massachusetts, USA, is a Commonwealth Institute scholar and a former commissioner in the Delta State government. He sent this piece from Lagos.

  • Buhari and the African custom of not speaking ill of the dead – By Magnus Onyibe

    Buhari and the African custom of not speaking ill of the dead – By Magnus Onyibe

    Much has already been said and written about the life, public service career, passing, and burial of Nigeria’s former president, Muhammadu Buhari, GCFR. So rather than revisit the familiar aspects of his legacy, I have chosen to reflect on some of the less-discussed, subtle events and characteristics that shaped him in life and continue to define his memory in death.

    During his presidential campaign between 2013 and 2015, Nigerians were bombarded with stories highlighting both the flaws and virtues of candidate Buhari. His critics within the then-ruling People’s Democratic Party (PDP) brought to light many of his past missteps and controversial traits, while his backers in the All Progressives Congress (APC) painted him as a principled, incorruptible patriot. This tug-of-war of narratives culminated in his victory over then-incumbent President Goodluck Jonathan in 2015, followed by his reelection in 2019.

    Given how extensively his leadership style, governance record, and worldview have been dissected, this reflection intentionally avoids rehashing those well-trodden subjects.

    As Buhari was laid to rest in his hometown of Daura, Katsina State on Tuesday, July 15, following his death on Sunday, July 13 in a London hospital at the age of 82, a Shakespearean line came to mind:

    “…the good is oft interred with their bones…”

    This line, from Julius Caesar and spoken by Mark Antony, captures a recurring truth — that people often remember the wrongs committed by the deceased far more than their good deeds. And in the case of President Buhari, this sentiment has come alive in the wake of his passing, particularly among Nigeria’s youth, whose reactions on both traditional and social media have been overwhelmingly critical.

    Their resentment is rooted in what they saw as an antagonistic relationship with Buhari’s government. Instead of mourning with praise, many young Nigerians have reacted with a torrent of negative comments — some bordering on celebration of his death.

    This bitterness stems partly from Buhari’s 2016 remarks during a UK visit, in which he described Nigerian youth as lazy — a comment that left a lasting wound. More significantly, his handling of the 2020 #EndSARS protests, during which security forces under his watch brutally suppressed unarmed demonstrators, cemented the perception of his administration as repressive and unfeeling. Earlier in his leadership career, the introduction of Decree 4, used to silence the press and imprison journalists, Nduka lrabor and Tunde Thompson, both of whom were newspaper editors further alienated him from a critical segment of society — the media.

    Even the political elite, a group Buhari later belonged to, did not escape his harsh measures after he truncated democracy via a military coup d’état staged in 1983 to install himself as a military dictator. During his tenure as military head of state from 1983 to 1985, after he toppled the democratically elected government of President Shehu Shagari and Vice President Alex Ekwueme, he positioned himself as a strict enforcer with little regard for democratic norms but ruling with draconian laws.

    It is trite to state that as an autocratic ruler, Muhammadu Buhari’s regime was marked by repression and authoritarianism. Many politicians he overthrew in his 1983 coup were sentenced to lengthy prison terms, with some dying in custody or suffering severe health consequences such as blindness. His iron-fisted rule lasted 20 months before he was ousted in another military coup by his fellow officers.

    Despite his brutality evidenced by his harsh actions, Buhari made a surprising political comeback three decades later, returning to power through democratic elections in 2015. This remarkable political resurrection underscores Nigerians’ deep capacity for forgiveness.

    An example of this forgiving nature is seen in Pa Bisi Akande, former Osun State governor and one of those unjustly imprisoned during Buhari’s military regime. Decades later, Akande became interim chairman of the All Progressives Congress (APC), the very political party that facilitated Buhari’s reentry into leadership as a democratically elected president.

    Yet, while many older Nigerians — including some of his former political victims — have chosen to speak respectfully of Buhari after his passing, Nigeria’s youth have shown little restraint. Their criticism has been harsh and, at times, celebratory of his death. The contrast is stark: elders have taken a more measured approach, allowing time to dull the pain of the past, while younger Nigerians remain defiant and outspoken.

    Their anger is rooted in events like Buhari’s 2016 remark in the UK labeling Nigerian youths as “lazy,” and his administration’s violent crackdown on peaceful #EndSARS protesters in 2020. Buhari’s history of stifling press freedom — notably through Decree 4 — also alienated the media and many civil society actors. Unlike the elders who seem to have moved on, the youth have not forgotten — or forgiven.

    This generational divide in the perception of Buhari reflects a deeper shift in societal values. Traditionally, African cultures discourage speaking ill of the dead — a norm grounded in ancestral respect, communal harmony, spiritual beliefs, and the reverence for elders. Yet today’s youth seem to be moving away from this custom, choosing instead to air their grievances openly, even after a leader’s death.

    I find this cultural erosion troubling.

    Hence one of the most significant takeaways from Buhari’s life, leadership, and passing is this cultural shift — a warning sign that we are losing essential values that once held our society together.

    As I reflected on the mixed reactions to Buhari’s death, I was reminded again of Mark Antony’s famous line from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar (often mistakenly attributed to Macbeth):

    “The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.”

    This quote speaks volumes. It highlights how society tends to remember a person’s flaws long after they’re gone, while their virtues are quickly forgotten. Buhari’s legacy seems to follow this pattern — with many quick to recall his wrongdoings while overlooking his contributions.

    In African tradition, avoiding criticism of the dead serves several purposes. It honors the deceased as ancestors who are believed to continue influencing the living. It maintains social peace, reinforces cultural values, and aligns with deeply held spiritual beliefs about the afterlife.

    Interestingly, this practice is not unique to Africa. In many Asian societies, including Chinese and Japanese cultures, speaking ill of the dead is frowned upon. Indigenous cultures around the world also share this view, and even some Western societies — though less rigid — maintain a similar decorum, especially during official tributes or funerals.

    However, in the West, especially among Caucasian societies, this restraint is not always observed. A striking example is the reaction to the death of former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher in 2013. Her passing sparked not only political debate but also outright public celebrations by those who opposed her policies — especially among working-class communities devastated by her economic reforms.

    Street parties in areas like Brixton and Glasgow made headlines, while miners and their unions — still angry over her handling of the 1984–85 miners’ strike — expressed open contempt. Even politicians like Tony Benn offered pointed critiques of Thatcher’s legacy, accusing her of deepening social inequality.

    This type of reaction — reminiscent of what we’re witnessing with Buhari’s passing — shows how deeply divisive leaders leave behind polarized legacies. In Nigeria, the public response has been similarly split along generational lines: the youth, many of whom bore the brunt of Buhari’s policies, are his harshest critics, while the older generation, including political figures and former allies, have been far more reserved or even respectful in their eulogies.

    Take, for instance, the subtle tributes by former President Olusegun Obasanjo (OBJ) and Labour Party presidential candidate Peter Obi. Both men, in what appeared to be carefully worded statements, said Buhari “did his best.” This ambiguous phrasing mirrors the diplomatic tone often used when paying respects to controversial figures — a nod to civility without fully endorsing the legacy.

    In sum, Buhari, like Thatcher, will remain a deeply debated figure in history. And just as Thatcher’s impact continues to stir reflection in the UK, Buhari’s rule — both as a dictator and a democrat — will likely dominate Nigerian discourse for years to come. The generational divide in how he is remembered — youth versus elders — may be the clearest reflection of how his leadership was received, and perhaps, of the cultural transformation underway in Nigeria itself.

    Despite the scorn and resentment many young Nigerians still hold toward President Buhari—even after his passing—the turnout at his burial in Daura was massive and intense. As is often the case with public ceremonies in Nigeria, especially high-profile funerals, the event was marked by disorganization and chaos, much like the burial of the late President Umaru Yar’Adua in Katsina State back in 2010.

    It is regrettable that, despite President Tinubu constituting a 25-member committee to plan Buhari’s state burial, the coordination was far from impressive—certainly not chaotic, but underwhelming. In contrast, events organized by professionals in the private sector typically run much more smoothly. This raises a critical question: why don’t government agencies responsible for such high-profile events enlist experienced private sector planners to achieve the polished standards we often admire in other parts of the world?

    Fortunately, no casualties were reported during Buhari’s funeral. And to President Tinubu’s credit, he played a highly visible and active role in the entire process. From dispatching Vice President Kashim Shettima and Chief of Staff Femi Gbajabiamila to London to accompany Buhari’s body back home, to participating in the final interment, Tinubu demonstrated statesmanship and upheld the dignity of the presidency, both in life and in death.

    As Arise News anchor Vimbai Murithini-Ekpeyong rightly noted, Buhari’s remains were returned to Nigeria with dignity—in the passenger cabin of the aircraft, not in the cargo hold, as was the unfortunate case with the late Zimbabwean President Robert Mugabe’s remains. That small but significant detail conveyed respect and was, for many, a powerful symbolic gesture.

    While recognizing that Nigeria doesn’t operate at the same level of development as Western countries, it’s still instructive to compare the logistics of Buhari’s funeral with those of former U.S. President Jimmy Carter (2024) and British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher (2013). Both Western funerals were well-coordinated and dignified, offering far better optics than the disorder seen in Daura on Tuesday, July 15.

    As the saying goes, learning never stops. To improve the planning and execution of VIP funerals in Nigeria, especially those involving former presidents, the following globally accepted strategies are worth adopting:

    1. Pre-Event Planning

    • Clear Communication: Share schedules, expectations, and protocols with attendees in advance.

    • Comprehensive Crowd Management Plan: Outline staffing, emergency procedures, and crowd services.

    2. Effective Crowd Control

    • Barriers and Signage: Guide people and prevent overcrowding using physical boundaries and clear signs.

    • Security Deployment: Ensure adequate presence of security personnel for order and emergency handling.

    • Designated Viewing Zones: Create structured areas for attendees to reduce pressure on key zones.

    3. Use of Technology

    • Surveillance Systems: Install cameras for crowd monitoring and early issue detection.

    • Public Address Systems: Use loudspeakers to keep crowds informed and coordinated.

    4. Community Involvement

    • Public Sensitization: Promote decorum and respectful behavior through awareness campaigns.

    • Engage Local Leaders: Work with community influencers to foster calm and cooperation.

    5. Emergency Preparedness

    • Incident Response Plans: Establish clear protocols for medical or security emergencies.

    • Medical Presence: Provide on-site medical teams; reports suggest a woman fainted during the Daura ceremony.

    Of course, one major difference must be acknowledged: unlike Western funerals that benefit from extended planning periods, Nigeria’s past presidents—Umar Yar’Adua (2010), Shehu Shagari (2018), and Muhammadu Buhari (2025)—were all buried promptly following Islamic rites, which require burial within 24 hours. This time constraint naturally limits preparation.

    Still, adopting the above strategies can make future high-profile funerals more organized and dignified, even within tight timelines.

    That said, there is a strong case for institutionalizing the burial process of top government officials. Another takeaway for me is why clear, legally defined Standard Operating Procedure (SOP) should govern state funerals—much like how outgoing governors secure pensions by signing entitlements into law before leaving office. This would ensure that the burial of a president, vice president, Senate president, or House speaker is not left to the discretion of the sitting president.

    Such a framework would help prevent the kind of neglect allegedly experienced by former President Shehu Shagari, whose grandson, Nura Muhammed Mahe, claimed he did not receive a befitting state burial under President Buhari’s administration in 2018.

    Codifying state funeral procedures would offer consistency, dignity, and fairness, regardless of who is in power. I believe living former presidents like Olusegun Obainsanjo and Goodluck Jonathan should champion this cause. Whether it should also apply to former military heads of state is open for debate—but the need for reform is clear. For emphasis’s sake, this, for me, is one of the most important takeaways from Buhari’s burial.

    Given the extensive commentary on the life, leadership, and eventual burial of former President Muhammadu Buhari, one cannot help but recall the words of Barack Obama during his 2016 visit to Africa, particularly in Ghana, where he famously stated: “Africa needs strong institutions, not strong men.” It’s as though Obama had Buhari in mind.

    Buhari embodied the classic image of a “strongman.” Although he was popularly known as Mai Gaskiya (the honest one), he symbolized the pitfalls of personality-driven leadership in a continent yearning for institutional strength. Had he invested in building robust, technology-driven anti-corruption institutions—as some of us had advised in numerous articles —rather than waging a selective and discretionary anti-graft war that plunged the economy into recession, Buhari’s legacy might have been markedly different. Perhaps, alongside Mai Gaskiya, his tombstone might have read: The Man Who Fought and Defeated Corruption.

    Given the contradiction that corruption was inadvertently given a new lease of life during his reign, his trademark slogan “If we don’t kill corruption, it will kill us”, can be said to have manifested in breach as the mantra has turned out to be a sort of oxymoron.

    However, public discourse following his death paints a different picture—one of a powerful man who weakened, rather than strengthened, Nigeria’s institutions. Analysts attribute this to tendencies such as nepotism, religious favoritism, and a limited national outlook.

    A glaring example of this was the disregard for the Federal Character principle, which is embedded in the Nigerian Constitution to ensure equitable representation. Critics have long pointed out that Buhari’s appointments in the security sector were heavily skewed toward the North and predominantly Muslim. As columnist Dakuku Peterside noted, during Buhari’s first term, 35 out of 47 top security and intelligence appointments were from the North, with 31 of them being Muslims.

    The Federal Character Commission was established to prevent precisely this kind of imbalance, but under Buhari’s leadership, its purpose was undermined. Ironically, the same Buhari hailed for his integrity allowed herders to roam freely with AK-47 rifles—an egregious violation of the Nigerian constitution, which permits only the armed forces to carry such weapons.

    Critics argue that this tolerance/ exception granted to the rules for armed herders—while ordinary citizens require licenses for even hunting guns—exacerbated insecurity, especially in rural farming communities. The result was a lopsided power dynamic where armed herders terrorized unarmed farmers, leading to widespread violence, displacement, and the proliferation of internally Displaced People, IDP camps.

    This imbalance in the use of force continues to fuel brutal attacks in states like Plateau, Benue, and Nasarawa. It’s a legacy that President Tinubu must confront and correct if the nation is to move forward by doing what needs to be done to shed the ugly toga of insecurity.

    The broader consequence of Buhari’s governance style—marked by disregard for rule of law and institutional norms—has left deep scars. His policies caused untold hardship, and the collapse of critical institutions under his watch created a governance vacuum that will take time to mend.

    One can only imagine the chaos if the constitutional requirement for winning a presidential election with at least two-thirds of votes across Nigeria had been ignored in Buhari’s favor in 2003, based solely on his popularity in the North and his myth of having 12m votes in the three times he contested and failed to win the presidential elections. Perhaps we might not have had a country as we do today. That hypothetical scenario reflects the same regional bias he enacted in office—allowing armed herders to dominate and terrorize unarmed farming communities.

    This legacy of imbalance of allowing armed herdsmen to inflict violence on unarmed farmers has significantly stained what might have otherwise been a commendable administration. The irony of it all is that the Internally Displaced People, IDP camps spread across the northern region contain both Christians and Muslims alike. That is why attempts to make the insecurity crisis in the northern flank of the nation look like religious conflict have been futile.

    Even with Tinubu’s efforts to stabilize the economy and restore order, the damage done to our nation via insecurity will take many years to fully repair. But he still has time to fix the broken system and given his record of taking on tough tasks and prevailing, like the monster of petrol subsidy which he has succeeded in defeating,  insecurity may equally be defeated sooner rather than later if it is tackled with a similar fervor that the economic imbalances bedeviling and hobbling our country have been addressed.

    In the final analysis, we can not forget that in African tradition, speaking ill of the dead is frowned upon. So, those who continue to harshly criticize Buhari after his death are arguably in violation of cultural norms that promote respect for the deceased. As the saying goes, to err is human, to forgive is divine.

    Buhari himself was aware that his leadership had left many aggrieved. After leaving office, he publicly sought forgiveness from Nigerians. Following his death, his wife, Aisha Buhari, reiterated this appeal—defending her late husband, who she acknowledged was tough but politically naive. Throughout his time in power, she tried to shield him from the backlash his decisions would inevitably provoke, some of which are now surfacing.

    Given the combined pleas of both Buhari and his wife, it’s only fair to call on the aggrieved, particularly the youth, to allow his soul to rest in peace.

    Magnus Onyibe is an entrepreneur, public policy analyst, author, democracy advocate, and development strategist. He is an alumnus of the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University, Massachusetts, USA, a Commonwealth Institute scholar, and a former commissioner in the Delta State Government. He wrote from Lagos.

  • BRICS, Nigeria and the Brick Wall – By Magnus Onyibe

    BRICS, Nigeria and the Brick Wall – By Magnus Onyibe

    President Bola Ahmed Tinubu is not just the President and Chief Executive Officer (CEO) of Nigeria, but also, figuratively speaking, the country’s chief salesman.

    That is why, last week, he was in Brazil attending the BRICS summit held in the South American nation. BRICS is an acronym for a group of five countries that formed a coalition to serve as a rival or alternative to global institutions like the United Nations (UN).

    It comprises Brazil, Russia, India, China, and South Africa—from which the acronym “BRICS” is derived.

    In fact, the concept of BRIC was introduced by Jim O’Neill, a Goldman Sachs economist, in 2001. He coined the term “BRIC” (Brazil, Russia, India, and China) in a report highlighting the economic growth potential of those four countries.

    Later, in 2010, South Africa joined the group, prompting the acronym to change to BRICS. Among the group’s core goals are the promotion of economic cooperation, development, and a more balanced global order among its members.

    Additionally, BRICS has declared its aim to reform global financial institutions, promote sustainable development, and deepen economic collaboration among its member states.

    After South Africa—an ally of Russia and China—was admitted in 2010, the BRICS group, in 2024, further expanded by welcoming Egypt, the United Arab Emirates, Iran, and Ethiopia as new members.

    Nigeria, however, remains a partner nation, not a full member. Hence, its participation in the Brazil summit was as a partner, possibly considering future membership.

    One might assume that in a pragmatic approach, Nigerian leaders are hedging their bets—perhaps why the country has yet to become a BRICS member, despite the group’s existence for nearly 25 years.

    According to historical records, before South Africa was admitted in 2010, Nigeria was high on the list of African nations evaluated by Goldman Sachs as having significant growth potential and the capacity to be a global economic game changer.

    By all economic fundamentals—and at a time when Nigeria’s economy was even larger than South Africa’s—our country seemed to qualify for inclusion on the list.

    Yet, certain factors hindered Nigeria’s inclusion. Despite having the right fundamentals, including a larger economy (especially after the rebasing of its GDP, which placed Nigeria fourth in Africa), the country did not make the Goldman Sachs list.

    Why didn’t Nigeria qualify for BRICS membership at inception, despite its economic size surpassing that of South Africa?

    Though Nigeria had a larger economy, South Africa’s more diversified economic structure, stronger institutions, and deeper integration into the global system may have made it a more appealing candidate for BRICS membership.

    Nigeria’s challenges—such as infrastructural deficits, security concerns, and lack of economic diversification—likely undermined its eligibility.

    Ultimately, when Nigeria failed to meet the criteria in the Goldman Sachs matrix, South Africa, with a more robust and less corruption-ridden economy, emerged as the chosen candidate.

    As things have turned out, after initially not qualifying and later remaining distant from BRICS for nearly 25 years, Nigeria finally engaged with the group as a partner country on January 17, 2025.

    This step marks an expansion of BRICS’ global influence and deepens Nigeria’s economic and diplomatic ties with other emerging economies.

    Without equivocation, the presumed aim of Nigeria’s partnership with BRICS is to enhance trade, investment, and infrastructure development opportunities, in alignment with BRICS’s core objective of fostering economic growth and cooperation among emerging markets.

    Remarkably, had Nigeria been included in the group of countries expected to shape the global economy back in 2001—when Goldman Sachs economist Jim O’Neill conducted his seminal analysis—it could have been a founding member of BRIC. But for its shortcomings, including a low ranking on the corruption index, high levels of insecurity, and lack of economic diversification (challenges that still persist), the acronym might have been BRICN instead of BRICS.

    That said, it is important to step back and explore more deeply the origins of BRICS, which emerged in 2001 as a counterforce to the United Nations (UN).

    The original four countries—Brazil, Russia, India, and China—were identified based on their robust economic fundamentals and growth potential. They were expected to overtake some of the world’s leading economies. However, only China and India have so far lived up to those expectations.

    With the global economy encountering turbulence, some of the originally selected countries, like Brazil, underperformed, while others, like Russia, went off course. Consequently, the Goldman Sachs analysis became less aligned with emerging economic realities.

    Yet, in a move that could be described as “not letting sleeping dogs lie,” the current BRICS countries revived the BRIC concept—though not in the original economic context envisioned by O’Neill. Instead, the revival was driven by dissatisfaction with the post-World War II global order led by the West and institutionalized through the UN.

    The core grievance among BRICS nations is that the UN’s operations disproportionately favor the interests of the global West—particularly the U.S. and its allies—at the expense of countries like Russia, China, India, Brazil, and other like-minded nations now in BRICS.

    Perhaps viewing BRICS as a potential re-enactment of the Cold War-era polarization—when Russia led the Eastern Bloc and the U.S. led the West—the United States has begun mounting formidable brick walls against BRICS. One such move is the recent imposition of a 50% tariff on Brazilian exports to the U.S., set to take effect on August 1.

    It’s worth recalling that during his first term (2016–2020), President Donald Trump threatened to impose a 100% tariff on BRICS nations. Now, in his second term (as both the 45th and 47th U.S. president), he has revived those threats—this time with a blanket 10% tariff on all BRICS nations. His justification is that BRICS is allegedly trying to undercut, undermine, or displace the U.S. dollar as the world’s reserve currency.

    President Trump warned: “Any country aligning itself with the anti-American policies of BRICS will be charged an additional 10% tariff. There will be no exceptions to this policy.”

    In this context, and given the “America First” ideology currently driving U.S. foreign policy, President Bola Tinubu of Nigeria finds himself facing a geopolitical dilemma: either align with the global West and the U.S., or collaborate with BRICS and risk sanctions.

    Being a pragmatist and a master strategist, one is optimistic that President Tinubu possesses the geopolitical awareness and diplomatic dexterity to navigate these challenging global currents.

    Ultimately, Nigerian leaders must act in the nation’s best interest. That means pragmatically striving to enjoy the best of both worlds—balancing relations between the established global West and the emerging BRICS power bloc. The ideal strategy may lie in maintaining a posture of strategic non-alignment—navigating both camps carefully without provoking either.

    Historically, Nigeria has been a non-aligned nation, and there is little indication that this stance is changing, even in today’s complex geopolitical environment. For instance, Brazil—a BRICS founding member and an agricultural powerhouse—is well positioned to assist Nigeria in boosting agricultural productivity, which is a central pillar of the Tinubu administration’s policy agenda.

    Nigeria’s longstanding caution in joining BRICS since its inception in 2001 likely stems from its desire to maintain strategic, long-term relationships with its allies in the global West. The inherent risks of aligning too quickly with a bloc seen as a counterforce to Western institutions may explain why Nigeria has consistently demurred from becoming a full member.

    At this point, it’s important to underscore that Nigeria is not a member of BRICS. Rather, it currently holds the status of a partner nation, engaging with BRICS countries in areas such as trade, finance, and development.

    As Dale Carnegie wisely noted, “Only knowledge that is used sticks in your mind.”

    Nigeria must pursue its development goals strategically. Given Brazil’s long-standing partnership with Nigeria—exemplified by the fact that the Kaduna refinery was originally designed to process Brazil’s heavy crude, not Nigeria’s Bonny Light—it would be imprudent to ignore the opportunities for collaboration with Brazil. Brazil also offers a viable path to addressing Nigeria’s food insecurity crisis.

    This is likely why President Bola Tinubu’s entourage to the BRICS summit in Brazil included key ministers—agriculture, environment, and water resources—as well as several governors from states rich in arable land and with strong potential for agricultural development.

    One clear benefit of Nigeria reaching beyond its traditional allies in the global West to partners in the Global South, like Brazil, is evident in trade figures: Nigeria’s trade with BRICS countries reached ₦5.41 trillion in the first quarter of 2025—three times the volume of its trade with the United States in the same period.

    Unsurprisingly, conspiracy theories have begun circulating, suggesting Nigeria’s growing association with BRICS is straining its relationship with the U.S. For instance, the recent U.S. decision to discontinue five-year multiple-entry visas for Nigerians—replacing them with three-month single-entry visas—has been interpreted in some quarters as a retaliatory move.

    In response, the U.S. Mission in Nigeria issued a statement debunking these claims:

    “This reduction is not the result of any nation’s stance on third-country deportees, the introduction of e-visa policies, or affiliations with groups like BRICS.

    The reduction in validity is part of an ongoing global review of the use of U.S. visas by other countries using technical and security benchmarks to safeguard U.S. immigration systems.

    We value our longstanding partnership with Nigeria and remain committed to working closely with the Nigerian public and government officials to help them meet those criteria and benchmarks, thereby ensuring safe, lawful, and mutually beneficial travel between our nations.”

    Whether this is diplomatic speak—carefully chosen words to avoid offense and maintain cordial relations—remains to be seen. The true implications will likely become clearer as events unfold.

    It’s worth remembering that at independence in 1960, Nigeria adopted a non-alignment policy—refusing to automatically side with either the Western or Eastern blocs during the Cold War.

    Successive Nigerian administrations—from Abubakar Tafawa Balewa to Aguiyi Ironsi, Yakubu Gowon, Murtala Mohammed, Olusegun Obasanjo, Musa Yar’Adua, Goodluck Jonathan, Muhammadu Buhari, and now Bola Tinubu—have interpreted and applied this policy to varying degrees, depending on the personal philosophy and strategic interests of the sitting president.

    Under General Ibrahim Babangida, for instance, Nigeria leaned more toward the global West, despite formally maintaining a non-aligned stance.

    This context is vital when revisiting the tenure of Professor Bolaji Akinyemi, Nigeria’s former Minister of Foreign Affairs and now Chairman of the Nigerian Institute of International Affairs (NIIA). In the 1980s, Akinyemi proposed the establishment of a Concert of Medium Powers—a group similar in concept to BRICS—intended to allow mid-sized nations to collectively influence global affairs and contribute to international stability and development.

    His proposal was rejected, and he was relieved of his position—presumably under pressure from Western powers uncomfortable with such a bloc. It’s also on record that Akinyemi once advocated for Nigeria to develop nuclear capability—dubbed the “Black Bomb”—which could have made Nigeria the first Black nation with a nuclear weapon. Again, Western opposition reportedly led to the idea’s dismissal.

    Successive Nigerian governments have generally complied with the country’s non-alignment doctrine, as demonstrated by Nigeria’s refusal to become a full BRICS member over the past 25 years—until January 2025, when it joined as a partner nation.

    As is often the case in politics, competing interpretations of diplomatic events abound. The recent mini-summit between U.S. President Donald Trump and five African heads of state in the White House on July 9th was spun by opposition figures in the Africa Democratic Congress (ADC) as a sign that the U.S. is shunning President Tinubu.

    That assumption is misleading.

    Nigeria, as a major African and global player, was never likely to be lumped in with the smaller countries that met with President Trump. Rather, like South African President Cyril Ramaphosa—who recently had a one-on-one meeting with Trump—President Tinubu is expected to have his own bilateral session with the U.S. president.

    At the rate President Trump is currently engaging with Africa, he appears on track to meet more African leaders in a single term than President Barack Obama—a Black man—did in two full terms.

    As I asked rhetorically in my February article titled “What If U.S. President Trump Shifts From Aid to Trade?”, in response to the U.S. pause on USAID programs in Africa:

    “What if aid is replaced with trade?”

    As if in direct response to that article, during his recent meeting with African leaders, President Trump declared:

    “We’re shifting from aid to trade.

    In the long run, this will be far more effective, sustainable, and beneficial than anything else that we could be doing together.”

    While the withdrawal of U.S. aid may cause short-term discomfort, the long-term benefits—if Africa’s contribution to global trade rises, as Trump’s engagement may facilitate—could be transformative. It aligns with the age-old wisdom: “Don’t give me a fish; teach me how to fish.”

    The U.S., in its position as the world’s economic hegemon, once tolerated trade deficits out of its self-appointed role as a global benefactor. But with its vast financial leverage and military might, President Trump has chosen to stop playing “Santa Claus” and is instead advocating reciprocal trade practices.

    In contrast, Africa’s experience with unfair trade has largely been dictated by superpowers that exploit the continent’s vulnerabilities. This economic imbalance amounts to modern-day slavery, colonialism, and neo-colonialism.

    That reality fuels my advocacy for Africa to embrace the disruptive tariff reforms being introduced by President Trump. These reforms may dismantle an old world order in which Africa is relegated to supplying raw materials and receiving finished goods—an extractive model that perpetuates underdevelopment.

    My forthcoming book, “Africa: Importing Poverty, Exporting Wealth”, shines a spotlight on this systemic injustice. It is my hope that those who continue to exploit Africa’s weaknesses—and who seek to keep the continent metaphorically underwater—will finally apply the universal truth:

    “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”

    Africa must be allowed to breathe.

    The 1885 Berlin Conference, where European powers partitioned the continent, laid the foundation for the systemic subjugation that continues to plague Africa. It’s time to dismantle that legacy.

    Magnus Onyibe, an entrepreneur, public policy analyst, author, democracy advocate, and development strategist, is an alumnus of the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University, Massachusetts, USA. He is a Commonwealth Institute scholar and a former commissioner in the Delta State government. He sent this piece from Washington DC.

  • Musk vs Trump: How the world’s richest men use their wealth – By Magnus Onyibe

    Musk vs Trump: How the world’s richest men use their wealth – By Magnus Onyibe

    A looming battle of wits—and perhaps of ballots—between the world’s richest man and the most powerful political leader promises to be epic. Elon Musk, the technology and aerospace titan, has drawn a clear battle line against President Donald Trump, the 47th president of the United States and head of the global hegemon.

    Friends Turned Foes.

    During the 2024 U.S. presidential race, Musk poured vast resources into Trump’s successful comeback bid. Yet barely a year later the pair stand at daggers drawn. Trump’s sweeping domestic agenda—dubbed the “Big Beautiful Bill”—has alienated several former allies, none more vocal than Musk. Their falling-out undercuts the old adage “he who pays the piper calls the tune.” Trump, it seems, will not dance to anyone else’s music, except deliver on his campaign promise.

    What the Super-Rich Do With Their Fortunes.

    Before unpacking the Musk–Trump feud, it is worth recalling how previous holders of the “world’s wealthiest” title chose to deploy their fortunes.

    • Bill Gates

    Co-founder of Microsoft; World’s Richest Man (1995–2007, 2009, 2014–17)

    Gates, now 69, has pledged to give away US $200 billion before 2045 through the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, focusing on global health, education, and climate initiatives.

    • Warren Buffett

    CEO of Berkshire Hathaway; World’s Richest Man (2008)

    Buffett, 94, has vowed to donate 99 % of his wealth, primarily via the Gates Foundation and a family-run charitable trust, leaving “just enough”—about US $2 billion each—to his three children. His philosophy:

    “Parents should leave their children enough so they can do anything, but not enough that they can do nothing.”

    • Elon Musk

    CEO of Tesla, SpaceX, X (Twitter), and Starlink; World’s Richest Man since 2021.

    After Tesla’s meteoric rise pushed his net worth above US $200 billion, Musk briefly ceded the top spot to Bernard Arnault in 2022 but soon reclaimed it. Now, at 54, the South-African-born entrepreneur is threatening to pour his fortune into founding a new U.S. political party—a direct strike at the Republican–Democratic duopoly—to unseat Trump in 2028. The catalyst: Trump’s signing of the Big Beautiful Bill on 4 July, America’s 249th Independence Day, a legislation Musk argues would stifle technological innovation and space exploration where he plays a prominent role.

    From Philanthropy to Power Plays.

    While Gates and Buffett channel their billions into philanthropy, Musk appears ready to wield his wealth as a political weapon. If he follows through, the clash between Musk’s cash and Trump’s incumbency could reshape the American—and global—political landscape.

    Stay tuned: the richest man on earth and the most powerful politician alive are set for a showdown that may redefine how extreme wealth translates into political power.

    As a fallout of his disagreement with President Trump’s domestic policies—particularly on taxation—Elon Musk made a bold declaration on Twitter the following day (Saturday). He revealed that he had polled his followers on whether to form a new political party to challenge President Trump and stated:

    “Today, the America Party is formed to give you back your freedom. By a factor of 2 to 1, you want a new political party, and you shall have it!”

    Musk’s announcement about launching what he calls the “America Party”—while stunning and unprecedented in the history of U.S. political evolution—is not entirely unexpected. This is especially so, considering the rapid deterioration of the once-unlikely alliance formed last year between then–Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump and Musk, the billionaire founder of Tesla, SpaceX, X (formerly Twitter), and Starlink.

    The unusual partnership had a clear objective: to unseat then-President Joe Biden and block Vice President Kamala Harris from ascending further. Both Musk and Trump shared a common enemy but had different motivations. Trump believed that Biden had stolen his 2020 mandate, when he was declared the loser of the presidential contest in 2019 and Biden the winner,while Musk was driven by a deep resentment of what he saw as the Democratic Party’s excessive embrace of “wokeness”—a term he equated with liberal overreach and cultural decay.

    Musk’s antagonism toward Biden and the Democratic Party is deeply personal. In 2022, a U.S. court granted his child, Xavier Alexander Musk, legal rights to transition from male to female and adopt the name Vivian Jenna Wilson, effectively disowning Musk. This family conflict, in Musk’s view, was a byproduct of what he labels a “woke” culture, which he blames on Democratic leadership.

    With such a powerful convergence of animosity, it wasn’t difficult to see how Trump’s political capital and Musk’s financial muscle could combine to defeat the Biden/Harris ticket in the 2024 election. And they did—Trump returned to the White House on January 20, 2025.

    Having achieved their shared objectives—Trump’s reinstatement and the rollback of progressive policies including gender-identity recognition—one might have expected a continued alliance. Especially after Trump declared that only two genders—male and female—would henceforth be recognized by U.S. law, aligning with Musk’s worldview.

    Yet, questions remain. Was Musk’s support for Trump merely strategic—meant to ensure favorable policy treatment for his sprawling business empire? Now that he is turning against Trump, their feud is a cautionary tale on why politicians and business tycoons should not be joined at the hip. Their fallout could lead to serious conflicts of interest, particularly as Musk’s newly declared America Party prepares to challenge the Republican establishment in the upcoming midterm elections, he Musk carries on with his threat.

    What The World’s Richest Men Do With Their Wealth.

    Before delving further into this political rift, it’s insightful to consider how the world’s wealthiest individuals—past and present—have used their fortunes.

    Elon Musk

    Currently the world’s richest man, with a net worth of approximately $405.2 billion, Musk made his fortune through Tesla (electric vehicles), SpaceX (space exploration), X/Twitter (social media), and Starlink (satellite internet). He’s now channeling that wealth into politics—an unprecedented move in modern U.S. history.

    Bernard Arnault

    The French luxury goods magnate and head of LVMH, Arnault was the world’s richest man in 2022 with a net worth of $199 billion. He made his fortune through high-end brands such as Louis Vuitton, Moët & Chandon, and Hennessy.

    Jeff Bezos

    Founder of Amazon and Blue Origin, Bezos is currently the world’s second richest man, worth around $244 billion. Like Musk, he has invested in space exploration and also owns The Washington Post, signaling an interest in media influence.

    Mark Zuckerberg

    At $225 billion, Zuckerberg is the founder of Facebook/Meta, a social media empire that has shaped global communication, politics, and advertising.

    Bill Gates

    Founder of Microsoft, Gates held the title of the world’s richest man from 1995 to 2018. Now worth billions, he is one of the world’s leading philanthropists through the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, focusing on global health, education, and poverty eradication.

    Carlos Slim Helú

    The Mexican business tycoon was the world’s richest man from 2010 to 2013. His wealth, accumulated through Grupo Carso, spans telecommunications (América Móvil), construction, and retail.

    Warren Buffett

    Founder of Berkshire Hathaway, Buffett was the world’s richest man in 2008 with a net worth of $62 billion at the time. Now 94, he has pledged to donate 99% of his wealth to philanthropy, primarily via the Gates Foundation.

    John D. Rockefeller

    Arguably the original billionaire, Rockefeller built Standard Oil into the world’s most powerful oil empire. He was the first person on public record to be declared the world’s richest man, and his name remains synonymous with wealth and philanthropy.

    A Common Thread: National Influence.

    Interestingly, with the exception of Bernard Arnault and Carlos Slim, all individuals who have held the title of the world’s richest have been Americans. Their wealth has not only shaped industries but influenced politics, public policy, and social development—often blurring the lines between capital and democracy.

    Now, with Musk preparing to challenge the traditional two-party system-duopoly, the U.S. may be on the cusp of a new political era—one where the ultra-rich not only fund political movements but lead them too. If it manifests in the US it will be copied in europe and the rest of the world with serious implications as democracy as we know it today-govt.of the people, by the people and for the people as introduced in Athens,Greece by Cleisthenes in 507 BC may not remain the same. Rather , the role of money, not conscience in choosing political leaders will be heavily influenced by the wealthy not the massses which is curreently a common practice in nascent democracies in Africa and elsewhere in the developing world where they are looking up to the advanced democracies for guidance.

    Over the past century, different individuals have emerged as the world’s richest at various points in time. Interestingly, their wealth has often been derived from the most impactful or trending industries of their era.

    John D. Rockefeller earned his place as the world’s richest man through oil exploration—a sector that, at the time, was the lifeblood of the global economy. Warren Buffett ascended to the top during a period when hedge funds and bond investments dominated the wealth-generation space. Bill Gates, meanwhile, achieved his status during the rise of the Information Technology (IT) revolution. Jeff Bezos capitalized on the explosion of online retail and logistics, while Bernard Arnault built his fortune in the luxury goods market. Today, Elon Musk holds the title, having leveraged the global shift from fossil fuels to electric mobility through Tesla, alongside ventures in space technology, communication (Starlink), and social media (X, formerly Twitter).

    Though all these men have accumulated extraordinary wealth, their approaches to giving back—or not—vary widely. Historically, many of the world’s richest individuals channeled their fortunes into philanthropy or public good. For instance, Bill Gates and Warren Buffett have invested billions into disease eradication, education, and global health through the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation and other initiatives. They have consciously avoided political entanglements, choosing instead to uplift humanity through strategic social investments.

    In contrast, Elon Musk has taken a markedly different route. Until recently, he appeared to share similar philanthropic values. However, his pivot into political funding—culminating in a reported $300 million contribution to President Trump’s 2024 campaign—has placed him at the center of political controversy. His involvement has further intensified since his recent declaration of forming a new political platform, the “America Party,” in opposition to Trump.

    This deviation from the typical billionaire playbook has made Musk a polarizing figure. His political ambitions, particularly his tenure as head of the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), have drawn sharp criticism. Once hailed for his technological innovations—ranging from electric vehicles to reusable rockets—Musk now faces a wave of public backlash. Tesla owners have gone as far as burning their vehicles in protest. His brand has taken a hit, and shareholders have grown increasingly wary of his political entanglements.

    Ironically, Trump and the Republican Party once championed Musk and Tesla. Now, they find themselves in the crosshairs of Musk’s political ambitions. The paradox is as glaring as it is instructive.

    Musk’s fall from grace is not unique. Bill Gates once faced a backlash for predicting the potentially catastrophic impact of COVID-19 on Africa—a projection that proved to be off the mark. He was also accused, without evidence, of supporting eugenics-related research. Yet, Gates has largely maintained his reputation due to his consistent focus on humanitarian causes. The same cannot be said of Musk, whose tenure at DOGE was seen by many as high-handed and out-of-touch.

    Even Rockefeller was not without controversy. He was alleged to have played a role in the 1915 Armenian genocide in the Baku region of present-day Azerbaijan—then under Soviet control. Allegations suggest that, to protect their refinery operations in the region, Rockefeller and the Rothschilds enlisted the Turkish army to forcibly remove the local Armenian population-marking it the first genocide before the Nazi holocaust . Though Turkey has denied the genocide, and the United Nations long withheld recognition, President Joe Biden formally acknowledged it as genocide on April 24, 2021—over a century later.

    Today’s billionaires, particularly those in technology, seem more inclined to pursue profit than purpose. Unlike the Carnegies, Fords, and Rockefellers of old, many modern billionaires are focused on personal indulgence—space tourism, luxury weddings in Venice, and opulent mansions around the globe. In Nigeria, the pattern is strikingly similar.

    Whether their wealth comes from oil, banking, technology, or even law, few Nigerian billionaires are endowing universities, funding scholarships, or building hospitals. While some do engage in philanthropy, (Dangote, Mike Adenuga, Femi Otedola, Toni Elumelu, James lbori, Samad Rabiu etc engage in empowerment or set up educational institutions to support the indigent) the majority appear more interested in lavish lifestyles—hosting extravagant parties in Dubai, buying private jets and fleets of luxury cars, and building palatial homes they rarely inhabit.

    In contrast to this trend, some American billionaires have ventured into politics with varying degrees of success. Ross Perot, founder of Texas Instruments, famously disrupted George H.W. Bush’s 1992 reelection bid by capturing nearly 20% of the vote as an independent. Ralph Nader ran as a Green Party candidate multiple times, while Mike Bloomberg—founder of Bloomberg LP and former mayor of New York—entered the 2020 presidential race as a Democrat, self-funding his campaign to the tune of $1 billion.

    To out the narrative in context, in Nigeria, the closest parallel to Musk’s political move would be if Alhaji Aliko Dangote challenged President Bola Tinubu. Dangote has demonstrated that he would never do that when at the launch of the link road from his refinery by President Tinubu, he humourously instructed the master of ceremony not to refer to him as president/ CEO of Dangote group since the President Tinubu, his superior was there. He is that humble and apolitical. Chief MKO Abiola, a multi- billionaire  tried to become the president of Nigeria by contesting for the top job straight out of the business world during a military dictatorship to democracy in 1993. Unfortunately, he did not only loss his fortune, he also lost his life.

    But while Musk can survive political backlash in a country like the U.S., where institutions are strong, such a move in Nigeria could endanger an entire business empire. Even in the US , already, Musk’s own companies are feeling the pressure. Azoria Partners, an investment firm involved in business with him, has reportedly delayed the launch of a Tesla exchange-traded fund (ETF) due to uncertainty surrounding Musk’s political intentions. That is on top of the fact that Tesla shares have been rising and falling sharply since he dabbled into politics.

    Azoria’s CEO, James Fishback, has called on Tesla’s board to clarify Musk’s political ambitions, warning that the launch of the America Party could erode shareholder confidence. The stock market, sensitive to leadership uncertainty, is watching closely.

    In a previous column a couple of weeks ago, titled “Trump and Musk Feud: A Case for Keeping Politics and Business Separate,” I made the argument that wealthy entrepreneurs should tread carefully when entering the political arena. Government, after all, is the most powerful authority after God. It’s no surprise that Musk may soon have to yield the title of the world’s richest man to Jeff Bezos—again as his vast business empire may further be diminished.

    In Nigeria, similar tensions are playing out. The formation of the African Democratic Congress (ADC) by disenchanted former APC stalwarts mirrors the creation of the America Party in the U.S. disgruntled Musk.

    In both cases, political egos and personal ambition appear to be driving these initiatives—not necessarily a desire to serve the public good.

    It’s hard to imagine that Americans are seeking a messiah in Elon Musk—a man many view with suspicion due to his leadership of DOGE and controversial business practices. Nor are Nigerians likely to be swayed by grand political declarations by the new opposition party in a formation stage. In his speech at the launch of the ADC, former Senate President David Mark , an active participant in politics since the return of multiparty democracy in 1999- 26 years ago proclaimed:

    “Today marks the beginning of what we believe will be a long, difficult, and tedious journey. However, it is a journey that we are prepared to undertake, united in our collective belief that no price or sacrifice is too high in the service of our fatherland.”

    But the Nigerian electorate has grown skeptical. Years of broken promises by political actors have left a deep trust deficit. It remains to be seen whether this new party—like Musk’s in the U.S.—can gain genuine public traction.

    In the end, neither President Trump nor President Tinubu is likely to remain idle. Both are seasoned political operators known for their agility and resilience. As we look ahead to the 2027 (Nigeria) and 2028 (U.S.) elections, it’s clear that the political landscapes of both nations are poised for seismic shifts.

    President Trump has put Musk on notice that he and his numerous businesses may be probed and in Nigeria President Tinubu currently attending a BRICS meeting holding in Brazil may already have his antidote to the ADC threat.

    Overall, both Trump and Tinubu, with midterm in the US still about a year from today and re-election in Nigeria about two years from now, the two leaders have enough time to self correct their policies that are not on point and shore up their voting base to enhance re-electability for Tinubu who has the knack for masterstrokes and sustainance of Republican party’s dominance of all the branches after the midterm elections.

    Magnus Onyibe, an entrepreneur, public policy analyst, author, democracy advocate, development strategist, and alumnus of the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University, Massachusetts, USA, is also a Commonwealth Institute Scholar and a former commissioner in the Delta State government. He sent this piece from Washington D.C., USA.

  • First-class politicians playing second-hand politics to topple Tinubu in 2027 – By Magnus Onyibe

    First-class politicians playing second-hand politics to topple Tinubu in 2027 – By Magnus Onyibe

    The African Democratic Alliance (ADA), the name of the new political party currently seeking registration with the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC)—Nigeria’s electoral umpire—is a platform being floated by a group of top-tier politicians who are presently aggrieved. Their dissatisfaction stems from no longer occupying front-row seats in Nigeria’s political leadership or enjoying unfettered access to the Aso Rock Villa, the seat of presidential power.

    According to media reports, the prominent figures behind this new political vehicle include:

    1. Former Vice President of Nigeria (1999–2007) and presidential candidate of the former ruling party, Waziri Adamawa, Atiku Abubakar

    2. Former President of the 8th Senate and ex-Governor of Kwara State, Bukola Saraki

    3. President of the 6th Senate and military governor of Niger State during the Gen. Ibrahim Babangida regime, David Mark

    4. Former Minister of the Federal Capital Territory (FCT) and immediate past Governor of Kaduna State, Nasir El-Rufai

    5. Former Governor of Rivers State and immediate past Minister of Transportation, Rotimi Amaechi

    6. Former Governor of Anambra State, 2019 PDP vice-presidential candidate, and 2023 Labour Party, LP presidential flag bearer, Mr. Peter Obi

    7. Babachir Lawal, former Secretary to the Government of the Federation under President Muhammadu Buhari

    The list is by no means exhaustive. Others, such as former President Goodluck Jonathan, appear to be operating behind the scenes. Nonetheless, it is not an exaggeration to describe these eight figures as first-class politicians.

    When l  heard in the broadcast media and read in the press the list of the political actors aiming to displace President Tinubu in 2027, what resonated in my mind is the hit song by the American singer, Tina Turner:  What’s Love But a Second-hand Emotion?

    It is being in sync with Tina Turner’s assessment of love, that l dare to classify the promoters of the proposed political platform, ADA as brand new second-hand politicians angling to replace President Tinubu in Aso Rock villa in 2027. For instance, how can El-Rufai, an ardent proponent of Muslim- Muslim presidential ticket be working with Babachir Lawal who is a die-hard opponent of El-Rufai’s ideology and promoter of Christian -Muslim or vice versa presidency to set up together a new political platform?  Notably, it was Babachir who parted ways with Tinubu when he settled for a Muslim- Muslim ticket.

    But the balanced manner in which President Tinubu has so far managed the often magnified differences between muslims and Christians in Nigeria that has revealed how absurd politics can be in Nigeria and a validation of the fact that it is the elite that play up tribal and religious sentiments by emphasizing or exploiting religious differences in Nigeria to the detriment of the unity, harmony and inclusiveness in our country that should drive the greater good and prosperity of all Nigerians.

    Over the 26 years since Nigeria’s return to multi-party democracy, these individuals that l would like to refer to as first-class politicians playing second-hand politics earlier listed have occupied commanding positions within the political landscape. Their experiences span the executive arm—from vice presidents, ministers, and secretaries to the federal government, down to state governors. In the legislative arm, the group also includes two of the most consequential Senate presidents since 1999.

    One of the most vocal actors seeking to torpedo President Bola Tinubu’s re-election bid in 2027 is Mallam Nasir El-Rufai, the immediate past Governor of Kaduna State and former Minister of the FCT. Until recently, he was a key figure within the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC). However, following the Senate’s rejection of his ministerial nomination by President Tinubu, El-Rufai defected to the Social Democratic Party (SDP).

    Expressing his frustration during a recent television appearance, El-Rufai publicly apologized to Nigerians for supporting Tinubu’s rise to the presidency. He also declared that Tinubu would not secure northern votes in 2027:

    “We have polled it. There is a 91 percent disapproval of this administration across the country. 91 percent disapproval is the worst in Nigeria’s history.”

    His comments stand in stark contrast to those of his successor, Governor Uba Sani, and other notable political figures in the north who have dismissed El-Rufai’s assertions and the emerging anti-Tinubu coalition as “hogwash” and lacking substance.

    Regardless, El-Rufai’s ‘apology’ echoes that of former military head of state and ex-president Olusegun Obasanjo, who similarly recanted his support for former Vice President Goodluck Jonathan after he succeeded the late Umaru Musa Yar’Adua as president in 2010. As may be recalled, Obasanjo also ‘apologized’ to Nigerians for backing Jonathan’s presidency.

    Discomfited and disillusioned, former ally of President Bola Tinubu, Nasir El-Rufai, concluded his scathing commentary on Tinubu’s administration—an administration he helped midwife—with the following declaration:

    “Let me contribute towards removing this evil that I believe will destroy Nigeria if left unchecked.”

    In playing a familiar political script, El-Rufai appears to be walking the path previously trodden by former President Olusegun Obasanjo, whose political about-face has become a hallmark of Nigeria’s democracy. What this reveals is a pattern: first-class politicians engaging in second-hand politics.

    A prime example is Obasanjo’s turn against Goodluck Jonathan, a man he had backed for president after the death of President Umaru Yar’Adua in 2010. Fueled by resentment, Obasanjo aligned with his former military colleague and fellow Head of State, General Muhammadu Buhari, to ensure Jonathan’s defeat in the 2015 elections. He joined the “Never Jonathan” movement—dominated by northern political actors who believed that Jonathan had usurped their rightful turn under Nigeria’s informal rotation agreement, a gentlemen’s pact respected by political elites.

    Jonathan’s failure to step aside after completing Yar’Adua’s term triggered a backlash. His perceived breach of the zoning formula—though unwritten—galvanized opposition. Obasanjo’s dramatic withdrawal of support from Jonathan, including the infamous public tearing of his PDP membership card, sealed the latter’s fate. El-Rufai’s recent resignation from the APC—though not as theatrical—mirrors Obasanjo’s defection in both symbolism and intent. El-Rufai simply exited rather loudly and joined the lesser-known Social Democratic Party (SDP).

    Adding to the narrative of recycled political strategy is Obasanjo’s eventual fallout with Buhari, whom he had also helped bring to power. When Buhari’s administration failed to serve his perceived interests, Obasanjo began funding an alternative political movement—a “third force”—made up of former aides and political allies. But it suffered a stillbirth.

    Yet, despite these maneuvers, Buhari won re-election in 2019. This outcome underscores a critical truth: poor economic performance or widespread hardship does not necessarily translate to electoral defeat—especially in Africa. Even in advanced democracies, it is rarely inflation or economic stagnation alone that unseats incumbents. Instead, it is the mishandling of major crises—natural or man-made—that spells doom.

    Donald Trump, for instance, lost the 2020 U.S. election largely due to the allegations that he mishandled the COVID-19 pandemic. Similarly, Jimmy Carter’s failure to navigate the Iran hostage crisis cost him re-election to Ronald Reagan in 1980. Before them, the Watergate scandal forced Richard Nixon to resign, forever altering the landscape of American politics.

    Returning to Nigeria, Jonathan’s loss in 2015 was less about governance failure and more about a political agreement dishonored. The north believed it still had six years left in the rotational presidency arrangement after Yar’Adua’s death. Jonathan’s decision to contest in 2011 and again in 2015 violated that understanding.

    This breach opened the door for Tinubu, then in the opposition, to build a formidable coalition—uniting five political parties into the APC, which eventually defeated the PDP. Fast forward to 2025, and a similar coalition appears to be forming under the African Democratic Alliance (ADA) to stop Tinubu in 2027. Thus, it is fair to describe this latest political effort as “second-hand politics by first-class politicians.”

    But would the ADA politicians have potency of anti-jonathan movement since, denying Tinubu a second term would be an affront to southern politicians who would be aggrieved if a southerner is denied a second term in the manner that northerners felt disappointed that Jonathan stole their mandate when he allegedly usurped Yaradua’s and northern tenure in 2011 and attempted to consolidate it in 2015?

    The difference this time in the structure of the opposition seemingly gathering storm, as El-Rufai pointed out during a TV interview, is that instead of a coalition of five distinct parties as in 2013, the new movement seeks to merge influential individuals from multiple political parties into a single force. The very fact that these ideologically divergent politicians are coming together underscores a longstanding Nigerian political reality: most parties are not ideologically driven, but instead serve as vehicles for individual ambition.

    El-Rufai’s commentary confirms what many have long suspected—that outside a few outliers like Tinubu, who has remained in one party and is ideologically consistent, Nigeria’s political elite are driven more by self-interest than principles. Many of the politicians plotting to unseat Tinubu have switched parties two or three times. Even Obasanjo and Goodluck Jonathan, once seen as more stable figures, have at various times deployed proxies—Obasanjo backing Peter Obi in 2023 being a case in point.

    It appears that the Nigerian electorate is weary of the same old politicians recycling platforms and allegiances like chameleons changing colors. Meanwhile, Tinubu has surged ahead of his rivals—not only attracting opposition heavyweights into the APC but also consolidating control across key geopolitical zones.

    The defections of entire PDP structures in Delta and Akwa Ibom, and the possible vulnerability of Enugu, are just the tip of the iceberg. Tinubu has also forged strategic relationships with smaller parties like APGA (which controls Anambra) and Labour Party (ruling in Abia), parties too small to field serious presidential contenders on their own.

    While the opposition still reels from APC’s aggressive expansion—bringing the number of APC-controlled states to 23 out of 36—Tinubu continues to tighten his grip. One of the boldest plays is his apparent orchestration of a leadership change in the APC, with Dr. Abdulahi Umar Ganduje stepping down as national chairman, potentially to pave the way for Dr. Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso’s entrance into the party.

    Kwankwaso, a former governor of Kano State and head of the grassroots Kwankwasiyya Movement, commands immense political capital. Though he and Ganduje have been bitter rivals (Ganduje once served as Kwankwaso’s deputy in Kano State government ), reconciling them seemed elusive. But Ganduje’s resignation could mark a strategic masterstroke by Tinubu—clearing the path for Kwankwaso to bring his New Nigeria People’s Party (NNPP), which won over a million votes in Kano in the last election, into the APC.

    Whether this political realignment materializes remains speculative. But based on recent developments—especially the wave of defections and high-level negotiations—Tinubu is outmaneuvering his opponents. His political dexterity is even more remarkable when compared to the PDP’s chronic inability to resolve its internal crises.

    The 2023 implosion of the PDP, driven by its refusal to allow Iyorchia Ayu to step down as chairman, despite objections from the G-5 governors led by Nyesom Wike, is a case in point. That failure fractured the party and paved the way for Tinubu’s ascension to the presidency.

    The G-5 (also known as the Integrity Group)—comprising Wike, Seyi Makinde, Samuel Ortom, Okezie Ikpeazu, and Ifeanyi Ugwuanyi—engaged in anti-party activity that fatally wounded Atiku Abubakar’s 2023 bid. Even in defeat, the group continues to plague the PDP, with more defections and internal hemorrhaging accelerating its decline.

    Had the PDP shown half the flexibility Tinubu demonstrated in facilitating Ganduje’s exit, perhaps Ayu’s resignation could have healed the rift. But that never happened. As a result, the PDP, already in political ICU, continues its slide toward irrelevance.

    Sadly, lightning has struck the PDP not once, but twice—first in 2015, and again in 2023. Meanwhile, the Labour Party, like the APC once was, now finds itself in disarray. The difference? Under Tinubu’s stewardship, the APC weathered its storms. In contrast, the PDP and LP appear rudderless.

    In summary, what we’re witnessing today—a coalition of former Tinubu allies now seeking his downfall—closely mirrors past betrayals. It’s a recycled strategy, lacking in originality or ideological conviction. And that is why l have fittingly described it as:

    Second-Hand Politics by First-Class Politicians

    As may be recalled, in 2013, a coalition of PDP governors, known as the G7, objected to the emergence of President Goodluck Jonathan as the PDP’s presidential candidate. Much like the G5 rebellion in 2023, their opposition was rooted in the belief that Jonathan’s bid for re-election would disrupt the informal power rotation agreement between the North and South within the party. Five of those governors eventually defected to the APC under what became known as the nPDP faction, while others remained in the PDP, only to sabotage it from within—just as the G5 governors did a decade later.

    Interestingly, a similar internal crisis that has effectively crippled the PDP once afflicted the APC not long after its formation under extraordinary circumstances. But to the credit of APC’s leadership, the crisis was quickly contained and never allowed to fester—certainly not to the point of causing the kind of irreparable damage that has rendered the PDP severely handicapped as a political party.

    Given this history, one can justifiably conclude that Waziri Adamawa, former Vice President Atiku Abubakar, set the precedent in 2013—a precedent that Nyesom Wike and his G5 colleagues would later follow in 2023 in their own (whether by omission or commission) contribution to the gradual dismantling of the PDP.

    Now, the PDP has become so toxic and dysfunctional that some of its founding members are listed among the key proponents and prospective founders of the African Democratic Alliance (ADA)—a new political platform currently under review by the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) among 110 pending registration applications.

    Whether ADA, if approved, can succeed in its mission—as envisioned by El-Rufai and his cohort of first-class politicians playing second-hand politics—is another matter entirely.

    That’s because President Tinubu seems consistently ahead of his political opponents. While others are attempting to revive the old coalition playbook by forming ADA—a haven for disenchanted ex-members of APC, PDP, LP, and other parties—Tinubu has made that model obsolete. He has done so by absorbing influential opposition figures directly into the ruling APC.

    Once again, unfazed and strategic, President Tinubu appears to be outpacing his rivals, putting finishing touches on new political alliances across key voting blocs—Lagos, Kano, and Rivers—to bolster his 2027 re-election chances.

    In Lagos, Tinubu’s political homestead, which he surprisingly lost in the 2023 presidential election, he has since recalibrated. The loss, attributed to Governor Babajide Sanwo-Olu’s distractions, nearly cost the governor his spot in Tinubu’s inner circle. However, following interventions by trusted allies, Sanwa-olu appears to be back in the president’s good graces and Lagos looking surely locked down for Tinubu’s re-election.

    That is underscored by the reality that ebuilding voter confidence there may not be too difficult with a renewed focus from the governor.

    The situation in Rivers State, however—a political powerhouse in the South—is more complicated. When President Tinubu imposed emergency measures in Rivers State earlier this year, I speculated that the decision might have been based on incomplete or distorted intelligence. Given his credentials as a democracy advocate and veteran of Nigeria’s pro-democracy struggle, a prolonged suspension of democratic governance in such a crucial state was never going to be tenable.

    True to form, Tinubu—known for his ability to reverse course in response to public sentiment—is likely to rescind the six-month emergency rule in Rivers. If peace is brokered between Wike and his estranged godson, Governor Sim Fubara, it could be a political win for Tinubu, turning a moment of crisis into strategic consolidation. In such a scenario, both factions working together to support the president’s 2027 bid would be a game-changing realignment.

    Whatever the terms of that reconciliation may be, the key takeaway is this: where opposition parties like PDP and LP have struggled to hold themselves together—amid defections, internal discord, and leadership failures—President Tinubu is transforming the APC into a well-oiled electoral machine. He is anchoring the party in critical voting blocs and offering a vision of hope through his Renewed Hope agenda—even as Nigerians endure the short-term pains of tough but necessary economic reforms.

    The broader political landscape in Nigeria today seems to echo the wisdom of Brian Herbert, who said:

    “The capacity to learn is a gift. The ability to learn is a skill. The willingness to learn is a choice.”

    President Tinubu and the APC possess both the skill and the willingness to learn and evolve politically. In contrast, the PDP and LP leadership seem incapable of drawing lessons from history. The PDP, in particular, has now allowed lightning to strike twice: first in 2015, and again in 2023—both times due to self-inflicted wounds.

    Meanwhile, Peter Obi, the LP’s 2023 presidential candidate, appears to be drifting into the same pattern as Atiku Abubakar: becoming a serial candidate, having been on the presidential ballot in two consecutive election cycles (2019, 2023, and now eyeing 2027) for a third attempt This redundancy, coupled with party instability, has made the LP vulnerable to the same internal disintegration that plagued the PDP.

    Thus, by 2027, Nigerians may once again find themselves choosing their next president from a recycled pool—a motley crew of brand-new second-hand politicians.

    Magnus Onyibe, an entrepreneur, public policy analyst, author, democracy advocate, development strategist, and alumnus of the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University, Massachusetts, USA, is a Commonwealth Institute scholar and a former commissioner in the Delta State government. He sent this piece from Dallas, Texas, USA.

  • Those calling Tinubu T-Pain today will hail him Baba-T tomorrow – By Magnus Onyibe

    Those calling Tinubu T-Pain today will hail him Baba-T tomorrow – By Magnus Onyibe

    The fact is, President Bola Tinubu is not exactly a miracle worker—but when it comes to political engineering, he comes remarkably close. An objective assessment of his antecedents reveals that he is one of the most astute and prolific political strategists of our time.

    Based on records, and against all odds, he won the 2023 presidential election despite numerous obstacles stacked against him—not just from within the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC), but also from some of his political allies and even his political protégés, who, perhaps believing they had come of age, took up the gauntlet against him in the race for the presidency two years ago.

    Given the formidable forces arrayed against him during the APC primary elections, few political pundits gave him any real chance of winning. Apart from having to contend with the incumbent vice president, the sitting Senate president, and a powerful Minister of Transportation—presumably backed by then-outgoing President Muhammadu Buhari—there were other seemingly insurmountable administrative obstacles placed in his path to the Aso Rock Presidential Villa.

    The primaries were conducted under this toxic atmosphere, with the aforementioned powerful candidates allegedly enjoying Buhari’s endorsement. Tinubu also had to battle candidates from his immediate political family, who went head-to-head with him following the spread of malicious rumors that the president was against his candidacy—a ploy that fractured his support base within his ethnic constituency.

    At that point, Tinubu’s presidential ambition seemed to be heading for an early sunset. But through sheer tenacity and doggedness, he defied the odds. As such, what many expected to be a stillborn ambition—like an ectopic pregnancy—he ultimately prevailed. Hence, Tinubu, a veteran of countless political battles, emerged as the APC’s presidential flag bearer.

    Like a gifted archer, Tinubu had pulled arrows from his quiver and struck his target with precision, persuading a majority of his fellow contenders to step down for him. With that game-changing political masterstroke, he once again proved himself to be a maverick, overwhelming and confounding the remaining contestants. The second-highest number of votes went to the former Minister of Transportation, Mr. Rotimi Amaechi, Buhari’s campaign director, while the third-highest went to then-Vice President and former Lagos State Commissioner for Justice under Tinubu’s governorship, Prof. Yemi Osinbajo.

    By exhibiting superior strategic planning—a skill set that has defined his political career from activism to his time as senator and governor—Tinubu rose to the top of his party’s ticket for the February 14, 2023, presidential election.

    After he secured the APC ticket, another major obstacle emerged: the naira redesign policy, which posed a threat as severe as navigating the Bermuda Triangle. The withdrawal of old naira notes and their replacement with newly designed ones, right in the middle of the campaign season, could have derailed his candidacy. Without cash in the financial system, how could politicians mobilize supporters to the polls?

    Once again, Tinubu navigated the crisis. The Supreme Court’s timely intervention, following a suit filed by concerned APC governors against the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN), suspended the policy. The court’s ruling provided much-needed relief to a suffering electorate and enabled political campaigns to continue.

    On election day—February 14, 2023—despite low voter turnout caused by the toxic political climate and earlier outlined challenges, Tinubu, against all odds, emerged victorious after a brave and tenacious fight.

    He triumphed over the former ruling party,  PDP’s candidate,  ex-vice president Atiku Abubakar, and a surprise candidate, the Labor Party flag bearer, Peter Obi who was in 2019 the vice presidential candidate to PDP’s Atiku Abubakar, the Waziri of Adamawa.

    Despite his victory, his traducers remained unrelenting. After the elections, they challenged the authenticity of his academic credentials. Having exhausted legal options in Nigeria, his detractors turned to the United States, seeking validation from that country’s academic and legal systems. There, too, Tinubu’s academic record was scrutinized and ultimately validated through rigorous processes.

    Given the comprehensive scrutiny—public, electoral, and legal—both in Nigeria and abroad, it is fair to say that President Tinubu’s mandate is arguably the most thoroughly tested and authenticated in Nigeria’s democratic history.

    It is important to revisit Tinubu’s extremely rough path to the presidency to underscore that he is a veteran of many political battles, unafraid of challenges. Therefore the new wave of insecurity currently causing tension—especially the rise in violent conflicts across North-Central Nigeria, notably in Plateau, Benue, and Nasarawa states—will likely be brought under control, just as the president has already made significant strides in addressing Nigeria’s socio-economic challenges.

    The success of President Tinubu’s bold and visionary economic interventions in the past 24 months is evident in the fact that the economic fundamentals that were previously in negative territory have shifted to the positive under his leadership. This turnaround is the result of his tenacity and boldness in confronting entrenched administrative dogmas that have long shackled the country’s progress.

    It was no surprise, therefore, that during his recent solidarity visit to Benue State—after last Wednesday’s deadly attack in Yelewata, which claimed an estimated 200 lives—President Tinubu made a strong and unifying statement:

    “We can not do without one another. I want us to create a leadership committee now to meet in Abuja and fashion out a strategy for lasting peace. And I am ready to invest in that peace.”

    Being a highly trained accountant and an alumnus of the global oil firm Mobil before venturing into politics, President Bola Tinubu has mastered the art of prioritization. Consequently, tackling the monster of insecurity was not at the top of his initial priority list. However, after taking the time to personally visit victims of the latest attacks, he now appears ready to take on the murderous gangs. During his visit, he openly queried the heads of the security agencies in his entourage:

    “How come no one has been arrested for committing this heinous crime in Yelewata? Inspector General of Police, where are the arrests? The criminals must be arrested immediately,” President Tinubu demanded.

    This recalls a similar moment during the military era when then Head of State, General Ibrahim Babangida, during a Supreme Military Council meeting (the equivalent of today’s National Executive Council), publicly asked the Inspector General of Police at the time, Muhammadu Gambo-Jimeta, the now-iconic rhetorical question: “Where is Anini?”

    Anini was the leader of a notorious armed robbery gang that terrorized Nigerians and evaded capture for months—just as today’s internal terrorists continue to torment Nigerians in the hinterlands These insurgents kill defenceless civilians, often burning them alive in their homes, and have done so with impunity and without facing serious consequences.

    But President Tinubu’s visit to the ground zero of internal terrorism in Makurdi, and his charge to the heads of the military, police, and the Department of State Services to apprehend the perpetrators and bring them to justice, signal a major turning point. The president appears to have run out of patience, and his strong directive should make it clear to the outlaws terrorizing our rural communities that the Nigerian government will no longer tolerate their impunity.

    Concerning putting the nation’s economy on even keel, from experience, we know that taming inflation—which is one of the key pathways to delivering the dividends of democracy—does not happen overnight. As history shows, while decline can occur swiftly, recovery often takes more time. Although the lived experiences of most Nigerians are yet to align with the significantly improved economic fundamentals, President Tinubu has succeeded in putting Nigeria on a growth trajectory. This progress has been acknowledged by global rating agencies such as Fitch and Moody’s, as well as institutions like the IMF and World Bank. Even international media outlets like the Financial Times, which once painted a grim picture of Nigeria, are now reporting more optimistically.

    Palpable hope—promised in President Tinubu’s Renewed Hope agenda—appears to be on the horizon.

    Despite the evidential data, still convincing Nigerians that the economy is indeed improving has been difficult. That is irrespective of the arduous but strategic reforms carried out over the past twenty-four months by President Tinubu and his team. It is rather discomforting that many citizens continue to wear long faces, as they are grappling with the high cost of living. They have yet to feel the economic relief being touted, even as the administration marked its second anniversary.

    In my column last week, I broke down the reasons why the benefits of reform do not immediately trickle down to the masses. My intention in that piece, titled “Democracy,  GDP Growth, Poverty and Insecurity in Nigeria”, was to manage the expectations of anxious Nigerians who are still experiencing hardship resulting from the sweeping reforms. I emphasized that while things are indeed improving, the positive outcomes may not be felt immediately in their daily lives.

    In essence, expecting an immediate and significant reduction in the cost of living would be premature. The economic difficulties currently faced by the masses are unintended consequences of the administration’s tough but necessary decisions to unshackle the economy from outdated policies that had long stunted Nigeria’s growth.

    Previously, economic managers opted for short-term relief that only postponed the inevitable, as evidenced by the CBN’s unsustainable and unlawful printing of ₦23 trillion in “ways and means” to pay salaries and fund government operations by Tinubu’s era.

    Such an adhoc and knee-jerk approach to managing the economy has been jettisoned even though its discarding is the source of the harsh socio-economic environment in which Nigerians are currently caught up

    Even Tinubu’s harshest critics admit that, had he not introduced key reforms—such as the removal of the petrol subsidy and the unification of multiple naira-to-foreign currency exchange rates—Nigeria could have faced economic collapse. Continuing on the old path could have rendered the country insolvent and pushed us into a debt crisis like:

    1. Argentina, which experienced multiple debt defaults (notably in 2001 and 2014), leading to devastating economic consequences.

    2. Greece, which went through a severe debt crisis in the late 2000s and early 2010s, resulted in extreme austerity measures.

    3. Venezuela, whose economy collapsed under hyperinflation and debt defaults.

    4. Zambia, which defaulted on its Eurobond debt in 2020.

    5. Pakistan has repeatedly required bailouts from international financial institutions due to recurring debt crises.

    To provide context, I urge Nigerians who are currently agonizing under economic hardship to imagine how much worse life could have been if President Tinubu had not intervened with his bold reform agenda. Compared to the fate of citizens in the countries listed above, Nigeria appears to have dodged a bullet.

    Even former opponents of the reforms now acknowledge their necessity. The changes, while painful in the short term, are essential to placing Nigeria on a stable economic footing. Though hardship is expected at the outset, these difficulties are temporary, and the long-term benefits are beginning to emerge on the horizon.

    The easing of harsh economic conditions, made possible by these structural reforms, is paving the way for the opportunities that Nigerians have long awaited. These are the true dividends of democracy, which have been sought since the return to multi-party democracy in 1999—now twenty-six years ago, as marked on May 29.

    It is because President Tinubu has essentially rescued Nigerians from the kind of socio-economic collapse witnessed in Argentina, Greece, Venezuela, Zambia, and Pakistan, that I confidently declare:

    “Those Calling Tinubu T-Pain Today Will Hail Him as Baba-T Tomorrow.”

    This praise will come in recognition of the relief and transformation he is bound to deliver by eliminating the unsustainable subsidies on petrol, electricity, and the naira amongst other structural deformities hobbling economic growth of our country.

    In the series I began last week titled “Democracy, GDP Growth, Poverty, and Insecurity in Nigeria”, I sought to explain why high GDP growth does not automatically translate into poverty reduction—a universal phenomenon, not one unique to Nigeria.

    The tax reform bills recently passed by the National Assembly and currently awaiting President Tinubu’s signature are some of the most pro-poor policies under his administration. One of the four bills will exempt a category of low-income earners—particularly those at the lower rungs of the socioeconomic ladder—from paying personal income tax. At the same time, it increases taxes on the wealthy, especially on luxury items. This reflects a deliberate wealth redistribution policy.

    The new tax legislation will also incentivize states and cities to attract high-employment-generating businesses to set up operations within their territories. This is because the law provides for a 30% revenue accrual to the state of origin or location of goods and services. Consequently, the business acumen and entrepreneurial orientation of gubernatorial candidates will become increasingly critical in determining who gets elected, as economic strategy will matter more than ever in the governance of Nigerian states. In the US, for instance. States compete to be the host to Tesla, GM, and similar high employment generating corporations.

    When President Tinubu signs these bills into law—as expected—it will be a significant milestone. To me, the most comforting aspect of the tax reform is its pro-poor orientation. This means Nigerians who are already burdened by the tough but necessary reforms of the Tinubu administration will not be further strained. Instead, the tax base will be expanded in a way that spares the poor while drawing more from those who can afford it.

    The revised tax regime introduces new rates and bands. Individuals earning below the national minimum wage will be exempt from taxation. Conversely, those earning ₦50 million and above annually will be subject to progressive increases in their income tax liability.

    These bills—widely regarded as a game-changer in Nigeria’s tax administration—form a critical part of President Tinubu’s Renewed Hope agenda aimed at resetting the country’s economic architecture. They also validate a key argument I made in my column last week: that several economic fundamentals must be in place before the benefits of GDP growth can trickle down to the masses.

    For instance, unless a critical mass of Nigerians understands the link between GDP and poverty reduction, the government can spend a fortune on publicity campaigns touting the administration’s achievements—but many citizens will remain unconvinced This is because, in the minds of ordinary Nigerians, an increase in GDP is falsely equated with immediate poverty relief. That misunderstanding is what I hope to address through this piece.

    In truth, GDP growth is a precursor—not an instant solution—to poverty alleviation. It serves as a silver lining or beacon of hope, provided the policies driving the growth are implemented consistently and all other supporting economic conditions are aligned.

    When Nigerians are equipped with the knowledge that rising GDP does not translate into instant prosperity, their anxiety will subside. They will become less cynical about government pronouncements and more patient as the benefits begin to unfold.

    On May 8, 2023, during the launch of my book “Leading From The Streets: Media Interventions by a Media Intellectual (1999–2019),” a panel discussion on Tinubu’s reform policies was held under the theme “Tinubunomics: What’s Working, What’s Not, Why, and the Way Forward.”

    A striking comment from one of the panelists, Mr. Bala Zaka—an engineer and accountant—went viral. He declared that Nigeria’s economy was “in red, not amber,” painting a bleak picture of the reform trajectory at the time.

    Today, however, even Tinubu’s fiercest critics acknowledge that, under his deft leadership, economic fundamentals have significantly improved. If we were to use the traffic light metaphor, Nigeria’s economy is now in the amber zone—the transition phase just before green, which symbolizes progress and economic rebound. This implies that while the squeeze caused by reform is still being felt, the country is now on a positive trajectory.

    However, the public mistakenly believes that government spokespeople are suggesting that the economy is already in the green. This disconnect is what I seek to clarify—to help reduce the rising tension among anxious Nigerians.

    For example, when I published an article on LinkedIn with the metaphor “the ice is thawing on the Nigerian economy,” many misunderstood me to mean that the storm was over. It led to a wave of criticism and misinterpretation, with some labeling me a Tinubu apologist. It took over a month of continued engagement—using empirical data and economic theory—to clarify the difference between improving economic fundamentals and the lived experiences of ordinary Nigerians.

    That personal experience reinforces my resolve to continuously invest time in educating the public about the dissonance between macroeconomic recovery and micro-level impact. Just because there is light at the end of the tunnel does not mean we are already basking in its illumination.

    Therefore, the objective of this piece is to manage expectations. We are not yet at Uhuru—the economy is not fully out of the woods—but we are on the cusp of stability, provided the reforms are sustained and citizens remain patient.

    Culturally, Nigerians are often accustomed to raising hopes and dashed expectations—not always from politicians, but from everyday interactions. For instance, it’s common for someone who knows they can not arrive in under three hours to promise they’ll be there in 30 minutes. When the promise is inevitably broken, disappointment ensues. In local parlance, this is known as “African Time,” and it symbolizes overpromising and underdelivering.

    In the political realm, former New York Governor Andrew Cuomo aptly described it as: “Campaign in poetry, govern in prose.”

    In contrast, in more developed societies, when you apply for a driver’s license or international passport, you are told to expect it in six weeks, knowing that it can be delivered in a shorter time. And often, you receive it in four. Exceeding expectations builds trust.

    In that context, I advise government officials to refrain from declaring that “the suffering is over”—especially to a public that has long felt alienated from the government, regardless of the administration in power. Instead, we must contextualize the message of hope by reminding Nigerians of where we are coming from and highlighting visible progress:

    • Establishment of NELFUND

    • Minimum wage increase to ₦70,000

    • Elimination of salary backlogs for public servants

    • FX reserves boost at the CBN

    • A stable naira and improved FX availability

    • Declining inflation

    • Elimination of petrol queues.

    Introduction of CreditCorp to offer soft loans to those who need it.

    Once this context is set, we can confidently project into the future—for example, explaining how the four tax reform bills will benefit ordinary Nigerians and foist incomd redistribution while expanding the tax base and generating revenue for government to provide more infrastructure and offer social services.Similarly, we should emphasize the socioeconomic impact of major infrastructure projects such as:

    • The coastal roads – Lagos to Calabar- that will open up rural communities and convert dormant land into valuable assets

    • The Badagry–Sokoto highway, which—like the Lagos–Calabar highway—will traverse multiple states across both the southern and northern regions, spreading development across the country and converting the abundant and currently idle land from dead capital to active capital.

    As I noted in my column last week, the two major road construction projects recently flagged off by the Tinubu administration offer more tangible opportunities for Nigerians—especially those at the lower rungs of society—to escape poverty than mega ventures like the $20 billion Dangote Refinery or the $5 billion Bonga offshore oil exploration project by Shell Petroleum Development Company (SPDC). This is because oil and gas ventures are typically enclave industries: capital-intensive but job-scarce, with high profits concentrated in the hands of a few.

    That said, this does not diminish the significance of the Dangote Refinery and Bonga projects. Far from it—they are catalytic investments with immense long-term benefits. Their eventual trickle-down impact will align with the logic of trickle-down economics, where wealth initially concentrated in the hands of a few gradually spreads through value chain activities such as small- and medium-scale enterprises (SMEs) and the employment of artisans.

    Indeed, the Dangote Refinery is already positioned to demonstrate how trickle-down economics works. Through its ongoing initiative to retail energy—particularly Compressed Natural Gas (CNG)—directly to the masses via an extensive distribution infrastructure, it promises to be a disruptive game-changer in the energy sector.

    All these developments are credible and inspiring enough to renew hope among Nigerians—far more effective than dismissing citizens who express that their lived experiences have yet to align with the rosy economic projections broadcast by government spokespeople

    The truth is, beyond economic data, Nigerians in the streets have difficulty believing that food prices on which they spend 95% of their in income, for example, in Mile 12 market have dropped significantly from a year ago. If President Tinubu stays consistent with his reformist agenda—as he has pledged—then within the next 6 to 12 months, the current economic hardship could ease. At that point, even skeptics may acknowledge him as a leader who delivered.

    Supporters and critics alike will agree that since the administration hit the 18-month mark and paused the introduction of new reforms that directly negatively impact the masses, and promote the policies that are pro poor such duty removal on importation of food, the prices of essential foods and related supplies have stabilized That consistency is a sign that the economic tide may soon turn in favor of ordinary Nigerians.

    Compelled to take direct action in response to the alarming insecurity crisis—particularly after the tragic killing of 200 people in the farming community of Yelwata, Benue State (some estimates put the death toll over 1,000 in the last year)—President Tinubu appears ready to elevate security to a top priority. During his visit, he made a firm vow to protect lives and property and provide critical infrastructure.

    If security improves, food insecurity could also ease, as farmers would be able to return safely to their fields, boosting food production. This, in turn, would allow more Nigerians to feel—not just hear about—the upward trajectory in GDP and other economic indicators. Only then can they fully appreciate and laud President Tinubu and his team.

    In my column last week, I proposed that the president direct security agencies to embark on massive recruitment of able-bodied Nigerian men and women into law enforcement to occupy the fallow spaces that bandits and marauders take refuge. While that proposal wasn’t entirely original to me, it was a prominent component of President Tinubu’s Renewed Hope agenda during his campaign. He had consistently promised to recruit Nigeria’s youth—who make up about 65% of the population—into both the agriculture and security sectors.

    So far, this promise has not climbed up the priority list of  President Tinubu due to the deluge of society’s needs begging for attention. There is a limit of projects and programs that he can implement basically due to the paucity of funds.Therefore, they have largely been fulfilled only on paper. A simple online search using Meta’s AI tool reveals numerous youth-targeted initiatives by the Tinubu administration aimed at empowering young Nigerians through agriculture. These include:

    • The Green Money Project: A presidential initiative designed to empower youth through agriculture by providing training, support, and resources to develop agribusiness potential.

    • Youth Farmers Enrollment Portal: Launched by the federal government to combat unemployment and food insecurity by offering access to training, modern techniques, mentorship, and financial support.

    • Nigerian Youth Academy (NiYA): Focused on building human capital through digital skills, technical education, entrepreneurship, and the creative economy.

    • Youth Investment Fund: Provides capital, mentorship, and business support to young entrepreneurs.

    • Presidential Initiative for Youth Enterprise Clusters: Aims to empower youth with entrepreneurial skills and resources.

    Against Mr. President’s intention, these initiatives remain largely dormant. Their stated objectives—to create jobs, boost food security, empower youth, and grow the economy—have not materialized because they have yet to be fully activated or institutionalized.

    In my assessment, these are well-conceived programs. What’s missing, however, is an ombudsman in the presidency—a dedicated figure or office responsible for driving policy implementation and serving as a conduit for public feedback. That is the central argument of my 2023 book “Leading From the Streets: Media Interventions by a Public Intellectual (1999–2019).”

    It is heartening to note that two recipients of the Leading From the Streets awards—Professor Wole Soyinka and Colonel Abubakar Dangiwa Umar—have recently been recognized by President Tinubu with national honors for their advocacy and contributions to Nigeria’s democratic evolution. Prof. Soyinka was awarded the GCON, and Col. Umar received the CFR.

    However, when the time came to confer the Leading From The Streets award, Col. Umar could not travel to Lagos due to the high-security risks associated with Kaduna at that time. Airlines could neither land nor take off from Kaduna Airport because of credible threats posed by terrorists and criminal elements operating in that corridor at that time.Traveling by road to Abuja feom kaduna at that time was equally highly unsafe.But the road are safer now.It’s both distressing and telling that such a situation with the airport persists. But l am optimistic that in the second half of President Tinubu’s first tenure. Kaduna Airport will be reopened with security guaranteed.

    Nonetheless, in the spirit of Renewed Hope, I remain optimistic that President Tinubu will change this grim narrative—not in months, but in weeks. From all indications, insecurity has finally moved to the top of his priority list.

    If the projections and policy implementations outlined above materialize, I am confident in predicting that those calling Tinubu “T-Pain” today will one day hail him as “Baba-T”—a term of endearment for respected community leaders. In this case, the community is none other than the Nigerian nation.

     

    Magnus Onyibe, an entrepreneur, public policy analyst, author, democracy advocate, development strategist, and alumnus of the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University, Massachusetts, USA, is a Commonwealth Institute scholar and a former commissioner in the Delta State government. He sent this piece from Toronto, Canada.

  • Democracy, GDP growth, poverty, and insecurity in Nigeria – By Magnus Onyibe

    Democracy, GDP growth, poverty, and insecurity in Nigeria – By Magnus Onyibe

    After twenty-six years of uninterrupted democratic governance in Nigeria (1999 to date), the masses had hoped to be enjoying the dividends of democracy by now—primarily through poverty alleviation and improved living standards. However, for a significant number of Nigerians, that dream has remained elusive. Rather than experiencing prosperity, many continue to grapple with poverty, hunger, and rising hardship.

    This harsh reality persists despite the leadership efforts of five presidents since Nigeria’s return to democracy: Olusegun Obasanjo (1999–2007), the late Umaru Musa Yar’Adua (2007–2010), Goodluck Jonathan (2010–2015), Muhammadu Buhari (2015–2023), and Bola Ahmed Tinubu (2023–present).

    Over these 26 years, Nigeria’s economy has witnessed both periods of remarkable growth and phases of stagnation. The nation’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP)—a key indicator of economic productivity—has seen notable fluctuations. For example, during Jonathan’s administration, GDP growth peaked at around 8%, largely driven by high global crude oil prices that exceeded $100 per barrel. In contrast, under the current Tinubu administration, GDP growth hovers around 3.4%, with oil prices now ranging between $65 and $80 per barrel.

    Yet, despite these varying levels of economic performance, the expected transformation in the lives of average Nigerians has not materialized. The dividends of democracy remain out of reach for the majority, as poverty continues to define daily life for many.

    This disconnect is further highlighted by data from a report commissioned by the Buhari administration. According to the 2022 Multidimensional Poverty Index (MPI), a staggering 63% of Nigerians—approximately 133 million people—were classified as multidimensionally poor before Tinubu’s presidency. This means a significant portion of the population suffers from deprivation not just in income, but across multiple areas including healthcare, education, living conditions, and access to work or protection from economic shocks.

    In essence, despite positive macroeconomic indicators like GDP growth, the lived experience of most Nigerians tells a different story. This gap between economic statistics and street-level reality is a recurring dilemma in development economics—one that policymakers struggle to explain to populations undergoing structural reforms while still mired in daily hardship.

    While government officials and economic advisers may celebrate rising GDP as evidence of progress, ordinary Nigerians are more concerned about their ability to afford food, pay rent, access medical care, and meet transportation costs. Today, with the naira severely devalued and denominations like ₦5, ₦10, and ₦20 effectively worthless, it’s difficult for citizens to believe in slogans like “Renewed Hope” when their basic needs remain unmet.

    Many are overwhelmed by hunger and homelessness, with inflation making essential goods and services increasingly unaffordable. In such a context, official rhetoric about economic growth sounds abstract—if not completely alien—to the struggling masses.

    This stark mismatch between government optimism and popular despair explains why many Nigerians feel disillusioned. After 26 years of democracy, they expected a nation on the path to prosperity. Instead, they are left questioning whether the system has truly worked for them.

    The situation described above is the current reality for most Nigerians. This has compelled me to take a closer look at the disconnect between rising GDP figures and the persistent poverty experienced by citizens. Specifically, I aim to explore why economic growth—reflected in higher GDP—does not automatically translate into an improved standard of living or immediate poverty reduction.

    This reality contradicts the assumptions held by many Nigerians who mistakenly believe that GDP growth will swiftly lead to poverty eradication. In truth, and largely unknown to the general public, poverty reduction requires the convergence of multiple factors working together in sync. Until these elements align harmoniously, the so-called dividends of democracy will not effectively reach the grassroots.

    To put it simply, GDP tends to measure the concentration of wealth, typically in the hands of the elite. Unless that wealth is reinvested in productive ventures that generate employment and include the poor, poverty reduction remains elusive—more a dream than a measurable outcome.

    Through this piece, I aim to clarify the often misunderstood relationship between GDP, poverty, and insecurity. Without a clear understanding of these links, ordinary Nigerians will continue to feel disconnected from government proclamations about economic progress, especially when those claims don’t align with their daily struggles.

    For the average citizen, rising GDP means little if food remains unaffordable, transportation costs are unbearable, and basic needs like housing and healthcare are out of reach. Until the cost-of-living crisis eases and daily life becomes less punishing, many will continue to mockingly refer to President Tinubu as “T-Pain”—a nickname that emerged in response to the painful, short-term effects of his reform agenda.

    Yet, it’s important to note that economic reforms take time. There is always a gestation period before policies yield tangible results. Because these reforms require a complex mix of socio-economic factors to align, public patience understandably wears thin, especially among those struggling to survive.

    This article is my attempt to bridge the gap between policy architects and the masses. By using relatable examples, I hope to shed light on how economic development works, and why GDP growth doesn’t always equate to immediate poverty reduction.

    Take, for example, the $20 billion Dangote Refinery in Lekki, Lagos. While this mega-project will undoubtedly boost Nigeria’s GDP, it does not directly create a large number of jobs for low-income earners, as it is capital-intensive and employs mainly high-skilled labor. In contrast, the ongoing construction of the 750-kilometer Lagos-Calabar coastal highway by Hitech Construction will have a more immediate impact on poverty reduction. Road construction tends to be labor-intensive and creates a wide array of job opportunities—from engineers and skilled technicians to informal workers, food vendors, and even homeowners renting rooms to laborers along the project corridor.

    These examples illustrate a crucial point: economic growth and poverty alleviation are not always simultaneous or automatic. They often unfold in phases, depending on how different sectors interlink and how policies are implemented and sustained over time.

    Ultimately, the lengthy implementation period of reforms often leads to public frustration, especially when politicians have raised expectations during campaigns with ambitious promises. Sadly, this pattern has become a recurring problem in Nigeria, and it is the root of the disillusionment currently gripping the nation.

    When President Bola Tinubu returned to Lagos for the first time a few months after assuming office, it was expected to be a celebratory homecoming. However, the mood was quickly sobered when he was met by chants of “ebin kpa wa”—Yoruba for “we are hungry”—from frustrated Lagos youths.

    This public outcry likely struck a chord with Tinubu, who, as a former governor of Lagos and a native son of the state, could not ignore such a message. In response, his administration swiftly removed import duties on food items to ease the skyrocketing cost of living, worsened by the elimination of subsidies on petrol and the naira. These decisions, although economically necessary, triggered a widespread cost-of-living crisis that continues to burden millions of Nigerians.

    Adding to the crisis is the escalating insecurity in rural areas, where farmers are unable to work their land due to fear of attacks—resulting in declining food production and worsening scarcity.

    During his most recent 10-day visit to Lagos to celebrate Sallah, President Tinubu, now midway through his term, acknowledged that food prices remain high and that many citizens are suffering economic hardship. To his credit, he did not attempt to downplay the challenges Nigerians face. He reminded the public that he inherited a nation in financial distress, and that the reforms he introduced—though painful—were necessary to stabilize the country.

    There are valid arguments suggesting that, without these reforms, Nigeria could have spiraled into a crisis akin to Venezuela’s—a fellow oil-rich nation plagued by economic collapse, a classic case of the “resource curse.” Tinubu’s government has sought to reverse decades of flawed policies—such as fuel, currency, and electricity subsidies—that were originally introduced as temporary solutions but eventually became entrenched, contributing to Nigeria’s long-term underdevelopment over its nearly 65 years of independence.

    In his Democracy Day speech on June 12, Tinubu reaffirmed his identity as a progressive by honoring 66 of his fellow democracy activists with national awards—individuals who fought alongside him for the restoration of civilian rule after years of military dictatorship. He also admitted that Nigeria has not yet become the prosperous nation its people hope for, but assured citizens that relief is on the way through new programs and projects aimed at addressing their struggles.

    Yet, as the saying goes, “talk is cheap.” For many Nigerians, government rhetoric—amplified since May 29 through widespread media campaigns showcasing the administration’s midterm achievements—rings hollow. A significant gap remains between official claims of progress and the harsh realities felt by ordinary citizens across the country.

    This disconnect between rising GDP figures and deepening poverty is not unique to Nigeria; it’s a global challenge. Economists have long debated why economic growth doesn’t automatically reduce poverty. Several theories attempt to explain this:

    1. Kuznets Curve: Proposed by Simon Kuznets, this theory suggests that as economies grow, inequality initially rises but eventually falls once a certain level of development is reached.

    2. Trickle-Down Economics: This theory argues that wealth generated at the top eventually benefits the lower classes. However, critics argue that this process is often slow, incomplete, or entirely ineffective.

    3. Unequal Exchange Theory: This concept highlights how developing countries often engage in trade relationships that favor developed nations, leading to persistent poverty and inequality at home.

    4. Dependency Theory: It suggests that developing nations are structurally dependent on developed countries, which keeps them locked in cycles of poverty and underdevelopment.

    The gap between GDP growth and actual improvements in people’s lives is due to complex and often overlooked factors. To make this clearer, I drew an analogy between two major projects: the Dangote Refinery and the Lagos-Calabar Coastal Highway by Hitech Construction. While the refinery significantly boosts Nigeria’s GDP through high-value industrial output, it creates relatively few jobs for low-income earners. On the other hand, the highway project—though smaller in GDP impact—generates widespread employment for engineers, laborers, vendors, and local landlords, offering more direct poverty relief.

    This comparison helps illustrate the subtle but crucial difference between economic growth and equitable development—something policymakers must keep in mind when designing reforms intended to benefit all Nigerians, not just a privileged few.

    1. Income Inequality

    GDP growth doesn’t automatically result in fair wealth distribution. Often, the benefits are concentrated among a privileged few, leaving the wider population with limited access to opportunities and resources. A prime example is the $20 billion Dangote Refinery—while it boosts GDP, it risks deepening income inequality unless the benefits are widely shared.

    2. Poverty and Unemployment

    Economic growth does not guarantee lower poverty or unemployment rates, particularly when it is driven by capital-intensive sectors that create few jobs. Projects like the Dangote Refinery and the $5 billion Bonga offshore oil field investment exemplify such growth—they contribute significantly to GDP but generate limited employment for the general population.

    3. Inflation and Rising Cost of Living

    While GDP growth can be a positive indicator, it often comes with inflation that erodes purchasing power. When the cost of goods and services rises faster than wages, the majority of citizens feel no tangible improvement in their lives. This is the current Nigerian experience: despite monetary tightening policies from the Central Bank, inflation continues to impoverish the masses.

    4. Inadequate Social Services and Infrastructure

    Growth in GDP does not always reflect improvements in public services such as education, healthcare, or infrastructure. Unless economic gains are reinvested into these sectors, the benefits may not reach the broader population. That said, both government and philanthropic efforts—led by figures like Tony Elumelu, Aliko Dangote, and Mike Adenuga—along with investments in railway and road infrastructure, are helping to close this gap.

    5. Corruption and Weak Governance

    Poor governance and corruption can significantly undermine the advantages of economic growth. When the gains from GDP expansion are siphoned off by corrupt elites, the population sees little to no improvement in their lives. Unlike his predecessor, Muhammadu Buhari—who declared a war on corruption in 2015—President Tinubu has taken a quieter, action-oriented approach. Though he hasn’t made loud proclamations, Tinubu has shown commitment by removing corrupt officials, such as former Humanitarian Affairs Minister Dr. Betta Edu, when credible allegations emerged. His strategy leans more toward silent enforcement than public grandstanding.

    These factors contribute to the persistent gap between GDP growth and improvements in the living standards of everyday Nigerians. Unless these issues are tackled through well-designed, mass-oriented policy implementation, economic growth will continue to feel distant and disconnected from the realities on the ground.

    Interestingly, many of the root causes behind the gap between a rising GDP and worsening poverty—issues that also fuel insecurity and public discontent—are already being targeted by the Tinubu administration through various poverty reduction initiatives.

    However, the government has struggled to effectively communicate its efforts. The absence of a clearly structured and consistently communicated policy framework has left many Nigerians unaware of what is being done. This communication failure has opened the door for critics to brand Tinubu’s administration as reactive and directionless. In reality, these reforms are gradually improving Nigeria’s economic fundamentals—a fact recognized by institutions like the IMF, World Bank, Fitch, Moody’s, and even The Financial Times of London. Yet, the absence of a compelling domestic narrative leaves many Nigerians unconvinced, even as the government celebrates these international endorsements.

    In my assessment, the Tinubu administration has implemented several policies intended to ensure that GDP growth translates into real poverty reduction. These include:

    A) Pro-Poor Growth Strategies

    These are targeted policies aimed at reducing poverty and inequality, particularly through social welfare programs and human capital investments.

    To this end, the administration established a dedicated Ministry of Humanitarian Affairs tasked with supporting vulnerable populations. One key initiative under this ministry is the Conditional Cash Transfer scheme.

    Though the program initially faced criticism over the low stipend amount, President Tinubu responded by increasing the cash benefit from ₦25,000 to ₦75,000 for 15 million households, according to the National Social Safety Net Coordination Office.

    B) Job Creation and Youth Empowerment

    Efforts to reduce unemployment have focused on promoting entrepreneurship, job creation, and skills development.

    Beyond the initiatives led by various state governors and their spouses, the Federal Ministry of Education recently launched the Technical and Vocational Education and Training (TVET) program. This program aims to equip Nigerian youth—especially internally displaced persons (IDPs) and other vulnerable groups—with practical skills in areas like digital coding, cloud computing, and data analytics. Participants are provided with seed capital and equipment to enable them to become self-employed and economically active.

    Before this, private sector actors like the Tony Elumelu Foundation (TEF) had been pioneering similar youth empowerment initiatives across Africa. The federal government’s current program appears to be a scaled-up, national version of that successful private sector model.

    C) Social Protection Programs

    These initiatives act as a safety net for society’s most vulnerable, offering support in the form of subsidies, direct aid, and empowerment tools.

    First Lady Senator Oluremi Tinubu has played a hands-on role by visiting various states—such as Rivers, Delta, Bayelsa, Enugu, and others—to distribute empowerment tools including medical equipment, grinding machines, and refrigerators. These programs cut across party lines and aim to uplift women and disadvantaged communities.

    D) Human Capital Investment

    A major part of reducing poverty lies in long-term investment in education, healthcare, and essential social services.

    On the education front, high-caliber institutions like Charterhouse UK have established a branch in Lagos, signaling growing confidence in Nigeria’s private education sector. These developments are expected to reduce the outflow of foreign exchange spent on sending children abroad for secondary and tertiary education.

    Further supporting this effort is the Nigerian Education Loan Fund (NELFUND), a key initiative under Tinubu’s administration. NELFUND enables access to tertiary education for nearly 300 million Nigerian students (likely referring to applicants or potential beneficiaries over time), encouraging more students to study locally rather than abroad and rejuvenating local universities in the process.

    In the healthcare sector, the opening of high-quality medical institutions such as Evercare Hospital in Lagos—funded through venture capital—and the African Medical Centre of Excellence (AMCE) in Abuja—supported by the African Development Bank (AfDB)—marks a significant upgrade in local healthcare infrastructure.

    These advancements are projected to significantly reduce the $1 billion annually lost to medical tourism. Much like the elimination of petrol and naira subsidies, which has saved billions and cut petrol imports by approximately 30 million liters annually, improved healthcare services at home are expected to curb the financial drain on foreign healthcare spending.

    Although many of these projects are private-sector-led, they are no less vital. They contribute meaningfully to national productivity, improve the quality of life, and help align GDP growth with poverty reduction goals.

    Understanding the Disconnect Between GDP Growth and Poverty Alleviation

    Although Nigeria’s economy has experienced measurable growth, the benefits have not translated into improved living conditions for the majority. Several systemic factors help explain this gap:

    • Wealth Concentration: When economic progress disproportionately benefits the wealthy few, poverty and inequality remain deeply entrenched.

    • Growth Without Jobs: Economic expansion driven by industries that rely heavily on machinery and technology often fails to create jobs, especially for unskilled labor.

    • Weak Social Safety Nets: In the absence of robust welfare programs, vulnerable populations are left exposed to economic volatility and hardship.

    Tackling the Roots of Poverty and Inequality

    Closing the gap between economic growth and real improvements in living standards requires targeted, inclusive interventions. Key areas of focus include:

    • Quality Education and Skills Training: Boosting literacy and access to functional education is essential. Initiatives like the Helpers Social Development Foundation’s free schooling and sponsorship for students are vital in empowering young Nigerians.

    • Empowering Women and Educating Girls: Fostering equal opportunities for women through education and economic initiatives not only uplifts families but positively shapes the next generation.

    • Fighting Corruption: Transparent governance and stronger accountability frameworks are critical to ensure public funds serve their intended developmental purposes.

    • Fairer Income Distribution: Adopting strategies that shift resources toward low- and middle-income earners can stimulate consumption, spur local industries, and generate employment.

    • Infrastructure Development: Strategic investments in transportation, power supply, and digital infrastructure can connect markets, improve efficiency, and drive inclusive growth.

    • Diversifying the Economy: Moving away from oil dependency by supporting agriculture, small businesses, and tech innovations will foster long-term stability and job creation.

    • Affordable Healthcare: Strengthening the healthcare system reduces the economic strain of illness on families and enhances national productivity.

    • Expanding Financial Access: Improving access to financial services—especially in rural areas—through digital banking and fintech tools enables broader economic participation.

    • Strengthening Social Programs: Initiatives like conditional cash transfers, food support, and targeted subsidies must be scaled up to cushion the most vulnerable.

    Practical Measures for Redistribution

    Achieving a more equitable society demands well-structured redistribution mechanisms, including:

    • Progressive Taxation: Tax systems where high earners contribute more can fund essential public services.

    • Social Assistance: Direct support programs like unemployment benefits, food aid, and housing assistance offer immediate relief to low-income groups.

    • Minimum Wage Enforcement: Guaranteeing fair wages helps lift working families out of poverty.

    • Accessible Public Services: Investing in public healthcare and education provides critical upward mobility pathways for disadvantaged communities.

    • Cash Transfers and Subsidies: Financial support through direct payments or subsidies for essentials like housing and energy helps bridge economic gaps.

    • Tax Credits: Reducing tax burdens for low-income earners can improve household financial security.

    • Affordable Housing Projects: Public housing schemes play a key role in combating urban poverty.

    • Skills and Job Training: Government-led programs that teach vocational and digital skills increase employability and self-sufficiency.

    Both federal and state governments have already established skill acquisition centers nationwide to support this agenda.

    Additionally, the National Assembly is currently reviewing four tax reform bills, aimed at easing the pressure on low-income earners while expanding the government’s revenue base.

    Closing the Trust and Communication Gap

    While the administration has highlighted President Tinubu’s midterm achievements with pride, everyday Nigerians remain unconvinced. With inflation, unemployment, and insecurity still pressing, citizens see little evidence of improvement in their day-to-day lives.

    As former Lagos governor Babatunde Fashola once framed it, the “stomach infrastructure”—the basic needs of food, shelter, and security—still feels out of reach for many.

    To win public trust, the government must do more than promise reforms. It must deliver results—and communicate them clearly and honestly. Many of its initiatives remain disjointed and underdeveloped. What’s needed now is strategic execution, tangible progress, and a compelling narrative that assures Nigerians that better days are not just promised—they’re coming.

    Of all the challenges that President Tinubu inherited from his predecessor, including rescuing the country from the brinks of bankruptcy as it was weighed down by foreign and local debts to the IMF, foreign banks and airlines, some of which have commendably been repaid, even as the, CBN has also recorded increase in FX balance in the national treasury

    Similarly, the good news that state oil behemoth, NNPC has ramped up crude oil production to 1.8 million per day from a low production of about 1.2 million per day some two years ago, with a target of 2 million BPD is partly responsible for higher FX inflow into the CBN. That is cherry news, however, the economy is still not out of the woods, although it is effectively on the trajectory of recovery.

    In the same vein, the erstwhile volatility in the naira exchange rates with foreign currencies and its scarcity that had been the bane of the Nigerian economy have been relatively stabilized to about N1,600/$1.

    That is on top of the fact that FX has become readily available on demand which is quite unlike in the past when sourcing hard currencies was like a nightmare for manufacturers who need to import raw materials to keep their factories in operation. The failure to successfully source FX is the reason that some of them were forced to shut down operations and relocate from Nigeria to other climes particularly Ghana and other neighboring countries from where they were producing essential items and exporting to Nigeria further causing our country to lose income by exporting capital.

    Thankfully the exodus of manufacturing firms is no longer the case. Rather those who fled are likely going to be returning soon as the business environment changes for the better.

    By far the worst thorns in the flesh of most Nigerians in terms of impact are not the inflation rate which remains high but coming down to a little over 23% nor the price of petrol which is currently hovering around N800 per litre, down from N1,300, but not yet where it should be. Rather the challenges that have lingered like malignant tumors are (1)insecurity of lives and properties, and (2) the outrageous hike in electricity charges currently designated into band A to E without commensurate supply to consumers who see the ill-conceived development in the electricity supply system as a scam.

    Although the human carnage arising from the constant murder of innocent people in the Kaduna and Borno states northern Nigeria has abated since president Tinubu mounted the saddle in Aso Rock villa, the alarming rate of vicious killings in the middle belt states of Benue and Nassarawa which have become the new epicenter of violent displacement of farmers by heavily armed bandits is worrisome and unacceptable, so it needs being addressed frontally by President Tinubu as he has affirmed in his statement following the murder of an estimated 200 people in Benue state over the last weekend.

    Apparently,  while President Tinubu has recorded significant progress in other segments of society as earlier catalogued, he appears to be confounded and overwhelmed by the alarming scourge of insecurity as evidenced by the escalation of killings in the past couple of years, especially in Benue and Plateau states.

    The Benue state governor Hycinth Alia’s allegations that the killing of villagers in his state by heavily armed bandits who also burn the houses resulting in the villagers fleeing into the bushes while abandoning their homes and which is often followed by the arrival of herdsmen and their cattle should be investigated.

    That would help determine if indeed the attacks have international dimensions/elements and the invasion and seizure of our lands to be occupied by foreigners which is the unfolding scenario, is not a very high security threat to the sovereignty of Nigeria since the Wagner group (Russian private military contractors for hire) and other foreign mercenaries are currently operating in neighboring countries like Niger Republic, Mali and Burkina Faso which have withdrawn their membership of ECOWAS -a regional organization serving the common interests of the nation that are located in the region.

    In light of the above, it would appear as if instead of insecurity going down, it has been rising under President Tinubu’s watch.

    That is not good optics for the incumbent administration. As such, tackling insecurity needs to be prioritized by President Tinubu. It is a promise that he has made for the umpteenth time but the talk has not been transformed into action.

    So, l would like to suggest that in the same manner that President Tinubu has significantly tamed inflation, stabilized the naira and ended petrol pump price subsidy, insecurity that is making the Benue and Nassarawa states look like killing fields, metaphorically, should compel the president, commander- in- chief of the armed forces of Nigeria, Tinubu to dorn his thinking cap and figure out, an out-of- the -box way, how to guarantee the security of the lives and properties of the Nigerians living in Benue and Nassarawa states who have been under siege by vicious outlaws without protection the federal government which our compatriot in those targeted states are entitled.

    Some of the options available to President Tinubu include defeating the bandits by dislodging them from our forests from where they launch the attacks and retreat to hide by ensuring that our law enforcement officers occupy the forests permanently and do not leave the forests fallow for the outlaws to re-occupy.

    In this regard, the concept of forest guards earlier proposed should be activated without further delay. There is no doubt that insecurity in Nigeria needs to be de-escalated so that the other goals of the administration such as the reduction of food inflation due to the inability of rural dwellers to attend their farms. To protect them so that their fundamental human rights will not be continuously violated, they need to save themselves from the dastardly activities of bandits terrorizing our fellow countrymen and women in the hinterlands of the states that are reputed to be the breadbasket of Nigeria.

    In my assessment, the reason, the villagers in north central Nigeria are being decimated wantonly by the bandits is that the criminal elements are armed with sophisticated weapons while the victims are unarmed.

    Justified by the reality that the prevailing dire atmosphere of violence in Benue and Nasarawa states requires extraordinary measures to counteract, President Tinubu may need to take some extraordinary measures which should not be a declaration of emergency rule which would amount to killing democracy softly.

    Unsurprisingly, some unusual actions are being recommended as a panacea.

    As if to create an atmosphere of balance of force, a former chief of Defense staff, Gen.T.Y Danjuma (rtd) had advised his people from Taraba state and environ who were at some point targets of the outlaws to arm themselves to protect themselves otherwise they will be killed continuously as the Nigerian government has proven incapable or unwilling to protect them from the marauders. In a similar vein, the Director-General of State Security Services, DS Mr Adeola Oluwatosin Ajayi also recommended the arming of people in vulnerable communities for self-protection.

    The above recommendations are patently extreme as they contravene the 1999 constitution of Nigeria which provides that only members of the armed forces should bear sophisticated arms.

    Apart from law enforcement officers, the statutes book permits issuing licenses to civilians only for hunting.

    So, proposing that locals who are not members of the military or law enforcement agencies should bear arms must have been made due to the hopelessness and helplessness of the vulnerable communities by the high-ranking and well-respected former army chief of staff and the current chief security intelligence officer.

    But are there no alternative measures that can be taken as a counteroffensive to the armed bandits wreaking havoc in our hinterlands?

    My hunch is that if we engage in critical thinking there would be more viable solutions to the menace.

    I recently came across a news report indicating that about 6,000 cadet police officers had just been recruited and commissioned.

    In my view that is very minuscule.

    To rein in insecurity in Nigeria, the authorities need a massive recruitment of law enforcement officers of at least 100,000 not 6,000 every year in the next five (5) years until the ogre of insecurity has been killed.

    To achieve that objective of creating a surge in security personnel to repel the current wave of attacks by the outlaws, the option is to adopt the existing local vigilante groups into the special force, which most states and regional governments are falling back on for security in their respective states and regions.

    Their members should constitute the core of the recruits as law enforcement personnel being proposed since they have already undergone through preliminary training.

    They can be easily transitioned into the state police which has been on the drawing board for the past 26 years since multi-party democracy returned in Nigeria in 1999. If the state police option is not viable they can be adopted into a community police system.

    It is on record that it is during the reign of President Olusegun Obasanjo (1999-2007) that the concept of state police was first mooted.

    For swiftness in action, conditions or prerequisites for the recruitment of the vigilante personnel into the special forces should be lowered. And all the men/ women who exited the military or law enforcement agencies under extraordinary circumstances should be considered for recruitment into the force.

    They should not be recruited into the traditional police force rather they should be designated as special police in the manner that SPY police which is essentially dedicated to guard duties in banks was formed and is currently being operated.

    When insecurity ebbs in five years or thereabout, the special force can be disbanded with the option of the men/women engaged to be absorbed into the other law enforcement agencies after being retrained.

    President Tinubu must declare zero tolerance for insecurity which is giving oxygen to all the  socioeconomic and political challenges bedeviling our beloved nation.

    Magnus Onyibe, an entrepreneur, public policy analyst, author, democracy advocate, development strategist, an alumnus of the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University, Massachusetts, USA, a Commonwealth Institute scholar, and a former commissioner in the Delta State government, sent this piece from Lagos.

  • Trump and Musk feud: A case for keeping business and politics separate – By Magnus Onyibe

    Trump and Musk feud: A case for keeping business and politics separate – By Magnus Onyibe

    Picture a scenario in which Africa’s richest man, Alhaji Aliko Dangote, invested $250 million in 2023 to support the presidential campaign of APC candidate Bola Ahmed Tinubu. Let’s assume Dangote, being the shrewd businessman he is, found a legal way to avoid violating campaign finance limits that cap how much individuals can contribute to political campaigns.

    Now imagine that this strategic support played a major role in Tinubu’s victory two years ago, helping him secure the presidency and giving the APC a majority in both chambers of the National Assembly. As a token of appreciation, President Tinubu appoints Dangote to lead a newly created government agency focused on cutting waste and improving public sector efficiency.

    In this imagined scenario, Dangote’s new role comes with the tough task of ending long-standing subsidies on petrol and foreign exchange—two policies widely seen as obstacles to Nigeria’s economic growth since independence in 1960. Because these subsidies have become deeply embedded in public expectations over the past four decades, rolling them back sparks outrage and resistance.

    Now take it a step further: suppose Dangote, despite his brilliance, begins behaving inappropriately—perhaps mocking civil servants who lost their jobs or appearing in Aso Rock with his toddler riding on his shoulders in a moment of eccentric public display. President Tinubu, noticing these missteps, decides to relieve him of his duties respectfully and even presents him with a symbolic key to the villa as a gesture of goodwill.

    But soon after the House of Representatives passes four key tax reform bills—awaiting Senate approval—Dangote lashes out, branding the bills a “disgusting abomination.” Concerned that the new laws could undermine the business advantages his firm had been enjoying, he threatens to use his influence to ensure APC lawmakers are voted out in the next elections.

    This outburst provokes President Tinubu, who publicly quips that Dangote might be suffering from a mental health issue. What should have remained a private policy disagreement between allies begins to spill into the public sphere, with the potential to spiral into a full-blown political crisis.

    Dear readers, this imagined scenario is not about Nigeria, President Tinubu, or Aliko Dangote—the visionary industrialist behind the Dangote Refinery and Petrochemical complex that’s transforming Nigeria from a raw exporter of crude oil into a net exporter of refined petroleum products.

    Rather, this story mirrors the real-life political drama currently unfolding in the United States between President Donald J. Trump—back in office as the 47th president—and Elon Musk, the world’s richest man and owner of Tesla, SpaceX, and other powerful tech ventures.

    Their feud highlights the perils of blurring the lines between business and politics. It serves as a cautionary tale for democracies around the world about why these two powerful domains—each critical in its own right—must remain independent to preserve institutional integrity and public trust.

    Simply put, the situation described above isn’t unfolding in a struggling third-world nation where democratic principles are still being grasped. Rather, it is playing out in the United States—the wealthiest, most powerful nation in the world, and widely regarded as the global standard-bearer for democracy.

    For me, there are several critical takeaways from this evolving saga in America.

    First, it reinforces the reality that democracy is still an evolving system of governance, even centuries after its roots in ancient Athens under Cleisthenes in 508 BCE.

    Who would have imagined that campaign finance laws in the U.S.—particularly the caps on individual contributions to political candidates—could be so cleverly circumvented? Yet Elon Musk appears to have done just that, reportedly channeling around $250 million into Donald Trump’s 2024 campaign without violating existing laws.

    Second, the unfolding events affirm the old adage: “What money cannot do, more money can.” Musk himself boasted that without his financial engineering—leveraging “Super PACs” to funnel as much as $1 million per voter in key swing states—Trump and the Republican Party may not have secured victories in the White House and both chambers of Congress. According to Musk, his financial intervention was instrumental in Trump’s success in the November 5, 2024 election. As he warned at the time, “In November, we fire all Republicans who betrayed Americans.”

    This demonstrates that, just like in many fledgling democracies of the developing world, money—not ideology or principles—is often the decisive factor in American elections, with votes going to the highest bidder.

    Third, the very public clash between Musk—head of Tesla and SpaceX—and President Trump has peeled back the curtain on the inner workings of the U.S. government. It exposes a long-held double standard: while the West criticizes African nations for implementing public subsidies, it often does the same, albeit in more discreet and sophisticated forms. Through institutions like the World Bank and IMF, wealthy nations pressure developing countries to eliminate subsidies, despite quietly propping up their own industries using similar mechanisms.

    This hypocrisy has been starkly revealed by the Trump-Musk fallout. The feud has exposed how Musk’s companies have been supported through generous government contracts and subsidies—an arrangement that mirrors the kind of state-enabled capitalism often criticized in the Global South.

    Fourth, the idea that oligarchs are a uniquely Russian or African phenomenon has been shown to be misleading. Musk’s companies, Tesla and SpaceX, are now understood to have benefitted significantly from U.S. government support. In Trump’s own words:

    “The easiest way to save money in our Budget—Billions and Billions of Dollars—is to terminate Elon’s Governmental Subsidies and Contracts. I was always surprised that Biden didn’t do it!”

    This outburst came in response to Musk labeling Trump’s “Big Beautiful Bill” as a “disgusting abomination.”

    So, isn’t it both ironic and hypocritical that powerful Western nations instruct poorer countries to avoid government subsidies, while engaging in the same practices behind the scenes? By financially supporting domestic corporations that build wealth through state contracts, the West is not far removed from the same oligarchic systems it routinely condemns.

    In conclusion, the Trump-Musk dispute is not merely a clash of egos. It is a revealing episode—one that lays bare the contradictions and vulnerabilities within the democratic and capitalist systems of even the world’s most advanced nation.

    The purpose of this intervention is not to dwell on the sensational fallout between Donald Trump and Elon Musk—an alliance turned sour and now dominating headlines across both mainstream and social media, generating intense political controversy. That story has already been heavily dissected and discussed.

    Rather, what concerns me is the unfortunate nature of this public spat, which has erupted barely 63 days into what was initially viewed as a promising political partnership between Trump, the President of the United States and figurehead of global democracy, and Elon Musk, the world’s richest man and a symbol of technological innovation.

    Unsurprisingly, their clash has created a tense atmosphere, casting a dark cloud over the U.S. political landscape—an ironic turn for a nation that prides itself on being the model of democratic governance.

    It is this deeper implication that compels me to approach the matter from a different angle—one that better illuminates the significance of this episode for those of us in less developed democracies. My goal is to help readers, especially Africans, understand that the global system does not always treat us fairly, despite appearances.

    To illustrate this point, and drawing from my background in international public policy, I chose to analyze the Trump-Musk saga through an analogy—comparing it to a hypothetical but relatable scenario in Nigeria. After all, Nigeria’s political system borrows heavily from the U.S. model, and President Bola Tinubu’s current reform-driven leadership has begun reshaping the country’s economic landscape within just two years of his administration.

    With that backdrop, it’s worth examining how the situation unfolded.

    When sales of Musk’s Tesla electric vehicles began to decline both in the U.S. and globally—particularly across European markets—President Trump took on the role of an unofficial brand ambassador. In what appeared to be a quid pro quo gesture to repay Musk for his campaign support, Trump staged a symbolic event: turning the White House lawn into a Tesla showroom. On live television watched by billions worldwide, he personally bought a red Tesla and urged others to follow his example.

    This dramatic endorsement was part of Trump’s attempt to shield Musk from the backlash he faced after heading the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE)—an agency created to cut government costs. Musk’s involvement in laying off public sector workers had angered many Americans, some of whom responded by boycotting and even vandalizing Tesla cars. This public outrage contributed significantly to Tesla’s financial decline.

    On one particularly devastating day, Musk reportedly lost $34 billion in market value, and Tesla’s total losses since Musk became directly involved in politics are estimated at over $150 billion. His decision to blend business with politics—becoming an active player in public governance—appears to have backfired, both for his companies and his personal wealth.

    Despite his high-profile role and disruptive efforts, Musk’s agency, DOGE, was only able to reduce U.S. government spending by a mere 1%. Likewise, Trump’s relentless attempts to reverse Tesla and SpaceX’s downward trajectory yielded little success. The damage to Musk’s public image as the face of mass layoffs and agency closures proved too great to overcome.

    DOGE, as the name implies, was Trump’s initiative to curb federal spending as part of his broader goal to reduce America’s ballooning budget deficit and national debt—now estimated at over $36 trillion. However, this ambition is not new. Past presidents like Ronald Reagan (40th) and Bill Clinton (42nd) also established similar budget reform initiatives.

    In the end, the Trump-Musk clash offers far more than tabloid drama. It serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of blurring the lines between politics and business, and highlights the global double standards that often disadvantage less powerful nations. The same Western systems that lecture developing countries on austerity and public subsidies are themselves deeply intertwined with state-backed corporate interests.

    Notably, the efforts by past U.S. administrations to reduce the cost of governance mirror the current situation between Trump and Musk. Under President Ronald Reagan, a similar initiative was launched with the creation of the Grace Commission—officially called the President’s Private Sector Survey on Cost Control. It was led by J. Peter Grace, a prominent CEO of W.R. Grace and Company. The commission aimed to identify ways to make the federal government more efficient and claimed it could save over $424 billion within three years.

    Despite the high expectations, the commission’s recommendations were not fully implemented, and critics argue that the actual impact on government efficiency and cost savings was modest at best.

    Likewise, during President Bill Clinton’s tenure, his administration introduced a major reform program known as the National Performance Review (NPR), led by Vice President Al Gore. The NPR was a comprehensive effort to restructure the federal government with a focus on improving efficiency, cutting waste, and delivering better services to citizens. Its vision was to build a government that “works better and costs less.” The initiative resulted in 119 key recommendations, including downsizing agencies and eliminating redundant programs. The NPR ultimately claimed to have saved $108 billion and improved government operations while also reducing overhead staffing.

    Clearly, Trump and Musk are not the first high-profile figures—one from the political world and the other from business—to attempt reforming the American government’s spending habits. Yet, despite their intentions, their partnership has turned acrimonious. The tension between Trump, intent on “Making America Great Again,” and Musk, determined to inject private-sector efficiency into public service, has spiraled into a toxic feud.

    Both men should recognize that even past collaborations between top political and business minds—such as Reagan and Grace, or Clinton and Gore—fell short of achieving the kind of transformational government efficiency they envisioned. Their failure should offer some perspective and encourage both Trump and Musk to de-escalate their conflict and move beyond their mutual frustration over their unmet goals.

    Following their fallout, Tesla’s stock has taken a significant hit. As of last Thursday, it’s reported that Tesla has lost up to $150 billion in market value over the last six months. Meanwhile, Musk’s businesses have reportedly benefited from up to $34 billion in U.S. government contracts—support that could be jeopardized if the feud with Trump continues.

    This raises an important question now being asked by political observers in the U.S.: Can these two power players—once close allies just six months ago, and now adversaries—repair their relationship?

    On what was Musk’s last day in the White House as a government adviser, Trump symbolically handed him the “Keys to the White House.” But any illusion of a cordial parting quickly shattered when Musk publicly condemned Trump’s signature tax and spending plan—the so-called “Big Beautiful Bill”—as a “disgusting abomination.” Musk’s critique struck a nerve, especially since the bill contradicted the aims of the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), which Musk had headed in a failed attempt to streamline public spending. His aggressive role in implementing job cuts drew widespread criticism, particularly since Musk was unelected and seen as wielding unchecked influence over government workers’ livelihoods.

    This political-business breakdown in the U.S. brings to mind a similar episode in Nigeria, which illustrates why mixing business with politics is a risky endeavor. After former Vice President Atiku Abubakar left office (1999–2007), his business interests, particularly in Intels—an oil and gas logistics firm he co-founded—suffered a steep decline. Intels had thrived under favorable government patronage, operating a lucrative private port in Port Harcourt. But after Atiku’s party lost power to the opposition APC in 2015, government contracts dried up.

    As the firm’s financial standing deteriorated, Atiku was forced to sell his equity stake in a bid to keep it afloat. Following his divestment, his spokesman issued a statement to the press, confirming the exit

    “Yes, he has divested from Intels and redirected his investments into other sectors of the economy to generate returns and create jobs.”

    Reflecting on the ongoing fallout between Donald Trump and Elon Musk, one is reminded of the tragic political journey of Nigerian billionaire-turned-politician, Chief Moshood Kashimawo Abiola (MKO). Although the circumstances differ, there are thematic similarities. Abiola, who amassed his fortune primarily through government telecommunications contracts—much like Musk’s ties to U.S. government contracts in the tech sector—entered the political arena in 1993 by contesting the presidency. Sadly, his political aspirations ended in tragedy, resulting in the loss of both his wealth and ultimately his life.

    While Musk hasn’t directly pursued the presidency, his veiled threat to back the Democrats in the upcoming election as retaliation against Republicans for passing Trump’s “Big Beautiful Bill” has raised eyebrows. It suggests the possibility that Musk may be positioning himself to influence the outcome of the 2028 elections in favor of the Democrats—just as he was instrumental in helping Trump and the Republicans secure victory in 2024. If so, Musk could be transitioning from a politically interested entrepreneur into an active political player.

    In the present feud between two former allies—President Trump, who may have a fragile ego, and Musk, known for his confrontational approach—the stakes are high. Trump, a seasoned political fighter, is unlikely to back down easily, while Musk’s endurance in the face of sustained political and financial pressure remains to be seen. Whether he can absorb continuous blows to his businesses, including Tesla and SpaceX, could determine if the two men will reconcile or drift permanently apart.

    President Trump, now in his final term, arguably has less to lose. However, he still needs the Senate to pass his flagship legislation, the Big Beautiful Bill. Musk’s opposition to the bill is already casting doubt on its swift approval. Encouragingly, Musk seems to be stepping back from his confrontational stance, as evidenced by his decision to delete a provocative post in which he threatened to begin decommissioning SpaceX’s Dragon spacecraft in response to Trump’s comments about canceling government contracts.

    Though the U.S. is no Russia, the Trump–Musk standoff evokes parallels with the dramatic falling-out between Russian President Vladimir Putin and Yevgeny Prigozhin, the late mercenary leader of the Wagner Group. Once close allies, their power struggle escalated into an armed confrontation and ended with Prigozhin’s untimely death in a plane explosion.

    The conflict also mirrors Putin’s past clashes with influential Russian oligarchs, many of whom were jailed or had their assets seized after falling out with the Kremlin. One such example is Mikhail Khodorkovsky, the former owner of Yukos Oil, who was imprisoned on charges of tax evasion and other offenses. In response, several Russian oligarchs fled the country, investing their wealth in the West—particularly in the U.K., where Roman Abramovich famously bought Chelsea Football Club. He eventually lost the club following Western sanctions on Russia after its 2022 invasion of Ukraine.

    Despite these grim parallels, there is still hope for reconciliation between Trump and Musk. Their personal and political futures would both benefit from de-escalating tensions. Continued verbal and written hostilities—no matter how indirect—could prove damaging to both men, especially as mere words can spark consequences that are irreversible in both business and politics.

    Drawing from Nigeria’s own political-business landscape, we’ve seen high-profile feuds eventually resolved. A case in point is the past fallout between Africa’s richest man, Aliko Dangote, and Nigeria’s third-richest businessman, Femi Otedola. Though their dispute was acrimonious, the two have since rekindled their friendship and now enjoy a closer relationship than before. That precedent gives reason to believe Trump and Musk—two powerful figures who still need each other—might also find a path to reconciliation.

    This optimism is further supported by comments from Musk’s father, Errol Musk, who revealed that Elon suffers from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). If the fallout was, in part, driven by psychological distress and frustration over unmet expectations, healing could begin once emotions settle and rational interests take over.

    Yet a broader concern remains: If Musk is eventually barred—by legal, institutional, or moral constraints—from using his vast wealth to influence electoral outcomes in the U.S., what prevents him from trying the same approach in other countries, especially in Europe? If he refrains, will other billionaires emulate his strategy, leveraging wealth to influence political outcomes under the maxim that “what money cannot do, more money can”?

    Ultimately, the Trump–Musk saga offers a valuable lesson for democracies everywhere. It underscores the dangers of blurring the lines between business and politics and raises critical questions about the future of political financing, influence, and accountability in democratic systems.

     

    Magnus Onyibe, an entrepreneur, public policy analyst, author, democracy advocate, development strategist, an alumnus of the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University, Massachusetts, USA, a Commonwealth lnstitute scholar and a former commissioner in the Delta State government, sent this piece from Lagos Nigeria

  • Is an Atiku Abubakar/Peter Obi presidency not too late? – By Magnus Onyibe

    Is an Atiku Abubakar/Peter Obi presidency not too late? – By Magnus Onyibe

    The best moment for the combination of former Vice President Atiku Abubakar and former Governor Peter Obi to clinch the presidency of Nigeria—as President and Vice President respectively—could have been in 2023.

    But it is now like a pie dream, metaphorically.

    The duo, who had previously paired up in 2019 to contest against then-incumbent President Muhammadu Buhari, made a significant impact by scoring 11,262,978 votes against Buhari’s 15,191,847—a winning/lossing  margin of 3,928,869 votes. They came closer than many expected to dislodging Buhari from power.

    However, the momentum gained in 2019 fizzled out, lost to what some pundits have described as miscommunication or conflicting body language between the pair. Recently, the two have been seen traversing the country, culminating in meetings in Abuja over the past weekend, apparently seeking a way forward to reignite their old political alliance.

    In 2019, victory seemed within reach for the Atiku Abubakar–Peter Obi ticket. So much so that respected election experts, such as the late Prof. Humphrey Nwosu, former INEC chairman, believed that the opposition PDP may have actually won the election but was rigged out by the then-ruling APC.

    After coming so close, it was natural to expect that the duo would build on their 2019 momentum heading into the 2023 contest. But perhaps driven by desperation, and guided by ambitions that did not align with the prevailing political winds, both men, of their own volition, chose to face off against each other instead.

    As numerous pundits have noted, the combined total of over 13 million votes garnered by Atiku Abubakar (as PDP candidate) and Peter Obi (as Labour Party flag bearer) in 2023 far exceeded the little over 8.7 million votes earned by then-APC candidate Bola Tinubu, who ultimately won the presidential election.

    Yet, President Tinubu has not rested on his laurels. Since taking office, he has worked assiduously to turn Nigeria’s economy around—from the financially strained status he inherited to a more resilient and forward-facing economic posture. Although his economic reforms have brought hardships, they are generally seen as necessary for the country’s long-term benefit.

    Beyond economic policy, President Tinubu has launched a political charm offensive. He has been courting voters and political leaders across Nigeria’s 22 APC-controlled states—and beyond. This has led to an unprecedented wave of defections from opposition parties into the ruling APC, including governors, lawmakers, and party faithful.

    The success of this political maneuvering has alarmed opposition parties, who now allege that Nigeria is drifting towards a one-party state akin to China or Vietnam—both authoritarian yet economically successful nations. I have long advocated for Nigeria to evolve its own indigenous brand of democracy, potentially a hybrid of the parliamentary and presidential systems, tailored to our unique cultural and political context.

    Why should we shun the Chinese or Vietnamese models outright, especially when they demonstrate effective economic governance? Unlike some analyst who are worried about Nigeria becoming a one party, if such a political snowball manifests , there will be a Big Bang which is a theory supporting the claim that the universe began with an explosion of a single particle at a definite centre point.

    Based on the aforementioned theory , it is possible that before 2031 when the APC would have been in control of power in the centre consistently for sixteen (16) years, many more parties may spring out it.

    Recall that the PDP imploded after 16 years (1999-2015) of consistently being in control of power during which internal schisms caused then ruling party to disintergrate with the current key political actors being the agent provocateurs for the scattering of the party when it became a behemoth.

    Is it not such an irony that it is the same key players in the guillotining and burial of PDP that are currently jostling to form another Special Purpose Vehicle (SPV) to do to President Tinubu what they did to then President Goodluck

    Jonathan in 2015?

    But President Tinubu who appears to be ahead of the opposition in critical thinking has probably figured out their game plan and changed his strategy and  tactics by throwing carrots as baits to the opposition which as usual is dominated by discontents from the APC and originally from PDP who have lost out in the power sharing matrix of the current ruling party and therefore seeking relevance by leveraging another platform.

    The incumbent president who is currently the target of his former colleagues who want a piece of the pie has ecountered the opposition’s concerns by asserting that politicians are free to join the ruling party if they so choose, provided they are not coerced. He has even predicted more defections, confident in the old adage: nothing succeeds like success.

    In a twist of fate, the political rift between Atiku Abubakar and Peter Obi—leading to their separate bids for the presidency in 2023—became Bola Tinubu’s biggest gain. Their failure to pragmatically manage their alliance after 2019 ultimately cost them a real shot at power.

    Instead of regrouping to re-enact their 2019 partnership, suspicion and mistrust prevailed in 2023 and they are now licking their wound while trying to come up with a new strategy to challenge Tinubu one more time in 2027. But as they have  ended up splitting the votes—especially in the South-East and South-South, PDP strongholds since 1999, the goodwill that they could have banked from their earlier alliance was squandered in 2023 and l believe nothing has changed as OBldients are to the left while PDP devotes are centrists.

    Now, they appear to be trying to regroup in preparation for 2027 applying the tactic of coalition of opposition parties introduced by Tinubu in 2013. But the questions remain:

    • Do they still command the same goodwill they enjoyed in 2019 and 2023?

    • Are voters in the South-East and South-South still motivated to rally behind Peter Obi and the Labour Party?

    • Do those who backed Atiku Abubakar still believe in his presidential project?

    The political division between the two may have polarized their supporters beyond reconciliation. While many argue that Nigerian politicians are not ideologically driven, it’s clear that the PDP and Labour Party represent different ideological orientations. Consequently, some Obi supporters may never back Atiku, just as some Atiku loyalists may never support Obi.

    It may also be true that voters who supported Tinubu in 2023 might reconsider in 2027. However, unlike Abubakar and Obi, Tinubu has not hopped from one party to another. He has remained ideologically consistent—from AD which later became ACN to APC, the latter being a merger of opposition parties that unseated the PDP in 2015.

    In contrast, both Atiku Abubakar and Peter Obi have changed parties multiple times. Atiku has swung between the PDP and APC, while Obi moved from APGA to PDP, and then to the Labour Party. This inconsistency may haunt them in the minds of voters in 2027.

    Given all this, the age-old adage “a house divided against itself cannot stand” comes to mind. And in Christian parlance: “May God cause my enemies to make mistakes that will promote me.”also rings true in this instance.

    Both of these dictums seem to define the political fate of both Abubakar and Obi.

    Have the PDP and Labour Party’s 2023 flag bearers made too many political mistakes to remain credible contenders in 2027? Have they exhausted their political goodwill?

    In my 2019 book “Becoming President of Nigeria: A Citizen’s Guide”, I proposed that Atiku should enter into a one-term agreement with the South-East and South-South voters, making Obi his Vice President and future successor. That proposal, which they ignored, is now ironically being considered for the 2027 elections.

    But as the old nursery rhyme says: It’s too late to cry when the head is off.

    Simply put, Nigeria’s political tide has shifted. Old solutions no longer suffice. The coalition formula (Special Purpose Vehicle, or SPV) that succeeded in ousting the PDP in 2015 is now antiquated, especially as the ruling APC under Tinubu grows stronger.

    Unlike Abubakar and Obi—who seem to have been doing the right things at the wrong time—President Tinubu appears to have been reading the political tea leaves correctly. His now-famous “Emi Lo Kan” (It’s My Turn) battle cry during the APC primaries reflected a prescient and confident approach to his presidential ambition, despite the obstacles placed in his path.

    All said and done, with the opposition still in disarray and a crowd of presidential hopefuls angling to unseat President Tinubu, it’s hard to see how they can mount a unified challenge. Unless a political miracle occurs—where all opposition candidates agree to back a single contender—2027 increasingly looks like a done deal for Tinubu and the APC.

    Magnus Onyibe, an entrepreneur, public policy analyst, author, democracy advocate, development strategist, an alumnus of the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University, Massachusetts, USA, a Commonwealth institute scholar and a former commissioner in the Delta State government, sent this piece from Benin-city, Edo state.