Nigeria stands as Africa’s largest economy and most populous nation — yet it is also home to some of the world’s worst poverty, insecurity, and inequality. This is not by accident. It is the direct result of decades of failed leadership, weak institutions, and systemic corruption that have robbed Nigerians of their dignity and future.
From independence in 1960, Nigerians were promised a nation of progress and shared prosperity. Instead, what we got were military juntas that plundered our resources — from General Yakubu Gowon’s oil boom years wasted without tangible infrastructure, to General Sani Abacha’s dictatorship, during which over $5 billion was looted and is still being repatriated decades later.
When democracy returned in 1999, Nigerians dared to hope. President Olusegun Obasanjo’s administration (1999–2007) cleared billions in foreign debt, yet corruption scandals — from the Halliburton bribery case to the missing $16 billion reportedly spent on power sector reforms — showed that accountability was selective.
The late President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua (2007–2010) spoke of a “rule of law” agenda, but his short tenure left few lasting reforms. Dr. Goodluck Jonathan (2010–2015) presided over Nigeria’s highest oil earnings in history, yet fuel subsidies became a bottomless pit of fraud. Billions vanished from NNPC accounts, as highlighted by then-CBN governor Sanusi Lamido Sanusi, but instead of reform, whistleblowers were punished.
Then came President Muhammadu Buhari (2015–2023), who rode to power on the promise of anti-corruption and security. Under his watch, Boko Haram remained deadly, banditry exploded, kidnappings became a national industry, and the economy slid into two recessions. Inflation hit record highs, unemployment reached over 33%, and the naira went into free fall. Even Buhari himself admitted Nigerians were “suffering,” but offered no clear path out.
Today, under President Bola Tinubu (2023–), Nigerians are paying the price of years of mismanagement. The abrupt removal of fuel subsidy in May 2023 — without a clear safety net — sent the cost of living skyrocketing. Food inflation now hovers above 30%, transport costs have doubled or tripled, and over 133 million Nigerians are officially classified as “multidimensionally poor.”
Education remains broken. ASUU strikes under multiple administrations have kept students at home for months on end. Public schools are overcrowded, teachers underpaid, and libraries empty. Meanwhile, politicians’ children graduate from Harvard and Oxford, preparing to inherit power.
Healthcare is comatose. Nigeria accounts for one of the world’s highest maternal mortality rates — over 800 deaths per 100,000 live births. Political elites still budget billions for medical tourism annually, flying abroad for even the simplest check-ups while Nigerians die in dilapidated hospitals.
Security has collapsed. Between 2011 and 2023, more than 60,000 Nigerians were killed in insurgency, banditry, and communal violence. Entire villages have been sacked, and highways turned into kidnap zones. Billions budgeted for defense and security mysteriously disappear with little to show for it.
What is worse, Nigerians have been forced to normalize dysfunction. We provide our own power through generators because the national grid has collapsed more than 200 times in a decade. We drill boreholes because water boards are dead. We pay bribes at every turn — police checkpoints, government offices, even hospitals — just to get basic services.
This system works for the few, not the many. It works for the politicians who collect constituency allowances without building anything. It works for judges who delay cases until they can be “settled.” It works for oil barons who profit from opaque subsidies and forex deals. But it has failed the market woman, the okada rider, the student, the nurse, the teacher, the unemployed graduate, and the pensioner waiting months for his meager pay.
Nigeria is bleeding — but Nigerians are not powerless. History shows that change comes when citizens demand it, not when leaders offer it. The #EndSARS protests of 2020, despite state repression, reminded the country that young Nigerians are awake. The 2023 elections, with their unprecedented youth participation, showed that a new generation is ready to challenge the status quo.
If Nigeria is to be saved, we must stop treating bad governance as a permanent reality. Citizens must hold councillors, governors, lawmakers, and presidents accountable every single day. Civil society must refuse to be silenced. The media must remain fearless. And the judiciary must choose justice over compromise.
The system has failed — but it is not beyond repair. The question is whether Nigerians will continue to adapt to failure or rise to rebuild a nation that works for everyone, not just for the powerful.
