Opinion
2022: A Red-Letter Year
The year 2022 was like no other year for the average Nigerian, particularly for fixed-salary earners like civil and public servants. It was a year when the combination of inflation, insecurity, volatile foreign exchange, and a spiralling energy cost created a hellish cocktail that unleashed a cost of living crisis, comparable only to the austerity measure Nigerians saw during Buhari’s first advent. Painfully for most families, the traditional 3-square meal was a major casualty.
As I reflect on the travails of the average Nigerian in the outgone year, I shuddered at the thought that, while I might complain of my inability to meet some of the basic needs of my family, 133 million Nigerians are multi-dimensionally poor (a whopping 66.5 percent of the population) – grappling with the lack of access to food, health care, shelter, education, and other necessities of life. By contrast, President Buhari is healthier today than ever, and Bishop Kuka brought the stark difference home during a homily late last year when he said: “We know that you are healthier now than you were before. We can see it in the spring in your steps, the thousands of miles you have continued to cover as you travel abroad. However, I also wish that millions of our citizens had a chance to enjoy just a fraction of their own health by a measurable improvement in the quality of health care in our country.” To add salt to injury, available data from almost every respectable source show that the health sector is on the brink of collapse due to the Japa syndrome.
Unfortunately, it is not yet over, because in the UK alone there is currently a gap of about 46000 health workers according to the NHS; and going by data from previous years Nigeria might end up contributing a third of that number. According to a UK immigration report released in 2022, more than 13000 Nigerian medical professionals were recruited by various health Institutions in the UK between 2021 and 2022. In October 2022, the Nigeria Medical Association (NMA) National President, Dr. Rowland Ojinmah, reported that 50 medical doctors leave Nigeria weekly, creating a shortage of doctors in most hospitals across the country. The impact of this labour migration has started to hit home, as major hospitals in big cities, like Port Harcourt are now finding it difficult to hire doctors. In fact, a doctor told me that most private hospitals in Port Harcourt stop seeing our patients after 5:00 pm due to a lack of manpower; but a consultant radiologist at Yenagoa, Bayelsa State, painted a grim picture of the current state of healthcare delivery in the country by explaining that soon, the only option for the sick in Nigeria might be the ‘Babalawo’.
On the economy, energy costs did huge damage to the economy in 2022 second only to the impact of high forex. There was a continual marginal increase of electricity tariff, but no regular supply in most parts of the country. And as a result, the cost of diesel was particularly responsible for the very low-profit margins among most manufacturing firms in the country. It was also the reason why most banks in Port Harcourt and other major cities reduced their operating hours. On a personal level, skyrocketing energy costs ensured my diesel generator remained under lock and key since March 2022. Painfully, the price of the alternative source of fuel, petrol, is now almost at par with the price of diesel. My major regret is not riding the solar train when the dollar was reasonable.
2022, was also a year when ASUU stood its ground in what morphed into the mother of all industrial strikes in our recent memory. The strike action which started on a warning note on February 14, 2022, ended on October 14, 2022, without a clear-cut resolution, or a winner; but the students and their parents are clearly the losers. The long industrial action gave the private universities an undue advantage against public universities, and their students, in the sense that the eight-month-long strike upended the 2021/2022 academic session. But our loss as a nation was a gain in terms of foreign direct investment to countries such as the UK, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and Ghana. As of June 2022, Nigeria spent as much as $882 million on education-related expenditures, showing a 34 percent increase when compared to the $667 million spent in the same period in 2021. Notably, there was no foreign direct investment in the opposite direction for the same purpose.
On security, 2022 was really a long night for the devil. Only a few states including Lagos and Rivers had a breather. It was so bad that even the seat of power was threatened. Kuje Prisons was attacked, while the Abuja – Kaduna Road was a killing field, and the rail was not spared. In fact, the Abuja – Kaduna Train attack will forever remain a scar on our national consciousness. But that is not all, because Kaduna was actually Nigeria’s security waterloo in 2022; and for the most fortified state in the country, Nigeria was shamed without measure when the Nigerian Defence Academy in Zaria and the Kaduna Airport were attacked. Sadly, every other attack in Kaduna pales in comparison to the ongoing slaughter of the Indigenous People of Southern Kaduna. Also, the South-East witnessed unprecedented security challenges caused by unknown gunmen, kidnappers, Fulani herdsmen, and the militant wing of the Indigenous People of Biafra.
Lastly, the flood returned in 2022 to a nation as unprepared as it was in 2012. In some areas in Benue and Anambra States especially, new developments have blocked natural waterways; while towns and villages along flood planes in nearly 30 states were submerged under water. Most families would never recover because they lost everything, but the politicians who managed the procurement and distribution of relief are set for life. The East-West Road along the Bayelsa axis was submerged for nearly three weeks, displacing millions of people at the peak; but as usual, the issue of the flood has receded to the back burner until the next flood. This is Nigeria, where lessons learned are never applied.
Sadly, any search for a single indicator trending in the green immediately becomes a fruitless endeavour. With a budget deficit of 5 percent of GDP as against the threshold of 3 percent recommended by the Fiscal Responsibility Act of 2007. Headline Inflation is hovering around 21 percent, while food inflation stood at 22 percent; and due to multi-sectoral dislocations in the economy, the unemployment rate is currently at 33 percent, essentially increasing the number of the Nigerian poor by 35 million. Tellingly, youth unemployment stood at 43 percent at the end of 2022.
Many pundits have attributed the state of the economy in 2022 to the aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic and other global headwinds, especially the war in Ukraine. However, in truth, we witnessed in 2022 a full-blown case of what happens when unpatriotic, corrupt, and incompetent people wield power. For instance, what effect do the Covid-19 Pandemic and the war in Ukraine have on our daily crude production or the security architecture of the country? Also, is there any correlation between the aforementioned factors and the ASUU strike that destroyed a whole school year? The answer is clearly no.
Interestingly, just before the end of the year, Nigerians were surprised to hear that the Federal Government was working on a review that would be announced most likely in the first quarter of 2023. According to the Minister for Labour and Productivity, Dr. Chris Ngige, the review is intended to ameliorate the impact of inflation on the cost of living. Ordinarily, it sounds like a kind gesture, however, would it not have been better, fixing the economy in the first place? Because, if the economy continues on the current trajectory no amount of salary adjustment would make any meaning. On the flip side, it has the visage of vote buying. It is certain, that the APC cannot campaign with a Buhari Scorecard, therefore they have to come up with a mega vote-buying scheme.
In all, the supposedly incompetence of Buharai, his soft-glove handling of non-state actors, and the general corrupt disposition of his government culminated in setting 2022 apart as a red-letter year; and I join millions of Nigerians to pray that our children may never see another year like the year “2022”.
By: Raphael Pepple
The events that unfolded in Abuja on Tuesday November 11, 2025 between the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Chief Nyesom Wike and a detachment of soldiers guarding a disputed property, led by Adams Yerima, a commissioned Naval Officer, may go down as one of the defining images of Nigeria’s democratic contradictions. It was not merely a quarrel over land. It was a confrontation between civil authority and the military legacy that still hovers over our national life.
Nyesom Wike, fiery and fearless as always, was seen on video exchanging words with a uniformed officer who refused to grant him passage to inspect a parcel of land alleged to have been illegally acquired. The minister’s voice rose, his temper flared, and the soldier, too, stood his ground, insisting on his own authority. Around them, aides, security men, and bystanders watched, stunned, as two embodiments of the Nigerian state clashed in the open.
The images spread fast, igniting debates across drawing rooms, beer parlours, and social media platforms. Some hailed Wike for standing up to military arrogance; others scolded him for perceived disrespect to the armed forces. Yet beneath the noise lies a deeper question about what sort of society we are building and whether power in Nigeria truly understands the limits of its own reach.
It is tragic that, more than two decades into civil rule, the relationship between the civilian arm of government and the military remains fragile and poorly understood. The presence of soldiers in a land dispute between private individuals and the city administration is, by all civic standards, an aberration. It recalls a dark era when might was right, and uniforms conferred immunity against accountability.
Wike’s anger, even if fiery, was rooted in a legitimate concern: that no individual, however connected or retired, should deploy the military to protect personal interests. That sentiment echoes the fundamental democratic creed that the law is supreme, not personalities. If his passion overshot decorum, it was perhaps a reflection of a nation weary of impunity.
On the other hand, the soldier in question is a symbol of another truth: that discipline, respect for order, and duty to hierarchy are ingrained in our armed forces. He may have been caught between conflicting instructions one from his superiors, another from a civilian minister exercising his lawful authority. The confusion points not to personal failure but to institutional dysfunction.
It is, therefore, simplistic to turn the incident into a morality play of good versus evil.
*********”**** What happened was an institutional embarrassment. Both men represented facets of the same failing system a polity still learning how to reconcile authority with civility, law with loyalty, and service with restraint.
In fairness, Wike has shown himself as a man of uncommon courage. Whether in Rivers State or at the FCTA, he does not shy away from confrontation. Yet courage without composure often feeds misunderstanding. A public officer must always be the cooler head, even when provoked, because the power of example outweighs the satisfaction of winning an argument.
Conversely, soldiers, too, must be reminded that their uniforms do not place them above civilian oversight. The military exists to defend the nation, not to enforce property claims or intimidate lawful authorities. Their participation in purely civil matters corrodes the image of the institution and erodes public trust.
One cannot overlook the irony: in a country where kidnappers roam highways and bandits sack villages, armed men are posted to guard contested land in the capital. It reflects misplaced priorities and distorted values. The Nigerian soldier, trained to defend sovereignty, should not be drawn into private or bureaucratic tussles.
Sycophancy remains the greatest ailment of our political culture. Many of those who now cheer one side or the other do so not out of conviction but out of convenience. Tomorrow they will switch allegiance. True patriotism lies not in defending personalities but in defending principles. A people enslaved by flattery cannot nurture a culture of justice.
The Nigerian elite must learn to submit to the same laws that govern the poor. When big men fence off public land and use connections to shield their interests, they mock the very constitution they swore to uphold. The FCT, as the mirror of national order, must not become a jungle where only the powerful can build.
The lesson for Wike himself is also clear: power is best exercised with calmness. The weight of his office demands more than bravery; it demands statesmanship. To lead is not merely to command, but to persuade — even those who resist your authority.
Equally, the lesson for the armed forces is that professionalism shines brightest in restraint. Obedience to illegal orders is not loyalty; it is complicity. The soldier who stands on the side of justice protects both his honour and the dignity of his uniform.
The Presidency, too, must see this episode as a wake-up call to clarify institutional boundaries. If soldiers can be drawn into civil enforcement without authorization, then our democracy remains at risk of subtle militarization. The constitution must speak louder than confusion.
The Nigerian public deserves better than spectacles of ego. We crave leaders who rise above emotion and officers who respect civilian supremacy. Our children must not inherit a nation where authority means shouting matches and intimidation in public glare.
Every democracy matures through such tests. What matters is whether we learn the right lessons. The British once had generals who defied parliament; the Americans once fought over states’ rights; Nigeria, too, must pass through her own growing pains but with humility, not hubris.
If the confrontation has stirred discomfort, then perhaps it has done the nation some good. It forces a conversation long overdue: Who truly owns the state — the citizen or the powerful? Can we build a Nigeria where institutions, not individuals, define our destiny?
As the dust settles, both the FCTA and the military hierarchy must conduct impartial investigations. The truth must be established — not to shame anyone, but to restore order. Where laws were broken, consequences must follow. Where misunderstandings occurred, apologies must be offered.
Let the rule of law triumph over the rule of impulse. Let civility triumph over confrontation. Let governance return to the path of dialogue and procedure.
Nigeria cannot continue to oscillate between civilian bravado and military arrogance. Both impulses spring from the same insecurity — the fear of losing control. True leadership lies in the ability to trust institutions to do their work without coercion.
Those who witnessed the clash saw a drama of two gladiators. One in starched khaki, one in well-cut suit. Both proud, both unyielding. But a nation cannot be built on stubbornness; it must be built on understanding. Power, when it meets power, should produce order, not chaos.
We must resist the temptation to glorify temper. Governance is not warfare; it is stewardship. The citizen watches, the world observes, and history records. How we handle moments like this will define our collective maturity.
The confrontation may have ended without violence, but it left deep questions in the national conscience. When men of authority quarrel in the open, institutions tremble. The people, once again, become spectators in a theatre of misplaced pride.
It is time for all who hold office — civilian or military — to remember that they serve under the same flag. That flag is neither khaki nor political colour; it is green-white-green, and it demands humility.
No victor, no vanquish only a lesson for a nation still learning to govern itself with dignity.
By; King Onunwor
