Opinion

Cautious Optimism As Naira Rebounds

Published

2 years ago

April 22, 2024

It has been good news since the past three weeks as our national currency, the Naira, continues to regain its lost value. The recovery follows frantic efforts by a government whose ill-advised, inaugural policies had set the legal tender, and the whole economy, tumbling.
The naira took an unprecedented plunge from last June and hit bottoms by the middle of March, 2024, following a hasty decision by President Ahmed Tinubu’s administration, to let it float freely on the market forces of demand and supply, in addition to removing petroleum subsidy, in disregard of the handicap of Nigeria’s import-dependence.
Without provisions to boost productions that satisfy domestic demands, or prime export capacities to balance import pressures on the local currency, a floating naira depreciated by 25 per cent in a single day in June, 2023, dropping to N1,950 per dollar in March, 2024, from about N750 per dollar earlier in May, 2023, while the price of petrol jumped overnight to 295 per cent, from N189 to N557. By December, 2023 overall inflation, according to official estimates, reached 28.92 per cent and food inflation shot beyond 33.33 per cent.
According to a World Bank report, whereas about 24 million Nigerians crossed the poverty line during the first half of 2023, in the twilight of the Buhari administration, situations got worse by the end of 2023, when accelerating inflations ushered-in by Tinubu’s hasty policies, pushed 63 per cent of Nigerians (about 133 million) into multi-dimensional poverty.
By the first quarter of 2024 hardships drove restive youths to near-uprising, which forced government into another haste – a concoction of palliatives – ironically, a form of subsidy, which it had earlier denounced as government wastefulness.
With the naira regaining its losses, it appears a panicky government has finally groped unto a solution. But if Mr President’s men are remorseful for the havoc done to Nigerians, they should be more sober this time in their computations to avoid distressing the country further.
The Federal Government has resorted to offloading dollar raised from sovereign bonds (in essence, loans), petroleum export proceeds and drawdowns from the external reserves, into the economy to reduce Foreign Exchange (FX) supply pressures, and to help it buy time in the hope of finding solutions to the wider unfavourable economic fundamentals bedevilling the economy.
On the dollar demand side, government has freed-up official restrictions that it believes created artificial scarcities that favour the black market. The Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) has also cleared-off a backlog of FX obligations to assure investors, lifted the ban on sale of dollar to Bureau De Change Operators (BDCs), clamped down on currency speculators, closed down Binance, a crypto platform government accused of opaque dealings with money launderers, and borrowed dollar through short-term, sovereign bonds to ‘defend’ the naira.
Ever since, the CBN has offloaded dollar to BDCs at progressively reduced rates in the hope of prompting currency hoarders to cut losses and release supposed stockpiles. But in a clime where looted funds are desperately exchanged and exported, not much may be squeezed from hoarders, if surveillance is not stepped up. However, as at April 8, 2024, the CBN has offloaded a second tranche of $10,000 per BDC operator at N1,101 per dollar with a charge not to sell above 1.5 per cent margin. Many predict the CBN would offer the dollar below N1,000 in the coming weeks.
But for how long can the CBN go on with its bonanza to ‘defend the Naira’? And what has been the cost of that defence? While the impact of strengthening naira is yet to reflect on commodity prices in Nigeria, the nation’s foreign reserve has dropped within 18 days by $0.95billion, down from $34.45billion on March 18, 2024, to N33.50billion on April 3, which represents a daily average depletion rate of $52.78 million. This is despite the $3billion loan from the AFREXIMBANK and petro-dollar revenues also thrown into the fray. To sustain its strengths, reports say the federal government plans to take stabilisation loans by June, 2024, speculated at a tune of $15billion, through the issuance of domestic bonds denominated in foreign currency. FG seeks the loans within the window of short-term, volatile Foreign Portfolio Investment (FPI) bonds which may disappoint the country in times of crises, as against Foreign Direct Investments which are more reliable. According to Bloomberg reports, FG has contacted investment banks, JPMorgan Chase & Co, Goldman Sachs and Citibank NA, for advice on Eurobonds, but Nigeria’s Debt Management Office denies Federal Executive Council’s approvals for such.
Certainly, a stronger currency is beneficial to an import-dependent nation like Nigeria, but without strengthening national productivity to generate surpluses for trade-balancing exports, the pursuit of merely high currency valuation becomes a vain strategy. While the naira strengthens, the reality of the adverse economic fundamentals that erode its worth remain unchanged, implying that its buoyancy rides merely on costly FX floods being pumped by the CBN. It is easy to guess the result, should the CBN halt supply.
For years Nigeria relied on its petroleum sector which at present provides about 78 per cent of FX earnings, but constitutes far less than 10 per cent of its real Gross Domestic Product (GDP), implying that to stabilise, Nigeria needs to grow its non-oil sector of over 90 per cent of GDP. Even the petroleum revenue is endangered by sabotage, illegal bunkering, dwindling investments and insecurity.
The FG may have taken the bet that sustaining the naira could buy it time from hard-pressed Nigerians, in the hope that a number of tangible local productions might kick-off. Notable among the expectations is the Dangote Refinery which, with its 650,000 barrels per day refining capacity, is expected to satisfy local demands of petroleum products to ease the huge FX demand in that front, and may hopefully earn FX through exports. Already, Dangote’s recent release of 100 million litres of diesel crashed the price of the product from N1,700 to N1,350, with another batch of 100 million litres expected to crash prices further, while the company plans to supply petrol by next month, but government-owned refineries which have drained so much resources remain dysfunctional. Again, the recent break through against reprocity flight barriers between the UK and Nigeria by Airpeace, reportedly crashed ticket prices to UK by 60 per cent.
FG may also see reliefs in the successful take-off in Aba, of 24-hour power supply by the Geometric Group and the recent commissioning of 700 Megawatt Zungeru hydro-electricity station, a tomatoe processing plant in Nassarawa, and a steel mill in Kaduna. However, agricultural, petroleum and manufacturing sectors remain at their lowest and beseiged by insecurity, while the financial services sector appears to be strong but has incommensurate impact on industrialisation. If government does not encourage productivity in the real economy, its efforts in buoying the naira would be hopeless, while Nigeria falls deeper in debts. Already, as at December 31, 2023, Nigeria’s total debt stood at $106billion, while the 2024 budget of N28.7 trillion projects a deficit of N9.8 trillion to be debt-financed.
When public debt grows fast ahead of GDP growth rate, mounting debt service costs under-cut funds required for investment. That became the plight of Nigeria from Buhari’s era, when from 2016 to 2022 public debt grew by yearly average of 52.4 per cent, and GDP below 2 per cent. In that fateful 2022, debt service cost exceeded government revenue, which is why we are where we are.
The International Monetary Fund projects that Nigeria’s reserve would plummet to $24billion by end of 2024. Meanwhile, a nation’s FX reserve reflects the country’s balance of payments and its ability to settle international obligations. Severe declines in reserve may erode investor confidence and lead to downgrading of its credit ratings, which further worsens the nation’s borrowing costs.
Therefore the current approach towards buoying the Naira through loans can not be any other thing, but a gamble.

By: Joseph Nwankwo

Opinion

Wike VS Soldier’s Altercation: Matters Arising

Published

7 days ago

December 8, 2025

The Tide

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

Opinion

Ndifon’s Verdict and University Power Reform

Published

3 weeks ago

November 24, 2025

The Tide

Quote:”But beyond the courtroom victory lies a pressing question: What next? How do we ensure that Nigerian universities no longer serve as hunting grounds for predatory academics? How do we guarantee that students—especially young women—can pursue education without fear of victimization?”

The conviction of Professor Cyril Ndifon, suspended Dean of Law at the University of Calabar, to five years in prison by the Federal High Court Abuja, provided a rare moment of relief amid the week’s troubling national events. Beyond punishing one individual, the judgment signaled that accountability—especially regarding sexual harassment and abuse of power in Nigerian higher institutions—may finally be gaining traction. For years, many students, especially young women, have quietly endured intimidation, coercion, and the misuse of academic privilege. Reports and surveys have consistently shown the depth of this problem. A 2018 World Bank survey estimated that 70% of female graduates had faced some form of sexual harassment in school, while a Nigerian study recorded sexual violence as the most common form of gender-based violence on campuses.

Ndifon’s case has therefore become symbolic—challenging the belief that powerful academics can act with impunity. Justice James Omotosho’s ruling went beyond the conviction; it exposed the systemic rot that enables abuse. His description of Ndifon as a predator highlighted how institutions fail when they lack strong, independent structures for accountability. Although the Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC) proved its case beyond reasonable doubt, many similar cases never reach court because victims remain afraid, discouraged, or convinced that the system will not protect them. A major difference in this case was that a government agency fulfilled its responsibility rather than letting the matter fade, as often happens with campus scandals. Too often, allegations arise but internal committees stall, victims lose hope, and the accused quietly escape consequences.

This time, however, the judiciary refused to allow such evasion. The court’s decision to center the victims and dismiss attempts to discredit them set an important precedent at a time when survivors are often blamed or pressured into silence. Yet the bigger question remains: What next? How can Nigerian universities become safe spaces where students, particularly young women, can pursue education without fear? First, reporting systems must be overhauled. Traditional structures—where complaints pass through heads of departments or deans—are inadequate, especially when senior officers are the accused. Independent, gender-sensitive complaint bodies are essential. Some institutions, such as the University of Ibadan and Godfrey Okoye University, have already taken steps by establishing gender-mainstreaming units. Other universities must follow suit, ensuring confidentiality, protection from backlash, and transparent investigations.

Second, proven cases of harassment must attract real consequences—not quiet transfers or administrative warnings. Sexual exploitation is not a mere disciplinary issue; it is a crime and should be promptly escalated to law-enforcement agencies. Treating criminal behaviour as an internal matter only emboldens perpetrators. Third, students must feel safe to speak up. As a senior lecturer at the University of Abuja advised, silence fuels impunity. Students need to believe that justice is attainable and that they will be supported. This requires consistent sensitization efforts by student unions, civil society groups, gender advocacy organizations, and ministries of women affairs. New students, in particular, need early guidance to understand their rights and available support systems. The recent approval of the Sexual Harassment of Students (Prevention and Prohibition) Bill, 2025, prescribing up to 14 years imprisonment for educators convicted of harassment, is a step in the right direction.

Quick presidential assent and domestication by states will strengthen legal protection. As Nelson Mandela said, “A society that fails to protect its women cannot claim to be civilized.” This principle must guide Nigeria’s legislative and institutional reforms. The legal profession has its own soul-searching to do. Law faculties are expected to model ethics and justice. When a senior law academic betrays these values, the damage extends beyond the victims—it undermines confidence in both higher education and the justice system. The judiciary’s firm stance in this case therefore reinforces the idea that the law exists to protect the vulnerable, not shield the powerful. Yet, this moment should not end with celebration alone; it must ignite a broader institutional awakening. Universities must begin to review their staff appraisal systems to include behavioural ethics, not just academic output.

Governing councils should strengthen oversight mechanisms and ensure that disciplinary processes are free from internal politics. Alumni associations and parents’ forums can also play a monitoring role, demanding higher standards of conduct from staff and administrators. Importantly, the government must provide universities with the financial and technical support needed to establish functional gender desks, counselling units, and digital reporting platforms. Only when all stakeholders take ownership of the problem can lasting reform be achieved. Professor Ndifon’s sentencing represents justice for one victim, but it must inspire justice for many more. It should mark the beginning of a nationwide resolve to reclaim Nigerian universities from those who misuse authority. The future of education in this country must be shaped by knowledge, dignity, and integrity—not fear or manipulation. The judgment is a call to action: to build campuses where students are safe, where lecturers are held accountable, and where power is exercised with responsibility. Only then can Nigeria truly claim to be nurturing the leaders of tomorrow.

By: Calista Ezeaku

Opinion

As Nigeria’s Insecurity Rings Alarm

Published

3 weeks ago

November 24, 2025

The Tide

Quote:”President Donald Trump’s designation of Nigeria a Country of Special Concern and further threats to intervene in countries experiencing religious persecution reflect a growing international concern regarding Nigeria’s deteriorating security situation.”

In recent years, Nigeria has witnessed an alarming evolution of insecurity that threatens not only the stability of the nation but also the broader West African region. Bandit attacks on schools, farms, mosques, and Christian worship centers have become distressingly commonplace, painting a grim picture of a country under siege from multiple fronts. The rise of kidnappings for ransom, coupled with the persistent threat of terrorism from groups like Boko Haram and ISWAP, has ignited fears among communities and hampered economic activities. As neighboring Sahel countries grapple with coups and the spread of extremist ideologies, Nigeria finds itself at a precarious crossroads that demands urgent attention and action.

According to media tally, about 2,496 students have been abducted in 92 school attacks since the Chibok saga of 2014. And prompted by recent incidents in Kwara, Kebbi and Niger states, where hundreds of pupils were abducted, state governments across northern Nigeria are shutting down, or relocating schools. Even the federal government last week, via the Federal Ministry of Education hastily ordered principals of 41 unity schools across northern Nigeria, to shut-down.The increasing frequency and audacity of bandit attacks highlight a troubling trend in Nigeria’s security landscape. Schools, once seen as sanctuaries for learning, have become targets for kidnappers seeking to exploit vulnerable students. These attacks not only disrupt education but also instill fear in families, leading to mass withdrawals from schools. Should we raise a generation of children deprived of their right to education?

Similarly, farms and places of worship have not been spared. Communities that once thrived on agriculture and faith, now live in constant dread of violent incursions. The targeted killings of Christians and attacks on mosques further exacerbate religious tensions, threatening to disrupt the social fabric that holds Nigeria together.The situation is compounded by the unsettling developments in the Sahel region, where coups and the rise of jihadist groups have created a volatile environment. The spillover effects of this instability are palpable in Nigeria, as extremist ideologies proliferate and armed groups gain confidence. The porous borders of the region facilitate the movement of militants and weapons, making it increasingly difficult for Nigerian authorities to contain the threats. As Nigeria struggles to secure its territory, the consequences of failure become more pronounced, with the potential for a broader regional crisis looming on the horizon.

President Donald Trump’s designation of Nigeria a Country of Special Concern and further threats to intervene in countries experiencing religious persecution reflect a growing international concern regarding Nigeria’s deteriorating security situation.

While such attention can bring much-needed awareness to the plight of affected communities, it also underscores a significant truth: the responsibility for addressing these challenges ultimately lies with the Nigerian government. The inaction and apparent inability to protect citizens from violence and ensure justice for victims send a troubling message about the state’s commitment to safeguarding its populace. The economic ramifications of this evolving insecurity are dire. Foreign investment, a critical driver of economic growth, is deterred by the pervasive violence and instability.

Investors are wary of committing resources to a country where the risk of loss is heightened by kidnappings and attacks on businesses.Additionally, agricultural production suffers as farmers abandon their lands, fearing for their safety. The recent upsurge in insecurity coincides with a crucial harvest season, when farmers need to recoup investment to finance the next round. A decline in harvests this year would reverse recent gains of recovery in food production and exacerbate poverty, further straining the nation’s resources. Socially, the implications of failing to tackle insecurity are profound. Mistrust in government institutions grows as citizens witness a lack of effective response to violence and crime. This erosion of faith can lead to civil unrests, as frustrated populations demand accountability and action.

Moreover, the vulnerability of young people in conflict-affected areas increases the risk of radicalization, as they seek identity and purpose in extremist movements that exploit their disillusionment. The South-East crisis is peculiar in this regard. The evolving insecurity in Nigeria is not merely a national crisis; it poses a significant threat to regional stability and international interests. The convergence of banditry, terrorism, and political instability in the Sahel creates a complex security environment that requires a coordinated response. The Nigerian government, in partnership with regional allies and international partners, must adopt a comprehensive strategy that addresses the root causes of insecurity, strengthens law enforcement, and fosters community resilience.

It’s time Nigerians address all regional grievances with reconciliation and empathy, rather than with coercion. As citizens, civil society, and international stakeholders, it is crucial to advocate for effective policies that prioritize security, justice, development and inclusiveness. A collective effort is needed to ensure a safer, more stable future for Nigeria and the West African region. Ultimately, Nigeria stands at a critical juncture. The path forward demands decisive action to restore security, rebuild trust, and ensure that all citizens can live without fear. The time for complacency has passed; the stakes are too high, and the consequences of inaction are too grave. A collective effort is essential to navigate this challenging landscape and forge a safer, more stable future for Nigeria and the West African region.

By: Joseph Nwankwor