Tinubu And 200 Million Nigerians

By Igbotako Nowinta

President Tinubu inherited a battered economy. That is true. He inherited an economy burdened by fuel subsidies, exchange-rate distortions, weak public finances, insecurity and years of structural mismanagement. That is also true. But governments are elected precisely to confront difficult problems. The Nigerian people did not elect Tinubu merely to explain why their lives are difficult. They elected him to make their lives better.

There comes a moment in the life of every nation when propaganda loses its power, political slogans become meaningless and statistics can no longer conceal the suffering of the people.

For Nigeria, that moment is approaching. And the question staring President Bola Ahmed Tinubu in the face is brutally simple:

Are Nigerians better off today than they were before he became President?

Not the stock market.

Not foreign investors.

Not credit-rating agencies.

Not the IMF.

Not the World Bank.

Nigerians.

The trader in Onitsha.

The farmer in Benue.

The civil servant in Abuja.

The mechanic in Benin City.

The teacher in Kaduna.

The student in Nsukka.

The pensioner in Ibadan.

The mother in Kano, struggling to feed four children.

The young graduates wandering the streets of Lagos without a job.

They are the people who must answer the question in 2027.

And if the answer is no, then no amount of political choreography, defections, endorsements, propaganda or presidential speeches should be allowed to drown out their verdict.

President Tinubu inherited a battered economy. That is true.

He inherited an economy burdened by fuel subsidies, exchange-rate distortions, weak public finances, insecurity and years of structural mismanagement.

That is also true.

But governments are elected precisely to confront difficult problems. The Nigerian people did not elect Tinubu merely to explain why their lives are difficult. They elected him to make their lives better.

On May 29, 2023, the President announced that fuel subsidy was gone.

The declaration was bold.

The consequences were immediate. Fuel prices exploded. Transport fares surged. Food prices followed. Businesses adjusted their costs upwards. Household purchasing power collapsed.

The government’s argument was that the subsidy had become fiscally unsustainable and that removing it would free resources for productive investment.

There is a serious economic argument for subsidy reform. But there is an equally serious question:

Where is the dividend for the ordinary Nigerian?

Even Reuters, while acknowledging the government’s argument that its reforms have improved public finances, reported in August 2026 that the reforms had inflicted severe short-term hardship on ordinary Nigerians and intensified the cost-of-living crisis.

This is the great contradiction of Tinubunomics. The government says the patient is recovering. The patient says he is dying.

Both statements cannot be ignored.

Tinubu’s defenders will point to GDP growth.

They will point to rising foreign reserves.

They will point to stronger oil production.

They will point to improved investor confidence.

They will point to Moody’s decision to revise Nigeria’s credit outlook from stable to positive.

And they have a point.

Nigeria’s economy has shown signs of macroeconomic improvement. Moody’s cited stronger growth, increased foreign exchange reserves and improved resilience when it revised the country’s outlook in August 2026.

But here is the uncomfortable truth:

A country can have a recovering economy and a suffering population at the same time.

GDP does not buy yam.

Credit ratings do not pay school fees.

Foreign reserves do not put fuel in a poor man’s generator.

Investor confidence does not pay hospital bills.

And macroeconomic stability does not automatically translate into dinner.

That is why the Nigerian government must stop confusing economic recovery with human recovery.

The two are not necessarily the same.

Reuters reported that Nigeria’s GDP per capita had fallen dramatically since 2015 and that national debt had climbed to about ₦159.35 trillion by March 2026, from ₦12.6 trillion at the end of 2015.

That figure should frighten every Nigerian.

Not because borrowing is inherently evil.

Borrowing can build railways.

Borrowing can build power plants.

Borrowing can transform agriculture.

Borrowing can build universities, hospitals and industries.

But borrowing becomes dangerous when future generations inherit the debt while today’s generation cannot identify the corresponding transformation.

Nigeria is borrowing its way into tomorrow.

Nigeria’s debt problem is not merely about the size of the debt.

It is about what debt is doing to the future.

When an increasing portion of public revenue goes into debt servicing, government has less fiscal space to invest in education, healthcare, infrastructure and human development.

The IMF has warned about Nigeria’s weak debt affordability and fiscal pressures, while Moody’s similarly identified limited revenue generation and weak debt affordability as continuing constraints on Nigeria’s credit profile.

This raises a question that politicians rarely ask:

Who will pay?

The answer is simple.

The Nigerian child being born today.

The university student.

The apprentice.

The young entrepreneur.

The civil servant.

The unborn generation.

They will inherit the obligations created by today’s political class.

And yet, the Nigerian political elite continues to behave as if government money were an inexhaustible private reservoir.

Then insecurity enters the room.

What is economic reform worth if Nigerians cannot safely travel from one town to another?

What is GDP growth worth if farmers cannot confidently return to their farms?

What is foreign investment worth if kidnapping remains a business model?

What is national development worth if families continue to fear for their children?

Security is not an optional component of development.

It is the foundation upon which development rests.

Reuters reported in August that insecurity remained one of the central grievances confronting Tinubu as he entered the 2027 campaign season, with killings, kidnappings and mass abductions continuing to shape public opinion.

This is where Tinubu’s administration must be judged not by speeches but by outcomes.

Can Nigerians sleep with both eyes closed?

Can farmers farm?

Can traders travel?

Can children go to school without becoming targets?

Can Nigerians live without calculating the probability of being kidnapped on a highway?

These are the real security indicators.

Not the number of military operations announced at press conferences.

The corruption question will not disappear

And then there is corruption.

This is where the Tinubu administration faces a credibility crisis that cannot be wished away.

Let us be absolutely clear:

An allegation is not a conviction.

Nobody should be declared guilty by newspaper headlines, social media campaigns or opposition propaganda.

But equally:

An allegation involving public officials must not be buried because the accused is politically powerful.

The controversy involving Chief of Staff Femi Gbajabiamila is a perfect example of why Nigerians need institutions rather than political friendships.

Gbajabiamila was questioned by the ICPC over allegations connected with the Presidential Foreign Investment Promotion Council controversy. His lawyer confirmed his appearance and response to investigators.

That appearance, by itself, does not establish wrongdoing.

But Nigerians have every right to demand:

What happened?

Who authorized what?

Who benefited?

Was public money involved?

Were proper procedures followed?

If there was wrongdoing, who would be prosecuted?

And if there was no wrongdoing:

Why should the public not be given a transparent explanation?

That is what accountability means.

Not witch-hunting.

Not persecution.

Not political vendetta.

Transparency. The same standard must apply to every powerful figure around the presidency, including ministers and political allies.

Nyesom Wike, for example, is one of the most powerful political figures in the Tinubu administration. He has publicly dismissed allegations against Gbajabiamila as politically motivated.

Fine.

But political power should never become a shield against scrutiny.

The rule should be brutally simple:

If you control public resources, the public has the right to examine your conduct.

No sacred cows.

Not Gbajabiamila.

Not Wike.

Not governors.

Not ministers.

Not legislators.

Not presidential aides.

And certainly not the President.

The greatest danger facing Nigeria may not actually be Tinubu.

It may be the political culture that has developed around him—and around every Nigerian government before him.

A culture in which politicians defect from one party to another overnight.

A culture in which yesterday’s enemy becomes today’s political ally.

A culture in which political ideology is frequently sacrificed at the altar of personal ambition.

A culture in which politicians cross the political aisle not because their principles changed but because their calculations changed.

A culture in which public office is treated as a route to private wealth.

A culture in which the electorate is remembered every four years and forgotten the morning after victory.

This is how political sanity dies. And Nigeria is dangerously close to political exhaustion.

Reuters reports that Tinubu’s APC has strengthened its political position dramatically, with 31 of Nigeria’s 36 governors now belonging to the ruling party. Analysts have consequently raised concerns about the implications of such concentration of political power.

A dominant governing party is not automatically undemocratic.

But democracy becomes dangerously fragile when political power becomes so concentrated that institutional checks begin to look ceremonial.

Nigeria must never become a one-party political estate.

The presidency is not an inheritance.

The National Assembly is not a rubber stamp.

Governors are not political emperors.

And the Nigerian people are not subjects.

They are citizens.

The 2027 election must become a referendum on performance.

This is why 2027 is different.

The coming presidential election must not be reduced to APC versus opposition.

It must be about performance versus promises.

It must be about results versus propaganda.

It must be about citizens versus political godfathers.

And it must be about whether Nigerians are prepared to continue tolerating a political system that repeatedly asks them to sacrifice while the political class appears insulated from the consequences.

The election is scheduled for January 16, 2027. Reuters and AP both describe the contest as taking place amid serious economic and security grievances, although the opposition remains fragmented. That fragmentation is important.

Because the greatest ally of an unpopular incumbent is not necessarily popularity.

Sometimes it is an opposition that cannot unite.

Therefore, Nigerians must not surrender their political judgement to political parties.

They must interrogate every candidate.

AP reports that 18 candidates are in the presidential race, with Tinubu, Atiku Abubakar and Peter Obi among the major contenders attracting attention.

The Nigerian voter must ask all of them:

Where is your economic blueprint?

How will you reduce poverty?

How will you tackle insecurity?

How will you create productive employment?

How will you manage public debt?

How will you fight corruption?

How will you strengthen institutions?

How will you restore confidence in elections?

How will you make the Nigerian passport, naira and citizenship mean something again?

And most importantly:

What will you do differently?

Nigerians must stop selling their future

There is something the Nigerian voter must understand before 2027.

When a politician gives you ₦5,000 to vote for him, he is not helping you.

He is buying four years of access to your country’s treasury.

When he gives you rice, noodles, wrappers, transport money or a political appointment, ask yourself what he expects to control after winning.

Because the ₦5,000 may last a day.

The consequences of your vote may last four years.

A bag of rice may feed your family for a week.

A bad government can impoverish your family for a generation.

Do the mathematics.

Your vote is worth far more than whatever a desperate politician puts into your palm at the polling station.

The Nigerian voter must become the opposition

Perhaps this is the most important message of 2027:

The Nigerian people themselves must become the opposition.

Not violent opposition.

Not destructive opposition.

Constitutional opposition.

Question them.

Challenge them.

Monitor them.

Vote against them when necessary.

Vote for them when deserved.

Demand accountability.

Demand audited spending.

Demand transparency.

Demand competent leadership.

And when politicians fail, remember.

Do not allow ethnicity to erase memory.

Do not allow religion to erase memory.

Do not allow party loyalty to erase memory.

Do not allow money to erase memory.

Memory is the citizen’s greatest political weapon.

Tinubu’s real opponent is not Atiku or Obi

President Tinubu’s greatest opponent in 2027 may not be Atiku Abubakar.

It may not be Peter Obi.

It may not be any opposition party.

His greatest opponent may simply be the Nigerian citizen comparing 2023 with 2027.

The woman who remembers what ₦10,000 could buy before the reforms.

The farmer who remembers when insecurity drove him from his farm.

The young man who remembers submitting hundreds of job applications without success.

The family that remembers the price of fuel.

The parent who remembers the cost of school fees.

The patient who remembers the cost of medicine.

The trader who remembers what it meant to transport goods before fuel prices exploded.

The Nigerian who remembers being told:

“It is going to be painful, but the pain will eventually produce prosperity.”

That citizen has every right to ask:

Where is the prosperity?

The final judgement belongs to 200 million Nigerians

President Tinubu has argued that his reforms are necessary to rescue Nigeria from years of economic distortion.

His supporters say he inherited a broken system and is rebuilding it.

His economic managers point to stronger fiscal conditions, improved reserves, investment interest and growth.

Those achievements deserve recognition where they are real.

But government does not receive an award merely for surviving its own policies.

The ultimate test is whether the Nigerian people are surviving better because of them.

That is the test.

And that is why 2027 must not be an election of emotion.

It must be an election of memory.

An election of evidence.

An election of accountability.

An election in which every Nigerian asks:

Am I better off?

Am I safer?

Can I afford to eat?

Can my children find opportunities?

Can I trust government?

Can I trust the electoral system?

Can I trust those who hold public office with my money?

If the answer is yes, vote accordingly.

If the answer is no, vote accordingly.

But whatever Nigerians do, they must not surrender their votes.

Because once every four years, something extraordinary happens in Nigeria.

The political godfather becomes a candidate.

The minister becomes a campaigner.

The governor becomes a voter-seeker.

The billionaire becomes a philanthropist.

The politician who ignored the people suddenly remembers their names.

And the poor Nigerian becomes king—for one day.

Do not waste that day.

Do not sell it.

Do not rent it.

Do not surrender it.

Use it.

Use it to punish failure.

Use it to reward competence.

Use it to defend democracy.

Use it to protect the future.

Because the Nigerian presidency belongs neither to Bola Tinubu nor to any other politician.

It belongs to the Nigerian people.

And when 2027 comes, 200 million Nigerians must have the courage to look every politician in the eye and say:

“You asked for our votes. You received our mandate. You have had your opportunity. Now show us what you did with our country.”

Then let the ballot speak.

Let the people decide.

And when the votes are counted, let nobody—not the President, not the ruling party, not the opposition, not the electoral umpire, not the political godfather—be allowed to steal the verdict of 200 million Nigerians.

Nowinta Igbotako, a serial author, social critic, international conflict resolution expert, Editor@Large, Alltimepost.com newspaper (based in Boston Massachusetts, USA), is the Executive Director, Nigerian Good Governance Research Centre (NGGRC).