Opinion

By Usman Abdullahi Koli

Something extraordinary is unfolding on the Nigerian Exchange. A refinery that accumulated nearly two billion dollars in losses during its first two years of commercial operation is now inviting Nigerians to own a piece of the largest single-train industrial complex on the African continent for the price of a modest family grocery run. That is not charity. It is one of the most ambitious attempts to broaden ownership of a strategic Nigerian industrial asset.

Consider what is on the table. Dangote Petroleum Refinery and Petrochemicals FZE is offering 4.1 billion ordinary shares at ₦525 each, with a minimum subscription of ten shares, or ₦5,250. If fully subscribed, the offer raises about ₦2.15 trillion, or $1.63 billion. The company is targeting up to ten million retail investors. Aliko Dangote, who currently controls 87.27 per cent of the company, would retain about 84.34 per cent after a fully subscribed offer. This is not simply a founder cashing out. The refinery is issuing new shares, with proceeds earmarked for growth capital, including the first tranche of a $14.27 billion programme to double refining capacity from 700,000 barrels per day to 1.4 million by 2029.

The financial turnaround behind the offer is striking. The refinery lost about $1.51 billion in 2024 and another $475.8 million in 2025. In the first half of 2026, however, it reported profit after tax of $1.82 billion on revenue of $13.91 billion. Utilisation rose to an average of 83.6 per cent, reaching 700,000 barrels per day in June. Gross refining margins also rose sharply. This is a genuine operational turnaround, not something that should be dismissed simply because the company is now seeking public money. The refinery is also creating strategic value beyond its balance sheet. It is processing Nigerian crude that was previously exported while Nigeria imported refined products at a premium. It has exported jet fuel to international markets and now supplies more than 80 per cent of Nigeria’s domestic petrol demand. Its emergence has altered the country’s position in the regional fuel market and given Nigeria an industrial asset with global relevance.

But the arithmetic demands clear eyes. At ₦525 per share, the offer implies a valuation of roughly ₦65.22 trillion, or about $47.8 billion at the prospectus exchange rate. Some analysts have argued that the valuation is difficult to defend against global refining peers, with one analysis placing fair value considerably below the offer price. That does not make the IPO a bad investment. It means investors are being asked to pay for substantial future performance, not merely today’s earnings. The private placement immediately before the public offer deserves similar scrutiny. Between late June and late July 2026, the refinery sold about three billion ordinary shares to institutional investors at $0.35 per share, raising $2.5 billion. The placement was reportedly oversubscribed. The public offer price was roughly $0.40 per share. There can be legitimate reasons for differences between private and public pricing, including market access, structure and timing. Still, the gap is material enough for a retail investor to ask why institutions with greater negotiating power and access to due diligence paid less.

Debt adds another layer. Total indebtedness stood at $5.67 billion as of June 30, 2026, although net debt to EBITDA was a relatively modest 0.27 times. More important is the expansion bill. The IPO covers only a fraction of the $14.27 billion required to double capacity. The balance will have to come from internal cash flows, debt and potentially additional equity. For an investor buying today, future capital raises therefore matter because they could dilute existing holdings. Taxation is another under-discussed risk. The refinery currently benefits from its free-zone status, although its effective tax rate in the first half was 13.6 per cent. The prospectus indicates that domestic-market profits may become fully taxable from January 2028. If the business moves towards a higher blended tax burden, earnings could fall, and the already demanding valuation would become harder to justify.

Another question is whether the exceptional refining environment of 2026 can last. Geopolitical conflicts have disrupted refining capacity and lifted margins, creating unusually favourable conditions for producers with available capacity. The refinery itself acknowledges that some of its recent performance has benefited from these market disruptions. Investors should therefore distinguish between current profitability and sustainable profitability. A business can be excellent while its current earnings are temporarily exceptional. Yet the most consequential feature of this transaction may not be its valuation. It is its potential effect on the Nigerian capital market. Nigeria now has a much larger population of digitally connected retail investors, and the Dangote offer is deliberately designed to reach them through banks, fintech platforms, mobile money operators and other approved channels. The minimum entry point of ₦5,250 makes ownership accessible to people who could never contemplate buying into a strategic industrial asset through a conventional private placement. The offer opens on September 14 and closes on October 13, with listing expected later in the year.

If it succeeds, the implications could extend far beyond Dangote. It would demonstrate that Nigerian capital markets can mobilise substantial domestic savings for industrial expansion while giving ordinary citizens a stake in productive assets. Other African industrialists would notice. A successful transaction could encourage more companies to consider public ownership rather than keeping strategic assets concentrated among a few investors. But public participation must not be confused with informed investment. The communication around the offer has been powerful, but storytelling is not the same as financial education. The official IPO platform itself warns investors that shares can fall as well as rise and urges them to read the prospectus and seek professional advice where necessary. That warning matters because a ₦5,250 minimum does not make the underlying investment risk-free.

The Saudi Aramco IPO offers a useful comparison. Saudi Arabia successfully mobilised millions of retail investors when it listed a portion of its national oil company in 2019. But the comparison has limits. Aramco entered the market with a long-established earnings record and extraordinary profitability. Dangote Refinery’s transformation is impressive, but its current profitability has a much shorter history. Investors should therefore admire the industrial achievement without allowing admiration to substitute for valuation analysis. It also offers a broader lesson for corporate communication. Every campaign for a transaction of this magnitude should explain not only what investors might gain but what they could lose. The prospectus contains the losses, debt, tax changes, expansion requirements and other risks. The challenge is ensuring that the millions of people being targeted actually understand them. A 25-year-old fintech user in Lagos and a 60-year-old retiree in Kaduna do not necessarily need the same message or the same educational channel.

None of this diminishes the offer’s significance. Dangote deserves credit for attempting to place public ownership at the centre of an African industrial story of this scale. Nigeria has spent decades watching natural resources generate wealth without creating enough broad-based ownership of productive assets. Giving citizens an opportunity to own part of the infrastructure processing the country’s crude is economically meaningful and potentially transformative. But participation is not the same as investment. The person who buys ten shares with money he cannot afford to lose is not making a sound investment simply because the entry price is low. The young professional who borrows to subscribe because he expects the shares to double immediately after listing is not investing on analysis. He is speculating on a narrative.

Another question deserves attention: what happens if the offer is not fully subscribed? The answer should not be treated as a referendum on Dangote’s industrial achievement. Retail investors may simply conclude that the price is too high or that the risks are not adequately compensated. A partial subscription could alter the pace or financing mix of the expansion, but it could also demonstrate something healthy about the market: investors are capable of saying no when the numbers do not convince them. A capital market should reward good businesses without suspending price discipline. Dangote has also spoken about eventually listing the refinery in the United States after expansion. If that happens, the Nigerian retail investor could ultimately own a stake in a company with much wider international visibility. That possibility adds to the long-term attraction, but it should remain a future prospect rather than part of today’s investment case. Investors should buy the business that exists and the prospects reasonably supported by evidence, not a future valuation that may or may not materialise.

The real significance of this IPO is therefore bigger than whether Dangote’s share price rises after listing. It tests whether Nigerians can move from being consumers of large industrial businesses to becoming owners of them. That transition requires more than access. It requires confidence in institutions, credible disclosure, investor education and a market willing to reward both ambition and prudence. If those conditions hold, the Dangote offer could become a landmark in Nigeria’s financial history. If they do not, the country will learn an equally important lesson about the difference between popular participation and responsible ownership. Nigeria needs disciplined participation now. The Securities and Exchange Commission must supervise the market after approval, enforce disclosure rules and guard against manipulation. The Nigerian Exchange must ensure that retail investors receive timely information. The government should resist turning the offer into a political slogan. And investors themselves must accept the responsibility that comes with ownership: read the prospectus, understand the business, assess the price and invest only what they can afford to leave exposed to market risk.

The subscription window opens on September 14 and closes on October 13. Millions of Nigerians will decide whether to buy a stake in one of the country’s most consequential industrial projects. They deserve more than a sales pitch. They deserve to know what they are buying, what they are risking and what assumptions must hold for the investment to work. Dangote has built something extraordinary and has opened the door for Nigerians to own a piece of it. That deserves recognition. But the ₦5,250 question is not simply whether Nigerians can afford to enter. It is whether, at ₦525 a share, the opportunity is worth the risk. That is the question every serious investor should answer before pressing the subscribe button.

Usman Abdullahi Koli wrote via mernoukoli@gmail.com. 

Directors: Ahmad A. Bifa & Auwal D. Yakasai 

‎Producer: Yakubu M. Yakub

‎Language: Hausa

‎Company: Tumbin Giwa TV

‎Premiere: 8/6/2026

‎Cast: Adam Garba, Isah Adam (Feroz Khan), Fatima Ibrahim, Maryam Booth, Maryam Yahaya, Ummusalama Inuwa, Radiya Jibril, Shatou Abdul, etc. Zarge is a Hausa word for ‘noose’, which refers to a loop of rope with a slipknot that tightens when pulled. Figuratively, the word denotes confusion or a difficult situation. The series Zarge lives up to its title, being a harrowing drama of compounding crises. 

The story revolves around Fatima (Fatima Ibrahim), a young village girl whose fate takes her away from her own family, only for her to become the saviour of another.

The series opens with Hajiya (Ummusalama Inuwa) plotting to abduct her pregnant in-law, Nafisa (Radiya Jibril), and have her unborn child killed. Meanwhile, Fatima and her friends return to their village after finishing boarding school, but their bus breaks down. As they wait for the driver to fix the vehicle, Fatima slips away and takes a forest shortcut, hoping to reach home sooner. 

Deep in the forest, Fatima finds Nafisa held captive by Hajiya’s henchmen. Nafisa attempts to escape, but her abductors chase her down. As she flees, she runs into Fatima, who has been hiding and watching. The ensuing struggle triggers Nafisa’s labour. Fatima helps her deliver the baby, and Nafisa, with her final breath, entrusts the newborn to her.

After an arduous journey, Fatima finally takes the infant home, only to face her parents’ disappointment. Assuming that Fatima has had the baby out of wedlock, they refuse to accept the situation. She therefore leaves home for the city, where she finds work as a housemaid. Ironically, she ends up in the very home of Nafisa’s in-laws, the people who wanted the baby dead. The drama continues…

Zarge is a gripping series that holds the audience in suspense, anticipating danger in almost every scene. Each episode ends with a perfect noose that you fear might tighten, especially as Fatima works in Hajiya’s house. What if she comes across Nafisa’s picture and reveals that the baby is her son? What if Hajiya discovers the truth and kills him?

However, Fatima appears to be a godsend to Nafisa’s family. Not only is she raising the surviving newborn, but she is also unknowingly saving his father, Umar (Adam Garba), without knowing who he is or his connection to the child. For instance, when Hajiya and her children plot to poison Umar, Fatima saves him by secretly replacing his poisoned food with another meal. 

The screenplay is tightly structured, with well-written character motivations that drive the plot. This makes the conflicts feel connected and engaging. The screenwriters and directors deserve commendation for bringing these elements together cohesively.

The series is also technically solid. The cinematography beautifully captures the natural forest landscapes, authentic village settings, and atmospheric night scenes. The sound design is carefully balanced, with Nazifi Asnanic’s evocative soundtrack heightening the emotional intensity.

The actors all deliver wonderful performances. Ummusalama Inuwa is effective as Hajiya, and the debutante Fatima Ibrahim is perfectly cast as the young village girl. She portrays her character’s innocence and inquisitiveness so convincingly that it is hard to imagine anyone else in the role. However, while Maryam Booth and Maryam Yahaya don’t get much scope, Adam Garba, Isah Adam (Feroz Khan), and Shatou Abdul deserve special mention.

In conclusion, Zarge is definitely one of the best series of the year. Its intriguing drama makes for an enjoyable watch. I highly recommend it.

Rating: 4/5

Reviewed by Habibu Maaruf Abdu.

By Ukasha Sani

As the ruling party, the APC, launches its presidential campaign in a bid to re-elect President Bola Tinubu, the question is no longer whether Nigerians can survive the present hardship, but whether they can survive its continuation.

Based on the last three years’ trajectory, a second victory for President Tinubu will not renew hope, as we have already lost it; it will only deepen hardship. All the tragic events in the country today, from the increase in fuel prices, insecurity, kidnapping and banditry to poor economic policies, are at their worst in the last three years. He has not reformed any sector; rather, they are more like abandoned projects that have worsened under his administration.

What if Tinubu wins? Then the economic hardship we call temporary becomes permanent policy.

They [the government] have comfortably watched the naira lose its dignity, from N460/$1 as of 29th May, 2023 to N1,475/$1 today.

They have watched fuel subsidy removal turn from a textbook reform into a daily punishment, from buying petrol at N200/litre in May 2023 to N1,440/litre today.

They have watched food inflation turn the market into a place of tears, where a bag of rice sells at N65,000 today compared to N30,000 in May, 2023. We are living in an economy where a bag of rice swallows the minimum wage. This government tells us the reforms are painful but necessary. But you should ask: necessary for whom? The hardship is not shared. The political class still convoys in new SUVs, still budgets billions for renovation and entertainment.

A second term means that the model stays. No reversal, no cushion, only more lectures about patience.

And amid this suffocation, they present NELFUND as an achievement to be applauded.

Let us be clear about NELFUND. It is not a grant. It is not a scholarship. It is not free education. It is a LOAN. A debt trap dressed as help. This is the only thing this government is proudly beating its chest about, yet it exposes its entire contradiction.

You cannot deny a man the peace and means to feed his family, deny him security on his farm, deny him a stable economy to run his shop, and then call yourself a saviour because you gave his daughter a loan to pay tuition. What happens after graduation? She graduates into the same jobless economy, into the same insecurity, with a loan on her neck before her first job. This is not empowerment; it is enslaving the future to pay for the present’s failure.

A government that truly wants to educate the poor would have made education affordable, not loanable.

What if Tinubu wins? Then insecurity gets a new uniform.

Banditry is no longer an emergency; it is an industry. Kidnapping has become a multi-million-dollar enterprise.

People are being picked off the streets for ransom, picked from their homes, schools, parks and every other place, without seeing any visible effort by the government to address it. It only amplifies the PR bots that come online and tell us not to “politicise” insecurity. What it means is, if he wins, we will continue to have a government that negotiates from a position of weakness, that condemns attacks today and forgets the victims tomorrow.

Dear PR bots, the insecurity you defend today, because you are paid or promised to be paid to do so, is coming back to haunt you tomorrow. Kidnappers and bandits are not going to spare you because you are a Tinubu supporter.

What if Tinubu wins? Then partisanship becomes the constitution.

Appointments, projects, even palliatives are prioritised through ethnicity and party loyalty. Trying every possible way to conquer all 36 states, leaving no governor in the opposition. The National Assembly has become an extension of Aso Rock. A second Tinubu victory will entrench this winner-takes-all politics. It will be the final burial of independent institutions. Dissent will be called treason, and criticism will be tagged as hate speech. This is where movements like Tinubu Must Go were denied access to exercise their constitutional rights.

And what if Tinubu wins? Then corruption will be legalized by silence.

The subsidy is gone, but where did the subsidy money go? Billions saved, yet borrowing increases. Customs revenue hits record highs, yet hospitals have no drugs. Politicians with existing corruption cases are contesting elections. Under a continued Tinubu administration, accountability will remain selective. The opposition’s corrupt will be prosecuted; the ruling party’s corrupt will be given a chance to govern again.

The government has nothing to show to justify its re-election next year.

After three and a half years of serial governance disasters, it is clear this government has no clue how to tackle the challenges facing this country. They have failed, and perhaps that is why the president himself decided to send his representatives to campaign for him, because he has nothing to show to justify his re-election bid next year. That is also why his PR bots are struggling to explain his failures. This is why some Villa big boys from the North are selling him through the lens of religion and tall tales. Some of them call him “Malam, Al-Sheikh, Muhammad Bola Tinubu,” while others say he is from Kano and that even the name Tinubu is a corruption of Tanimu. It is only your favourite Sheikh who is brazen enough to tell us that the North is well secured, that all those incidents of kidnapping and banditry are mere tales and not what is actually happening. That people can travel freely in all corners of the region at night.

What if Tinubu wins? It means Nigerians must prepare for four more years of explaining to their children why they cannot afford school fees, why the lights are still off, why they must check the road before travelling, why they must take a loan to learn in their own country, and why those who stole yesterday are leading today.

After three and a half years, why do they need more time, given they’ve been the most disastrous government since amalgamation?

Sir, even a bachelor’s degree—which has technically become harder to get than winning a presidential election for some lucky individuals—only gives you a 2-year probation period to meet the required CGPA, and failure to do so will result in you being asked to leave. So why do you need more time?

Unfortunately, despite all these nerve-wracking issues, Tinubu may still win his next election, not because he deserves it, but because the opposition is too sentimental and self-centred to drop their ego for the common man.

May Nigeria prosper

By Maji Bappa Maina


The strength of a government depends considerably on the quality of the people who serve within its institutions and the opportunities it creates for the next generation of professionals.

Policies require competent people to implement them, public institutions need experienced administrators to sustain their operations, and young graduates need opportunities to apply their knowledge.

For this reason, investment in human capital remains an important part of governance and long-term institutional development.

Two recent developments under Governor Mai Mala Buni bring this issue into focus: the upward review of salaries for permanent secretaries in Yobe State and the graduation of more than 400 government-sponsored students from universities in India.

Although the initiatives address different groups, they share a common purpose: strengthening the people whose knowledge, experience and professional commitment can contribute to the state’s future.

Their significance extends beyond the immediate benefits received by the individuals involved.

Together, they raise an important question about governance: how can investment in workers’ welfare, professional training and higher education translate into stronger institutions and better service delivery?

The recent engagement between Governor Buni and representatives of the permanent secretaries offers an important starting point.

According to the report issued by the Director-General of Press and Media Affairs to the Governor, Mamman Mohammed, the representatives visited the Governor to express appreciation following the upward review of their salaries.

During the meeting, Buni urged the senior civil servants to justify the confidence placed in them and the investment made in their professional development.

He reminded them of their responsibilities as role models to younger officers and emphasised the expectation that improved welfare should be accompanied by greater commitment to public service.

The state Head of Service, Abdullahi Musa, reportedly stated that the salary structure for permanent secretaries had remained unchanged since 2006, despite previous efforts to secure a review.

If maintained as reported, the structure had remained static for a considerable period before the recent decision.

The importance of the review goes beyond the financial adjustment itself.

Permanent secretaries occupy significant positions within the administrative system.

They help coordinate government activities, supervise departments, support policy implementation and preserve institutional continuity as officers retire and new personnel assume responsibility.

Their effectiveness can influence the quality of decisions, the speed of administrative processes and the ability of ministries to fulfil their mandates.

Recognising the responsibilities attached to these offices is therefore an important part of the wider discussion about civil-service performance.

However, improved remuneration alone cannot guarantee improved service delivery.

Its value depends on how it is matched with professional discipline, accountability, competence and measurable results.

The Governor’s message was significant in this regard: the benefit carries an expectation of stronger performance.

A well-functioning civil service requires a relationship between what government provides and what public officers are expected to deliver.

Workers’ welfare matters, but so does the responsibility to ensure that public institutions serve citizens effectively.

Another important dimension of Buni’s remarks concerned the training of civil servants to fill vacancies created by retirement.

This highlights an issue that often receives less public attention than salary adjustments: the need to prepare people before critical positions become vacant.

Every experienced officer carries institutional knowledge acquired through years of service.

This includes an understanding of administrative procedures, organisational challenges, professional relationships and the practical lessons that cannot always be captured in official documents.

When experienced officers retire without adequate preparation of their successors, institutions risk losing valuable knowledge and continuity.

Training and succession planning can help address this challenge.

They prepare younger officers for greater responsibilities, support the transfer of professional knowledge and reduce the disruption that may accompany changes in personnel.

For such an approach to succeed, training must be connected to actual institutional needs.

It should equip officers with relevant skills, strengthen their ability to manage responsibilities and encourage a culture in which knowledge is shared rather than confined to individuals.

Senior officers also have an important role to play by mentoring younger colleagues and helping them understand the demands of public service.

The graduation of more than 400 Buni Scholars from universities in India introduces another dimension to the same discussion.

According to the official report, the graduates completed studies in various health-related and engineering courses.

Their representatives visited the Governor to express appreciation for the opportunity, while Buni congratulated them and urged them to serve the state effectively and efficiently.

For the graduates, the completion of their studies marks the achievement of an important personal ambition.

For the state, it represents the development of a group of trained professionals whose knowledge could contribute to important areas of public service.

The significance of government-sponsored education lies not only in enabling individuals to obtain qualifications, but also in building professional capacity that might otherwise remain limited.

Specialised training can help develop the knowledge and expertise required to strengthen institutions, improve professional practice and address shortages in essential fields.

Health-related disciplines, for instance, are important to the availability and quality of healthcare services.

Engineering expertise can support technical operations, infrastructure management and other specialised responsibilities.

By sponsoring students in these fields, the state has created an opportunity to develop skills that may contribute to its long-term needs.

Yet graduation is only one stage of the process.

The full value of the scholarship programme will depend on how effectively the graduates can apply their knowledge after returning from their studies.

Appropriate placements, professional development, supportive working conditions and opportunities to use their qualifications will all influence the results.

This is why the Governor’s call for the graduates to give back to the state carries significance.

Their education was an opportunity provided through public investment, and their professional contributions can become part of the return on that investment.

At the same time, the responsibility does not rest on the graduates alone.

Government institutions must also create conditions in which trained professionals can contribute meaningfully.

Where skills are matched with relevant responsibilities, the benefits can extend beyond individual careers to the institutions and communities those professionals serve.

The relationship between the permanent secretaries and the Buni Scholars offers an interesting perspective on the development of human capital.

One group represents experience within the public service; the other represents a new generation entering professional life.

Both have different responsibilities, but each has a role in strengthening the state’s institutional capacity.

The permanent secretaries are expected to use their experience to improve administration, guide younger officers and maintain professional standards.

The graduates are expected to apply their newly acquired knowledge and contribute to the sectors for which they were trained.

In both cases, the wider public interest provides the basis for evaluating the value of the opportunity received.

There is also a lesson in continuity. Sustainable institutional development cannot depend entirely on the efforts of one generation.

Experienced officers must prepare their successors, while younger professionals must be given the opportunity to learn, contribute and grow.

When these processes work together, institutions become better positioned to retain knowledge and maintain performance over time.

The next important step is to assess the results of these investments.

For the civil service, this could involve examining administrative efficiency, professional competence, accountability and the quality of services delivered.

For the scholarship programme, relevant measures could include graduate employment, deployment to appropriate fields, professional retention and the practical contributions graduates make to their areas of specialisation.

Such assessments would help establish whether the opportunities created are achieving their intended objectives.

They would also provide useful information for future decisions on staff development, scholarship selection and workforce planning.

Ultimately, the salary review for permanent secretaries and the graduation of more than 400 Buni Scholars illustrate two complementary aspects of human-capital development: recognising the responsibilities of experienced public officers and preparing younger professionals for future contributions.

The Governor has made the expectation clear to both groups.

Permanent secretaries must justify the confidence placed in them, while the graduates are encouraged to use their education for the benefit of the state.

The lasting value of these initiatives will emerge through the quality of service, the competence of public institutions and the contributions of the people who have benefited from these opportunities.

Government investment in people reaches its greatest value when improved welfare, professional knowledge and individual opportunity translate into better service for the public.


Maji Bappa Maina is an agent of Voice of Development, Leadership and public Insight

By  Maji Bappa Maina

The development of a state presents a fundamental policy question: how can government concentrate the infrastructure required by its capital while ensuring that other towns, rural communities and local economies also receive meaningful attention? The answer requires more than the construction of prominent projects.

It calls for a development approach that recognises differences in local needs, connects communities to economic opportunities and distributes public investment across the state’s geographical space.

This question is particularly relevant to Yobe State under Governor Mai Mala Buni.

While Damaturu continues to receive major infrastructure investments, projects across other parts of the state provide an opportunity to examine a broader development approach involving roads, markets, transport facilities, sports infrastructure and local-government work plans.

Viewed collectively, these interventions suggest a development agenda that extends beyond the state capital.

Their significance lies in the different functions they serve and the ways they can contribute to the economic and social life of communities across Yobe’s 17 Local Government Areas.

Damaturu and the Wider Geography of Development

A state capital naturally attracts substantial public investment. As the administrative centre, Damaturu accommodates government institutions, businesses, public services and a growing population.

Its infrastructure must respond to traffic, commercial activity, public-sector operations and the demands of urban expansion.

The flyover and underpass project reflects the need to address urban mobility and improve the movement of people and vehicles.

Investment in major urban infrastructure can support commercial activity, improve access and prepare the capital for future demands.

Damaturu’s sports infrastructure also forms part of this picture.

The stadium in the capital is an important sporting facility in Yobe and is regarded locally as one of the notable stadiums in the Northeast. Alongside the reported 5,000-square-metre stadium project in Buni Yadi, it illustrates the place of sports facilities in the state’s wider infrastructure landscape.

However, the development of the capital raises an important policy consideration: the extent to which investment in the urban centre is complemented by infrastructure in other communities.

The relevant question is not whether Damaturu should receive major projects.

It is whether the development of Damaturu can proceed alongside improvements in the towns and rural settlements whose residents also depend on government investment.

The examples emerging from other parts of Yobe suggest that this broader geographical perspective deserves attention.

Roads as Instruments of Economic Connection

Road infrastructure is often discussed in terms of kilometres constructed, project costs or the physical appearance of a completed route.

From a development-policy perspective, however, its wider importance lies in the connections it establishes between people, productive activities and markets.

In a report published on 14 January 2026, Vanguard reported that the Buni administration had constructed more than 100 roads connecting towns and villages across Yobe’s 17 LGAs over the preceding six years.

The report also identified other infrastructure projects at different stages of implementation.

Among the additional examples provided for this analysis are the 59-kilometre Kariyari–Dapchi–Bayamari road link, the 18-kilometre Bukarti–Toshia road in Yunusari and the 10-kilometre Chusbosko–Tagali road in Bade Local Government Area.

These routes illustrate why geographical connectivity matters to development outside major urban centres.

A road linking settlements can influence the cost of transporting agricultural produce, the time required to reach markets and the accessibility of healthcare and other services.

It can also strengthen commercial relationships between communities that depend on one another for goods, labour and trade.

For agricultural households, the ability to move produce to buyers is an important part of the income-generating process. Production alone does not guarantee economic benefit if transportation is expensive or access to markets is difficult.

Improved connectivity can help reduce these barriers, although the actual effect depends on road quality, maintenance, traffic and the availability of functioning markets.

The same principle applies to social services. Where roads improve access between settlements and service centres, residents may find it easier to reach hospitals, schools and administrative offices.

The scale of that benefit will vary from one community to another, but the underlying relationship between connectivity and access remains an important consideration in development planning.

The reported construction of more than 100 roads therefore offers a useful basis for examining how infrastructure investment can extend beyond Damaturu and connect communities across the state.

Markets and the Geography of Local Economic Growth

Roads become more economically useful when they connect people to places where goods and services are exchanged.

This makes market infrastructure an important complement to the development of transport networks.

The 16 modern markets reported in the wider project inventory, including those at foundation stage, provide another example of investment beyond the capital.

Their development raises a broader question about how commercial activity can be supported across different local-government areas rather than becoming increasingly concentrated in one urban centre.

Markets are not simply physical structures. They are meeting points for producers, traders, transport operators, artisans and consumers.

Their contribution to local development depends on whether they offer accessible and functional spaces for commercial activity and whether surrounding communities can reach them without excessive difficulty.

For farmers, a functioning market can provide an outlet for agricultural produce. For traders, it can create a more organised environment in which to conduct business.

For consumers, it can improve access to goods and services.

For local authorities, well-managed markets may also provide opportunities to improve the organisation of commercial activities.

The distribution of market facilities across different LGAs can therefore be understood as part of a wider effort to support economic activity in multiple locations.

The distinction between completed markets and those still at foundation stage remains important.

A project under construction has not yet delivered the same benefits as an operational facility.

The eventual contribution of the 16 markets will depend on their completion, accessibility, management, maintenance and ability to attract sustained commercial use.

Nevertheless, their inclusion in the wider development picture demonstrates the importance of examining economic infrastructure beyond the state capital.

Transport Facilities and the Movement of Goods and People

The motor park in Buni Yadi and the trailer park in Potiskum provide further examples of infrastructure serving communities outside Damaturu.

Transport facilities occupy an important position between road construction and economic activity.

Roads provide routes for movement, while motor parks and freight facilities help organise the movement of passengers, vehicles and goods.

A motor park can provide a designated location for passenger transport, vehicle operations and related commercial activities.

Its effectiveness depends on its accessibility, management, safety and integration with transport routes.

A trailer park serves a different purpose. Facilities for heavy-goods vehicles can help accommodate freight operations, including parking and loading activities, where these are properly planned and managed.

Such infrastructure can be relevant to commercial centres that receive or dispatch substantial volumes of goods.

The significance of these projects is not limited to their physical presence.

They represent different ways in which government infrastructure can support the movement that connects local production, commerce and consumption.

For Potiskum and other commercial centres, the relationship between transport infrastructure and trading activity is particularly relevant.

For Buni Yadi, a motor park can serve local mobility needs while providing a more organised setting for passenger transport.

The wider policy consideration is that development involves more than constructing roads.

It also requires attention to the facilities that make transportation and commercial activity function effectively.

Buni Yadi: Connecting Commercial, Social and Community Infrastructure

The examples from Buni Yadi offer an opportunity to examine how development can address several dimensions of community life.

The motor park, Buni Gari Mini Market and reported 5,000-square-metre stadium project represent different categories of infrastructure: transport, commerce and sports.

Each has a distinct purpose. The motor park can support passenger movement; the mini market can provide a setting for local trading; and the stadium can offer space for sporting activities, youth participation and community events.

Considering these projects together helps illustrate why local development should not be assessed through a single category of infrastructure. Communities have interconnected economic and social needs.

Transport facilities support movement, markets support exchange, and sports facilities provide opportunities for recreation and organised activities.

A stadium’s value, for example, depends not merely on its construction but also on its accessibility, maintenance, management and availability for regular use.

Where these conditions are met, sports infrastructure can contribute to youth engagement and community life.

The same principle applies to markets and transport facilities.

Their contribution to development depends on whether residents can use them effectively and whether they continue to serve their intended purposes.

Buni Yadi therefore provides one example of how the development agenda outside Damaturu encompasses different types of public infrastructure rather than focusing exclusively on roads or conventional public buildings.

Sports Infrastructure in Damaturu and Other Communities

The inclusion of sports facilities in both Damaturu and Buni Yadi also broadens the meaning of development.

The stadium in Damaturu represents the capital’s sporting infrastructure, while the proposed or reported 5,000-square-metre facility in Buni Yadi points to sports development beyond the state capital.

Together, they raise questions about access to recreation, opportunities for young people and the distribution of facilities that support community participation.

Sports infrastructure does not replace investment in healthcare, education, water or other essential services. Its contribution is different.

Properly maintained sporting facilities can provide spaces for physical activity, organised competition, talent development and social interaction.

The extent of their impact depends on the programmes and opportunities built around them.

A facility that remains accessible and actively used can serve a wider purpose than one that is constructed but poorly maintained or underutilised.

From a development-policy perspective, the presence of sports infrastructure in different locations is therefore worth considering as part of the wider distribution of public facilities across the state.

Local-Government Work Plans and Development Priorities

The geographical distribution of infrastructure is only one dimension of the development process.

Another concerns the institutional arrangements through which local needs are identified, projects are selected and public funds are allocated.

In May 2023, the News Agency of Nigeria reported that Governor Buni approved the release of approximately ₦765.9 million as the final 40 per cent payment for work-plan projects across the 17 LGAs. The projects had a reported total cost of approximately ₦1.7 billion, with 60 per cent previously paid.

The reported areas of intervention included water supply, sanitation and hygiene, agriculture and healthcare.

The report also described a process involving the scrutiny and prioritisation of projects through a local-government budget committee, alongside monitoring and supervision by the Ministry for Local Government and Chieftaincy Affairs.

This arrangement is relevant because the needs of local-government areas are not necessarily identical.

Communities differ in their infrastructure gaps, economic activities, population patterns and access to public services.

A structured work-plan process provides a mechanism through which different priorities can be considered within the public expenditure system.

However, the geographical distribution of projects should not automatically be equated with complete decentralisation.

Establishing the extent of local decision-making would require further evidence about how priorities are proposed, who approves them, how allocations are calculated and what authority local councils exercise.

Even with that distinction, the reported work-plan funding demonstrates an institutional channel for financing development interventions across the 17 LGAs. It provides a useful basis for examining how local needs are incorporated into a wider state development process.

Beyond the Number of Projects: Questions of Impact

The range of projects discussed here provides a useful picture of development across different geographical locations and sectors.

But a serious assessment must go beyond counting roads, markets, parks and stadiums.

Three considerations are particularly important.

First, geographical reach concerns which communities benefit from public investment and whether areas with different needs are being considered.

Second, functional value concerns whether projects address identifiable problems.

A road should improve connectivity; a market should support commercial activity; and a transport facility should serve movement and logistics needs.

Third, sustainability concerns whether completed projects are maintained, managed and used over time.

Public infrastructure produces lasting benefits only when it remains functional and accessible to the people for whom it was intended.

These considerations do not diminish the importance of constructing projects.

Rather, they provide a framework for understanding how public investment can translate into practical improvements in people’s lives.

They also explain why transparent project information, completion records, maintenance plans and evidence of usage are valuable to both government and citizens.

A development strategy becomes more meaningful when its achievements can be examined not only through expenditure and construction figures but also through the services and opportunities that the resulting infrastructure provides.

One State, Multiple Centres of Opportunity

The development of Yobe cannot be understood solely through the transformation taking place in Damaturu.

The wider picture includes the roads connecting towns and villages, modern markets at different stages of development, transport facilities in Buni Yadi and Potiskum, community infrastructure and local-government work-plan projects.

The flyover and underpass in Damaturu, the stadium in the capital, the road links in Yunusari and Bade, the modern markets, the Buni Yadi motor park, Buni Gari Mini Market and the trailer park in Potiskum serve different purposes.

Their common relevance lies in how they contribute to the infrastructure available across different parts of the state.

This is the central policy question raised by the administration’s geographically distributed projects: how can investment in the state capital be combined with improvements in the accessibility, commercial capacity and public facilities of other communities?

The examples discussed in this article provide a basis for exploring that question.

They suggest that development beyond Damaturu is an important part of the state’s wider infrastructure programme, although the degree of equity and the precise effects of individual projects must be assessed through project-level evidence.

Ultimately, the success of a state’s development effort depends not only on the visibility of its capital but also on the extent to which other communities are connected to public services and economic opportunities.

Damaturu can continue to develop as Yobe’s administrative and urban centre while other towns strengthen their commercial activities, improve transport connections and expand access to community facilities.

The broader objective is a state in which development is not confined to a single urban centre, but is pursued across different locations in ways that respond to local needs and support wider economic and social progress.

Maji Bappa Maina Voice of Development, Leadership and public Insight Agent.

By Abubakar Suleiman

Before our very eyes, the Abuja–Kaduna train service is slowly dying. Its final demise is only a matter of when, not how.

If nothing drastic is done, the Rigasa, Kubwa and Idu stations may become comatose in a not-too-distant future, just as the Jere, Rijana, and Kakau stations have been left to weeds, rodents and reptiles. 

Forget the rapid infrastructural development of the Kaduna–Kano rail line; without the leadership and management required to sustain it, it risks following the same trajectory as the Abuja–Kaduna train services.

This is not pessimism. It is a warning about what happens when infrastructure is built without the strong leadership, top-notch maintenance culture and institutional commitment needed to keep it functional.

The number of daily train trips between Abuja and Kaduna shrank from four in each direction to just one.

The waiting area is gradually becoming shabby. When you lift your head to look at the roof or walls, cobwebs stare back, reminding you that Nigeria is a slaughterhouse where maintenance meets its dead end.

Let’s not even talk about buying a ticket. That’s a hassle. You just can’t get one in peace. For your sanity, you need a third party to get it for you.

The barcode scanners meant to grant access to the place housing the train and rail tracks can sometimes just choose not to work. Power supply issues? I don’t know. Functionality issues? I still don’t know. You’re left with a manual screening method that generates traffic.

Simple things like this, which ought to be fixed with urgency, only become paramount when a security breach leads to something unimaginable. But then, this is not even unimaginable.

The escalator and elevator can be idle, leaving you with the must-exercise of using the staircase. 

Mid-trip, the AC could just stop working, leaving the coaches stuffy. It has happened to me countless times. Pray you’re not unfortunate enough to have someone quietly fart, leaving the space momentarily filled with a rotten-egg-like fume. 

To fart is human, but to do so in a fully packed coach is not only inconsiderate and irresponsible; it is ungodly.

The lavatory in the train is another eyesore. Even prisoners deserve better; talk more of dignified people who are not convicts. Some of them have no water. You need to walk into another coach to ease yourself. Some charging ports aren’t working.

Should we not talk about the inconsiderate noise makers?

You’ll find yourself on a train in another country and wonder whether it’s a national mourning day because people are so mindful not to be a nuisance to the next person. No noise. Silence rules the sojourn. They’re not dumb; they are simply being civil and considerate.

Try the Abuja–Kaduna train. It can be so disgusting. From the person at the top of his voice making phone calls with no moral scruples, to acquaintances or friends who bump into each other and then start a noise like an unsolicited ‘radio station,’ to the one who turns on music on his phone without using earphones or AirPods.

I don’t know whether our loudness is meant to prove a point. Sometimes, we carry this particularly bad behaviour into another country without reading the room. I digress.

What about some unruly guys who jump onto the moving train to help passengers carry their luggage? They sometimes drag the right of way with passengers along the walkway as the train tends towards a halt. Moving luggage can be done with decorum and in peace. But it seems we thrive in chaos.

I know the aviation sector has a dedicated Ministry of Aviation. It is much more regulated worldwide than the railway industry, so it is more important to remove it from the Ministry of Transportation.

However, in other countries, railway transportation falls outside the Ministry of Transportation’s purview. They have a dedicated Ministry of Railways. I had wanted to suggest the same for Nigeria. But is it even about having a dedicated ministry?

The key policy question is whether a separate ministry would improve accountability, funding, coordination, oversight, and efficient service delivery, or simply add another layer of bureaucracy to the current red-tapism we have? Your guess is as good as mine.

We already have the Nigerian Railway Corporation, the Railway Property Management Company Limited and the Rail Transport Services Department within the Ministry of Transportation, yet our train services are anything but reliable and efficient.

Okay, End of Rant.

Ali Tijjani Hassan

I am in Damaturu to witness the third edition of the Yobe State Spelling Bee Competition, and to be honest, I might not be doing justice to what I witnessed if I wait for decades before telling my unborn children about how Governor Mai Mala Buni, CON, is gradually refining the educational sector in Yobe State during his tenure.

His Excellency, the Deputy Governor of Yobe State, Alhaji Idi Barde Gubana, Wazirin Fune, declared the programme open and encouraged the young participants to do their best and make their communities proud. As he said, and I quote: “Forty-five years back, we were at your level, but today we are at the mantle of leadership and about to exit. You are indeed the leaders of tomorrow, and you are on the right track.” 

The Deputy Governor also appreciated the Secretary to the Yobe State Government, Dr Mohammed Goje, FRSPH, for initiating, sustaining, and continuously improving this remarkable programme. He described it as an epitome of Dr Goje’s foresighted, selfless and transformative leadership in redefining the future of young people across the state.

It gladdened my heart to see some of the finest young brains among us serving as judges and facilitators. Among them was my friend, Shamsiyya Ibrahim Barde, a recent UN guest and UNOCT champion, who served as the lead judge, while Zara Alim Bakari, as the Master of Ceremony.

Then came the preliminary stage, where every participant had the opportunity to step onto the podium and show what they had upstairs. It was one of those experiences you genuinely wish you could record and replay. I saw young and talented teenagers trying to figure out what they could do with their abilities. For me, that is one of the greatest values of the Spelling Bee. Beyond competition, it gives young people a platform to discover, sharpen and showcase their abilities while preparing themselves for a world that will demand excellence from them. 

And, of course, the real drama started when a young man who, by all indications, is my Fulani brother, was asked to spell “Maritime.” My brother tried spelling it three times. The judges disagreed about his alphabet pronunciation, largely because of mother-tongue interference. For those of us in the audience, it became difficult to tell whether the sound he produced in the second syllable was “M” or “N.” As the debate intensified and the young man probably realised that his English-language command was not going to rescue him, he switched to Hausa and asked: Wai ko ba ‘Maritime’ ake nufi ba?”

The entire hall erupted in laughter. That young man single-handedly revived the energy in the room. But beyond the laughter, I admired something about him: confidence. He wasn’t afraid to try the word, even when he wasn’t entirely sure of himself. And sometimes, that confidence to stand before people, try, and keep going despite a barrier is itself a form of education.

Of course, I saw many other vibrant young people who came fully prepared to take the trophy home. Their confidence, composure and command of words were genuinely impressive.

Then came another moment that caught my attention. A young participant with visual impairment appeared on stage and was asked to spell “Senator.” He requested the assistance he needed to participate effectively, explaining that he had been taught to read and interpret words through a system different from what most of us were familiar with. That moment made me appreciate something beyond the competition itself: the preparation that went into making the programme inclusive. It reminded me that education is not truly transformative until it makes room for everyone.

I was equally impressed by the commitment of the organisers and stakeholders. The Secretary to the State Government, Dr Mohammed Goje, alongside members of his team and associates, including Dr Sa’id Ali Kori of Thinklab, Dr Suleiman Dauda of SOLID, Dr Bulama Maina Yaro of the Yobe State Pilot Livestock Development Programme, Dr Babagana Muhammad of Nigeria Food Corporation, and Prof. Sheriff Almuhajir of YMFB, maintained a constant presence throughout the programme despite their various professional and personal commitments. To me, that speaks to the strong commitment to the initiative.

The Yobe State Spelling Bee Competition is becoming more than an academic competition. It is creating a platform where young people can discover their confidence, test their abilities, compete with their peers and begin to imagine themselves in spaces of excellence.

And perhaps the greatest lesson from the competition is one I have always believed: School was never a scam. Give a child the right environment, expose them to opportunities, challenge them intellectually, and you may be watching the early stages of someone who will one day change your community.

The Yobe Spelling Bee is, without doubt, setting a pace for a future trajectory built around education, confidence, talent and the pursuit of excellence among the younger generation of Yobe State. Let’s come back tomorrow to witness what the next session’s “knock-out stage” will offer us. But I believe that many emotional moments would unfold.

Ali Tijjani Hassan writes from Damaturu.

By Usman Shehu

It seems to me that there is some kind of realignment, knowingly or unknowingly, against Atiku Abubakar, the ADC presidential candidate and one of the leading opposition contenders. But, as they say, there is no smoke without fire.

I have followed with awe and listened carefully to politicians, activists, and experts on different platforms explaining, with conviction, why Atiku should not contest the presidency on the grounds of power rotation. Their main argument is that since former President Muhammadu Buhari, who is from the northern part of the country, spent eight years in office, it is only fair to allow the South to complete its own eight years before power returns to the North. Initially, this was not worrisome. But the argument has gathered momentum and continued to unfold in unanticipated ways.

I was struck by the extent to which the debate over regional rotation has come to dominate the political conversation, with several parties fielding southern candidates and influential voices insisting that the South should retain the presidency until 2031. Some argue that this arrangement could strategically benefit Atiku by making him the only strong candidate from the North. Others believe that it could make his ambition considerably more difficult.

Whatever the calculations, the question remains: Are these political actors genuinely motivated by fairness and national cohesion, or are some of them only pursuing their personal interests?

Even among northerners who have traditionally spoken about integrity, fairness, and democratic choice, there appears to be considerable support for the argument that the South should complete its turn. Everyone seems to be talking about power rotation, while relatively little attention is being paid to the competence, capacity, character, and policy choices of the candidates.

In their effort to counter this argument, Atiku’s supporters have pointed out that, since the beginning of the Fourth Republic in 1999, the distribution of presidential power between the North and the South has not been as straightforward as some advocates of rotation suggest. This is a legitimate point.

Olusegun Obasanjo governed from 1999 to 2007, Umaru Musa Yar’Adua from 2007 to 2010, Goodluck Jonathan from 2010 to 2015, and Muhammadu Buhari from 2015 to 2023. Bola Tinubu assumed office in 2023. The death of Yar’Adua and the subsequent completion of his term by Jonathan make any simple calculation of regional entitlement more complicated.

Should we, therefore, count the entire period since 1999, or should we treat Buhari’s eight years as the beginning of a new political cycle that the South must now complete? And who determines the rules by which this rotation should be measured?

There is a Hausa saying that goes, “In ka san na faɗa, ba ka san na mayar wa ba,” which roughly means, “You may know what to say, but you cannot predict the response.” This proverb captures the difficulty of the present debate. Every argument invites a counterargument, and every political arrangement creates expectations that others may interpret differently.

But perhaps we are spending too much time debating which region should produce the next president and too little time asking what the next president should actually do for the country. Power rotation has its merits. In a country as diverse as Nigeria, it can help build trust, encourage inclusion, and reassure different parts of the country that they will not be permanently excluded from the highest office. Those are legitimate concerns that should not be dismissed.

However, power rotation is an informal political convention, not a constitutional requirement that bars a qualified Nigerian from contesting the presidency because of where he comes from. More importantly, a convention intended to promote fairness should not become an end in itself, divorced from the quality of leadership it produces. A southern candidate is not automatically competent because the South is entitled to its turn. Neither is a northern candidate automatically disqualified from offering a better alternative because it is not his region’s turn. The question should be whether regional rotation is a guiding principle to be balanced with other considerations or a rule that overrides every other consideration, including the will of the electorate.

The more important question is whether the arguments being advanced can withstand scrutiny independently of the interests of those making them. Would the same people defend the principle of rotation if it worked against their preferred candidate or political allies? Would they insist on it even if voters overwhelmingly preferred a candidate from another region? These are legitimate questions in a political environment where principle and ambition can sometimes be difficult to separate.

Yet the debate should not be reduced to an accusation that everyone advocating rotation has a hidden agenda. Some people sincerely believe that respecting the South’s claim to eight years in office is necessary for national cohesion. Others may believe that opening the contest to candidates from every region offers a better chance of producing competent leadership. Both positions deserve to be examined on their merits. The real issue arises when a principle meant to promote inclusion becomes a means of narrowing democratic choice without a corresponding commitment to good governance.

If democracy is to function as it should, the preferences of political elites must not be allowed to substitute for the will of the people. Parties may establish conventions, negotiate alliances, and consider regional sensitivities, but the ultimate purpose of an election is to allow citizens to choose their leaders. That choice, however, is not made in a political vacuum.

Political elites control party structures, raise campaign funds, negotiate alliances, influence public debate, and often determine which candidates have a realistic chance of competing. They can shape the choices available to voters long before election day. Religious leaders, traditional institutions, business interests, and local political networks can also influence how people understand their interests and exercise their votes.

This is why the debate over 2027 cannot be understood simply as a contest between the masses and the elite. The two are interconnected. Voters may support a candidate backed by powerful politicians because they genuinely believe in that candidate, because they expect material benefits, because of regional or religious loyalties, or because they see no credible alternative.

The challenge is to determine when popular support reflects an independent assessment of a candidate and when it is being shaped by patronage, inducements, misinformation, or the absence of meaningful alternatives.

The Economist recently published an article whose headline captured an important contradiction in Nigerian politics: Nigerians may dislike their president and still re-elect him. That possibility should make us cautious about assuming that widespread dissatisfaction will automatically translate into electoral defeat for the incumbent.

A government can become unpopular without its opponents becoming more credible. Citizens can be frustrated with economic hardship and insecurity while remaining divided over which alternative to support. They can want a change of government but disagree profoundly about the person or party best suited to replace it. This is one of the most important questions facing the opposition in 2027.

For Atiku Abubakar, the challenge is therefore twofold. He must answer those who argue that a northern presidency would violate the spirit of regional rotation, but he must also persuade Nigerians that he offers a credible alternative to the incumbent government. It is not enough to argue that the Constitution permits him to contest or that the historical distribution of power does not justify excluding him. Those arguments establish his right to compete; they do not, by themselves, establish why Nigerians should elect him.

Atiku has criticised the economic consequences of petrol subsidy removal and proposed a different approach that would support domestic refining and make petroleum products more affordable. The proposal raises an important question about how government can reduce the cost of living while encouraging domestic production. But voters are entitled to ask how much such a policy would cost, how it would be funded, how eligibility would be determined, and what safeguards would prevent a return to the opacity and waste associated with the previous subsidy regime.

The same scrutiny should apply to his wider economic programme. What specific measures would he adopt to create jobs, expand electricity supply, improve education and healthcare, and strengthen the purchasing power of ordinary Nigerians? How would he finance these commitments without creating unsustainable fiscal pressures? What would he do differently from the current administration, and how would Nigerians measure the results?

His experience as a former vice-president may count in his favour, as may his familiarity with government and national politics. But experience alone does not guarantee good leadership. His record, proposals, political alliances, and capacity to build a government that serves the public interest should all be open to examination. The same standards must apply to Bola Tinubu and every other presidential contender. Incumbency, regional identity, political experience, and campaign promises should not exempt any candidate from questions about competence, integrity, feasibility, and accountability.

The opposition also faces a practical problem. Even when many Nigerians are dissatisfied with the government, their votes may be divided among several candidates. If opposition parties cannot build effective cooperation, agree on a credible programme, and mobilise voters across regional boundaries, the incumbent may benefit from their fragmentation.

A successful electoral challenge requires more than public anger. It requires an alternative that voters can understand and trust, an organisation capable of reaching them, and a strategy that converts dissatisfaction into votes. It also requires credible commitments on electoral integrity and a willingness by political actors to respect the outcome of a legitimate contest.

This is where the role of the political elite becomes especially important. Their networks and resources can either help create a credible alternative or prevent one from emerging. They can mobilise citizens around public policy, or they can mobilise them around ethnic loyalties, regional grievances, personal ambition, and the distribution of political favours. The question is not whether elites will influence the election. They inevitably will. The question is whether their influence will strengthen democratic competition or undermine it.

Nigeria is not terminally ill, and the defeat of an incumbent president is not without precedent. The country has demonstrated that political power can change hands through elections. Yet the political terrain in 2027 presents its own difficulties. Economic hardship and public dissatisfaction may create an opportunity for the opposition, but opportunity is not the same as victory. A divided opposition, an incumbent with extensive political networks, and a campaign dominated by arguments over regional entitlement could all prevent voters from focusing on the substantive issues that matter most to their lives.

Meanwhile, ordinary Nigerians continue to grapple with the cost of food. As Sule Lamido wrote in his book Being True to Myself: “On the economy, whatever the government may say, to the ordinary man, the health of the economy is the measure of ingredients in his cooking pot.” For many families, this and other concerns are more immediate than whether the next president comes from the North or the South.

That does not mean questions of regional fairness are irrelevant. It means they should be considered alongside the practical demands of governing a country in which millions of people are asking for security, opportunity, affordable living, and a government that responds to their needs. Ultimately, the legitimacy of a president cannot rest on regional entitlement alone. It must also rest on the quality of leadership, the credibility of the mandate, and the ability to deliver results.

As the 2027 election approaches, the political elite will come bearing their alliances, influence, inducements, and promises. Some will appeal to fairness and national unity; others will invoke experience, competence, or the need for change. Some will mobilise voters through established political networks, while others will seek to build new coalitions around public dissatisfaction.

The question is whether Nigerians will have credible alternatives and sufficient freedom to judge these competing claims on their merits. Will they be able to distinguish promises from realistic programmes, political patronage from public service, and regional entitlement from genuine capacity to govern? Will they vote according to their assessment of the country’s needs, or will the choices available to them once again be shaped primarily by the preferences and interests of the political elite?

Perhaps the more fundamental question is this: when Nigerians go to the polls in 2027, will they possess the information, credible alternatives, political organisation, and freedom necessary to translate their preferences into an electoral outcome that reflects their collective interests?

That is the real test of Nigeria’s democracy. Not simply whether power rotates between the North and the South, or whether a particular candidate succeeds in his presidential ambition, but whether the people can meaningfully influence who governs them and hold that person accountable for what follows.

Usman M. Shehu writes from Kano State, Nigeria, and can be reached via usmanmujtabashehu@gmail.com.

By Emy Okpara

Across the length and breadth of Nigeria, there’s a foreboding that pervades. It is palpable and tense. Instigated by a new culture of intimidation that reminds one of the Gestapo. The average Nigerian citizen has been chiselled into silence in a way never before seen!. What’s even more worrisome is the fact that this has become the norm across the board. Since Nigeria returned to democracy in 1999, the average Nigerian citizen has never faced this level of intimidation from both the government and fellow citizens. 

Interestingly, this new wave of intimidation of citizens has continued to gain traction in recent times. Not only are citizens locked up for demanding accountability from the government; individual citizens have formed the habit of intimidating fellow citizens! The case of Mrs Love Dooshima, who was recently arrested and detained by the police on the orders of the CEO of Bon Bread, comes to mind. For reviewing a storybook for primary school children, a young mother of two was also arrested by the author. With state institutions now willing to be abused by the highest bidders, citizens live in constant fear and trepidation. 

In the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, a visually impaired student who complained about the deplorable state of the hostel facilities attracted the ire of the school management. They swiftly swung into action, not to address his concerns but to eject him from the hostel facility! Sadly, all this happened while fellow students looked on, a testament to the fact that Nigerians are gradually losing their ability to fight back. In the past, such actions against a student would have been met with stiff resistance. 

On March 26, 2026, Winnie Miller was allegedly assaulted by the local government chairman of the Ahoada West local government area of Rivers State for posting the dilapidated state of a school in her community. Examples like this have become commonplace in Nigeria, and we cannot list them all. 

The times are perilous in Nigeria, and as a concerned citizen, it has become expedient to ask: for how long will this suppression of the people’s rights to freedom of speech continue? More often than not, government institutions like the police and the army have become willing tools in the hands of the oppressors. By all indications, these institutions now pledge loyalty to individual officeholders rather than serving the public interest. 

In April 2026, Nigerians witnessed two disturbing incidents: the first was the gruesome murder of Oghenemine Ogidi in broad daylight by men of the Nigerian police force in Delta State. Human rights activist Justice Mark Chidibiere (Justicecrack) was abducted for daring to amplify the voices of men of the Nigerian army who cried out for better welfare. It took the timely intervention of well-meaning Nigerians and civil society for the Nigerian military to release him after 48 hours! 

There is a well-calculated attempt to beat the average Nigerian into submission. Unfortunately, this new trend is being enabled by the judiciary’s tacit permission. It is now common practice to hear frivolous judgments without justice from the very institution meant to uphold justice! Our legal practitioners have sold their conscience for a morsel of porridge! Judges now scramble to run errands for politicians, all in exchange for choice houses.

Nigeria, a supposed democratic nation, now operates without the tenets of the rule of law. Hundreds of Nigerian citizens are languishing in Nigerian prisons owing to the filibustering antics of the judiciary. Justice is no longer the hope of the commoner but the exclusive preserve of the high and mighty. The constitution, which is supposed to be the grundnorm, no longer holds supremacy. 

It is indeed sad that we are gradually building a society where feedback is no longer tolerated. Why should diversity of opinion become a crime? How did we get here? More worrisome is the fact that while law-abiding citizens are constantly being harassed and intimidated, criminal elements are left to roam freely. 

A situation where institutions of the state funded by the taxpayers become an instrument of oppression against the citizens they are supposed to protect is a recipe for disaster. Nigeria is sitting on the precipice if this is allowed to continue. On no account should citizens be subjected to torture for seeing things differently. In a democracy, freedom of expression is a fundamental human right which every citizen must enjoy. The fact that most Nigerians are now made to live in fear violates that constitutional right.

Nigerians must understand what the goal of the political class is: silence opposing voices through fear and intimidation to establish their dynasties! It is not by accident that most of their wards are now contesting for political offices. Only our silence can enthrone their dominance, and after serving the fathers, we will serve their children! It is in our collective best interest to keep raising our voices against oppressive tendencies. We cannot afford to be silent at moments like this because we will have an eternity of silence when we pass on. 

On the other hand, those in positions of authority must realise that power is transient and that they hold these offices in trust for the people. This tradition of intimidation will not persist for long because the power of the people is far greater than the power of those in office. Nigeria is a constitutional democracy, and it is still well within the rights of individual citizens to speak against unfavourable government policies without fear or favour. 

As citizens, we must remain resolute and steadfast; refuse to be silenced! We must use our voices and numbers to continue demanding accountability from those whom we have placed in positions of authority. Our strength lies in our numbers. No government can be more powerful than the people it is meant to serve. Therefore, we must continue to stand together as one in demanding a Nigeria that works for all.

Emy Okpara wrote via emyokparaoo1@gmail.com.

By Ugochukwu Ugwuanyi

Full disclosure: I had the song “Strong Ting” by Banky W on auto-repeat in my music playlist while in the world. Be that as it may, that’s by the way!

“…But David encouraged himself in the Lord his God.”

Nigerian singer and filmmaker Bankole Wellington, better known as Banky W, relived this aspect of 1 Samuel 30:6 after losing his bid for the Eti-Osa Federal Constituency seat in the House of Representatives during the 2023 general election. Finding courage in the Lord like David did when distraught and threatened, Banky found clarity amidst the maze and melancholy.

We will get to this momentarily, but not before ridding the elephant in the room. That would be the streets and cynics taunting: “Who send am go run for election?” or something like, “Couldn’t he have seen that the odds were stacked against him?” If his instincts couldn’t, how about his spiritual discernment as a man of God? The comment section also has others asking why he’s giving up so easily by not trying “his luck again” or worming his way into the good graces of the prevailing political establishment.

Politicians, particularly of the Nigerian stock, are Pollyannaish in nature. In fact, it seems a major qualification to be a politician in Nigeria is an overbloated sense of one’s worth or extreme optimism. They hardly give up on their ambitions. Banky W not being on the ballot in this round of elections affirms his epiphany or Road to Damascus experience.

In a post on his Instagram page this Thursday, @bankywellington wrote, “In 2023 I lost an election. And while the experience inspired me in many ways, it also broke my heart into a million little pieces. When the dust settled, I took those pieces back to God. And I surrendered.” We commend him for turning to God like David did when he seemingly lost it all. How great is the Lord to have successfully mended a heart shattered into a million fragments! This is why, upon life’s billows, people should run to, not away from Him. Perhaps those jostling for political positions in Nigeria’s 2027 election will, by Banky’s testimony, learn how to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat when the chips are down.

It is in the character of many to pick a quarrel with God when things don’t work out as planned. Such persons should heed the admonition of the tried and triumphant Job by acquainting themselves with God, and be at peace: so that good can come unto them (Job 22:21). If only the aggrieved had a sense of the big picture, they would see that the good Lord has not called the seed of Jacob to seek Him in vain. Even when you have acted in spite, or volitionally, the loving Father’s penchant for turning a mess into a message makes Him to bestow on you “a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair” (Isaiah 61:3).

Banky W is definitely better off currently than he would have been holding a political office. That’s probably why he is out of the 2027 polls. This isn’t about him working as a teacher and leader at Union College in the United States, but about what his koinonia with the Holy Spirit can bring. We congratulate the music label boss, who significantly propelled the career of Grammy-grabbing Wizkid as the EME honcho, for being able to expressly hear from the Lord and align with the Almighty’s will for his life. Hear him again: “One year later, I’m reminded that sometimes what feels like the end of your story is really just God turning the page. The election didn’t go the way I hoped. But God’s plans for my life are bigger than the plans I had for myself.”

We can now see that all things work for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. If not for his loss at the polls, Banky wouldn’t have come to a better and beneficial understanding of God. This brings us back to whether he didn’t get Heaven’s green light before initially throwing his hat in the ring. That could also have been God’s means of helping the prodigiously talented celebrity actualise destiny. Notice that while acknowledging God’s expansion of his assignments, he didn’t list politics. As it were, not even the “P” in his P.Banks moniker was cited as representing “politician.” “I used to joke that the ‘P’ in P.Banks stood for Professor, not Pastor. I guess God heard and said, ‘Why not both?’” he wrote. It pays greatly to know and follow the divine will for one’s life.

The consciousness of God in your corner would never allow you to turn the curveball life throws at you into an own goal. But this requires subjecting your will to His on every matter. That word “surrendered,” as used by the former secular singer, is basically what is needed. So many people have missed it in life and destiny because they couldn’t yield. We advisedly used “couldn’t” since some people are eager to be led but don’t know how. Come to think of it, how can someone not desire being led by the Lord? The fact that politicians are no longer making a singsong of “follow who know road” in this electioneering season doesn’t mean that the street wisdom is no longer valid. How much more the privilege of having to follow the Road (no pun intended – John 14:6).

King David absolutely knew what he was talking about when he declared in Psalm 23, “The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.” The ensuing verses list other amazing benefits. God rewards those who diligently seek Him. Graciously, He is not hard to find. Verses in the Old and New Testaments affirm this much. Jeremiah 29:13: “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” Matthew 7:7: “Ask and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.” In reality, He is the one actually doing the seeking. This is why He said in Revelation 3:20, “Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.”

Nonetheless, without bothering ourselves with the semantic symmetry between seeking and following God, the Good News is that both spiritual endeavours are enabled by the same manual – the Bible. You seek and know God by studying and meditating on His Word. For sure, there are Sons who can hear God directly and clearly; they all started from somewhere – a hunger for the Word of God. You’ve got to begin from the known to the unknown. In the main, be sure not to dissent as you discern!

VIS Ugochukwu is a sage, storyteller, and branding specialist who welcomes feedback at nmiringwu@gmail.com.