Opinion

Accelerating Kano’s Future Through Technology and Innovation

Your Excellency, 

I write to you with profound optimism about the transformative potential of technology and innovation to position Kano State as a beacon of progress in Nigeria and beyond. As Africa’s youth population surges, Kano, rich in culture, commerce, and human capital, is uniquely poised to harness this demographic dividend by embracing technology as a catalyst for economic growth, social equity, and sustainable development.  

Your Excellency, I recognise and commend your commendable efforts and those of the Kano State Ministry of Science, Technology, and Innovation, under the visionary leadership of the Honourable Commissioner, in laying the groundwork for transformative projects already in the pipeline. The recent establishment of the Kano State Information Technology Development Agency (KASITDA) is a particularly strategic leap forward, signalling the state’s resolve to institutionalise tech-driven growth. These efforts are a critical foundation, and I urge sustained momentum to ensure their timely execution. 

The recommendations outlined herein aim to complement and accelerate these existing plans, providing additional frameworks to attract global partnerships, amplify local talent, and unlock scalable opportunities. By building upon the Ministry’s initiatives and KASITDA’s mandate, Kano can fast-track its rise as a regional leader in technology-driven development.  

Why Technology Matters

Technology is not merely a tool but a foundation for modernisation. It drives efficiency, creates jobs, and bridges gaps in education, healthcare, governance and more. For Kano, where over 60% of the population is under 25, investing in tech equips our youth with skills to compete globally while addressing local challenges like unemployment, agricultural productivity, and access to public services.  

Globally, nations such as Rwanda and India have demonstrated that prioritising tech ecosystems can spur prosperity. Closer home, Lagos’s emergence as a start-up hub highlights the power of deliberate policy and infrastructure. Kano, with its strategic location, historical significance, and entrepreneurial spirit, can surpass these models by tailoring solutions to our unique context.  

A Blueprint for Transformation

To unlock this potential, I propose the following actionable initiatives:  

1. Establish Kano Tech City

Create a dedicated innovation district with co-working spaces, labs, and incubation hubs. Partner with organisations like Google, Alison – Free Empowerment Platform, Microsoft Africa, Altmentor and more to offer training, mentorship, and funding access. This ecosystem will nurture startups in EdTech, AgriTech, FinTech, HealthTech, etc, sectors critical to Kano’s economy.  

2. Revolutionise Education

Integrate digital skills into school curricula. Launch “Kano Code Clubs” and sponsor scholarships for students pursuing careers in STEM fields. Collaborate with Universities to offer advanced degrees in emerging technologies, ensuring a pipeline of skilled talent.  

3. Upgrade Infrastructure

Prioritise broadband expansion, especially in rural areas, and deploy solar-powered tech centres to overcome energy challenges. Reliable internet and electricity are non-negotiable for attracting global investors.  

4. Enact Innovation-Friendly Policies

Offer tax breaks for tech start-ups, streamline business registration, and establish a regulatory sandbox for testing solutions. Launch a Kano Innovation Fund to provide grants and venture capital. Some Innovation-Friendly Policies are outlined below;

-Tax Incentives & Financial Support

• 5-Year Tax Holiday: Exempt early-stage start-ups (0–3 years) from corporate income tax, PAYE, and land use charges. 
• Investor Tax Exemptions: Offer 100% capital gains tax relief for investments in Kano-based tech start-ups. 
• R&D Grants: Fund 50% of R&D costs for startups in priority sectors (AgriTech, EduTech, renewable energy).
• Kano Equity Fund: Establish a state-backed venture capital fund to co-invest in high-potential startups, matching private investments 1:1.  

-Ease of Doing Business

• 24-Hour Start-up Licensing: Create a dedicated tech desk at the Kano Investment Agency to fast-track business registration, licenses, and permits. 
• Regulatory Sandbox: Allow start-ups in FinTech, HealthTech, and mobility to test products for 12 months without full regulatory compliance. 
• Land Grants: Allocate subsidised land in Kano Tech City to start-ups and investors who commit to hiring at least 60% local talent.

-Talent & Immigration

• Tech Talent Visa: Partner with the Federal Government to expedite visas for foreign founders, engineers, and investors relocating to Kano. 
• Residency Rebates: Offer 50% discount on residency fees for startups that train and hire 100+ Kano youths annually.  

-Market Access & Growth

• Government Procurement Quota: Mandate 20% of state procurement contracts (e.g., e-governance tools, agri-supply chains) to be awarded to local tech startups.
• Export Incentives: Subsidise Saas (Software-as-a-Service) startups to scale across Africa by covering 30% of their cross-border marketing costs.  

-Investor Confidence & Exit Opportunities

• Investor Matchmaking: Host quarterly pitch sessions connecting startups with angels and global VC networks.
• Acquisition Support: Legal and financial advisory subsidies for startups exiting to foreign or local acquirers.  

-Sector-Specific Boosts

• AgriTech Subsidies: Free state-owned farmland for AgriTech startups piloting IoT-enabled irrigation or crop-monitoring drones.
• AI Ethics Framework: Develop Nigeria’s first state-level AI governance guidelines to attract ethical tech firms and global grants.  

-Long-Term Stability

• 10-Year Policy Guarantee: Legislate a “Kano Innovation Charter” to lock in incentives beyond political cycles, ensuring investor confidence. 
• Kano Tech Ambassadors: Appoint youth innovators as global ambassadors to showcase success stories in international media.  

5. Host Annual Tech Conferences

Showcase Kano’s potential through events like “Kano Innovates,” attracting investors, entrepreneurs, and thinkers. Celebrate local success stories to inspire a culture of innovation.  

Attracting Investment

A thriving tech ecosystem signals stability and opportunity. By cultivating homegrown talent and infrastructure, Kano will attract investors seeking opportunities in untapped markets. Public-private partnerships can further de-risk investments, while success stories will generate organic interest.  

A Call to Legacy

Your Excellency, this vision demands bold leadership. Imagine a Kano where farmers use drones to monitor their crops, artisans sell their products globally via digital platforms, and students use AI to solve community problems. Championing this agenda will secure Kano’s place as a hub of African innovation, creating jobs, reducing poverty, and inspiring generations.  

The time to act is now. Let us collaborate with stakeholders, businesses, educators, and youth to build a Kano that leads, not follows.  

Abubakar Sadiq Umar writes from Kano and can be reached via email at aserdeeq@gmail.com

by Salim Yunusa

In Zaria, the name Danraka means different things to different people. To students of Ahmadu Bello University, it reminds them of a well-known student housing area off campus. To businesspeople, it represents a strong legacy in commerce. For many in Zazzau, it speaks of a house of nobility and respect. But to countless others, it brings to mind one person—Isyaku Danraka, a town planner, businessman, and a man known for his kindness and generosity.

The iDANRAKA Care Foundation is changing how we think about giving. It is not just about donations or handouts – the usual long queues and few kobos to get the town talking. It is about creating real and lasting change in people’s lives. Whether through helping young people learn new skills, supporting sports, or providing training for the future, the foundation is giving hope to those who need it most. Danraka has quietly been given to students, widows, young people, and others in need for years. Today, his good work has grown into a full foundation that has helped more than 5,000 people.

One of the foundation’s early efforts was the ZYA Phone Repair Project. It trained 150 young people from Zaria and nearby towns in just two months. These young people now have a way to earn a living and help their families. It gave them confidence and a new sense of purpose.

In another inspiring program, 50 young people were chosen from over 800 applicants for a special digital training. They learned to use digital tools, create content, understand artificial intelligence, and find remote jobs. These are life-changing skills that open new doors and build a better future.

The foundation also focuses on those who are often forgotten. People with disabilities are frequently left out of opportunities, but not here. Through the Zaria Para Sports Competition, more than 100 athletes living with disabilities got the chance to play, compete, and be celebrated. These events bring smiles, joy, and a deep sense of belonging. They remind us that everyone matters and deserves a chance to shine.

At the iDANRAKA Football Academy, young boys who dream of playing football professionally are given a real shot. With help from an American agency, scouts from the United States and Dubai came to watch talented players from places like Kano, Maiduguri, and Zaria. For many of these boys, it was their first real chance to be seen and noticed. You could feel the excitement in the air. Dreams suddenly felt possible. I was personally there and witnessed the signing of the MoU. The foundation means business.

Young people are at the heart of everything the foundation does. One of its most powerful programs is the Youth Empowerment Lab. Open to people between 17 and 30 years old, it offers more than just training. It offers hope. It teaches digital skills and shows how to find work online. The foundation even covers transport, meals, internet access, and gives out certificates. I was lucky to speak on a panel during one of the sessions, where we talked about what truly matters in the workplace today. We spoke about creativity, problem-solving, and how real-life experience can be just as important as a university degree. The room was filled with energy and emotion. You could see young people beginning to believe in themselves.

The Zaria Para Sports Competition is now more than a sports event. It is a celebration. Winners receive cash and gifts, but what they take home most is pride. They are seen, respected, and encouraged. These moments lift not just the athletes but their families and communities, too.

In a world where help sometimes feels far away, the iDANRAKA Care Foundation is different. It listens. It understands what people need. It works closely with local communities and offers support that genuinely changes lives. Whether it is a skill to start a small business, a way to earn money online, or a chance to play football, the foundation is lighting the way forward.

The iDANRAKA Care Foundation is not just making a difference. It is spreading hope. From the streets of Zaria to towns across Nigeria, it shows us that when people are given the tools, support, and love they need, there is no limit to what they can achieve.

By Prof. Abdelghaffar Amoka

Breaking news yesterday was that Consultant Psychiatrist Comrade Chris Piwuna has been elected as the new president of the Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU) for a two-year term. The fact that he is a psychiatrist is unsettling to the political class, who, rather than injecting the necessary funds to improve our education sector, choose to embezzle money they do not need.

The post on the Facebook page of Mahmud Jega, a media aide to President Bola Ahmed Tinubu during the campaign for the 2023 election, is an indication that the news of the newly elected president is unsettling. He said Chris should examine the heads of ASUU members for choosing a strike as an option to make the government perform its responsibility to the university they willingly established and are still establishing. Earlier today, someone was thanking his Senator on Facebook for his bill to establish the Federal University of Agriculture, Kura in Kano State. 

Whose head needs to be checked by a psychiatrist? The one fighting for the survival of public universities or the one who makes all the promises, then gets to the office, but chooses to steal public funds, an amount they can’t spend for the rest of their life. In the 21st century, we have one of the worst education and health sectors. Our people now travel to Ghana, as well as to Niger and Sudan, to study. Hunger is now a pride. One of them recently acknowledged that they are aware we are hungry and referred to it as “Hunger for Change.”

Who should we take to Prof. Piwuna’s psychiatric clinic for a mental health evaluation? As people wonder about the cause of the massive and mindless corruption in the country, as we watch public institutions collapse, they feel that corruption within the political class may be a mental issue. According to Punch of 16th December 2016, the first person who made this recommendation over 30 years ago was Prof. Adeoye Lambo, a famous psychiatrist and a former Vice-Chairman of the World Health Organisation. He was astounded by the level of corruption at the time. 

Well, the corruption was child’s play then compared with what we have now. Mrs. Farida Waziri, the former EFCC boss, was reported to have also recommended psychiatric examination for politicians, citing the reason that the grand corruption we see in our public life is a hackneyed recommendation. So, the psychiatric test recommendation for politicians is not a new call. 

Despite the justification for the strike over the last two years and the members’ vote in a referendum, the ASUU leadership has attempted to apply diplomacy to avoid the strike. That has produced a strike-free 2 years. They have been lobbying and begging for the last 2 years. But what have academics got? Many people can’t afford to fuel their cars to go to work. So, what’s the alternative to the strike? Maybe instead of striking to force the government to fund tertiary institutions they willingly established, we should just manage what we have like that till they are no longer manageable, like our public primary schools? Please educate us on a practical alternative to strike. 

The Nigerian university system was once a beacon in West Africa. If corruption is the reason why there are not enough funds to make our universities what they used to be, who needs to queue in their Agbada to see a psychiatrist? The people (political class) who have kept the universities in their present state, or the people (ASUU) whose fight over the years gave our universities a semblance of a university? 

Irrespective of our political affiliation, I think we need to set our sentiment and hatred for ASUU aside and sit back to reflect on the state of education. As a former academic, journalist, and associate of the political class, Mahmud Jega should join hands with ASUU to urge the government to take the necessary steps for the education sector. The North is the worst hit, and coincidentally, Mahmoud Jega is from the North. We need public education institutions at all levels that are of high quality for their students. As the immediate past president of ASUU stated during the ASUU NDC in Benin a few days ago, we cannot build a knowledge-based economy without a sound education system.

We can’t continue this way. The status quo is unsustainable. The most powerful weapon against poverty, extremism, and ignorance is not the bullet, but the book. The time to act is now. Nigeria must return to the classroom—rebuild it, empower it, and invest in it—for therein lies the salvation of the nation.

I don’t like strikes, Mahmud Jega doesn’t like strikes, but I was left with no other options aside from a strike. And a strike is the only thing that has kept our universities functional to date. So, can Mahmud propose an alternative that will work even better than a strike? 

The test I think we need to do for ASUU members is to find out why they are fighting very hard to ensure that public universities do not collapse. They could have chosen to be like our refinery workers who watch the collapse of the refineries and earn a fat salary without refining a drop of crude oil. 

In conclusion, no matter the hatred, Mahmud Jega cannot pretend that he does not understand the situation of our educational institutions. I would like to encourage him to utilise his influence and pen to help facilitate an education summit by this government. As Prof Attahiru Jega proposed at ASUU NDC at the University of Benin a few days ago, the stakeholders of the Nigerian project need to meet and discuss the sort of tertiary education system they want and then agree on the funding model. 

Prof. Amoka wrote from Ahmadu Bello University (ABU), Zaria.

By Zayyad I. Muhammad 

Before the emergence of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s administration, Nigeria’s security architecture was grappling with deeply entrenched challenges, particularly in the Northwest and Southeast regions. The situation had deteriorated to alarming levels, with criminal elements and secessionist movements establishing a disturbing level of control in certain areas.

In the Northwest, banditry had evolved from sporadic attacks to the full-scale occupation of territories. Vast stretches of land, especially in states like Kaduna, Zamfara, and Niger, fell under the influence of heavily armed groups. The Abuja-Kaduna highway, which was once a vital economic and commuter route, became a perilous stretch, notorious for frequent kidnappings and ambushes. 

The Northwestern security threats extended further, with the Kaduna–Birnin Gwari–Lagos road effectively shut down due to sustained bandit activity. Even commercial life suffered significantly; the Birnin Gwari cattle market, a major hub for livestock trade, was forced to cease operations under the pressure of violence and extortion.

Meanwhile, in the Southeast, the situation was compounded by the secessionist agitation led by the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB). Through fear and coercion, IPOB succeeded in enforcing a weekly sit-at-home directive across several states in the region, paralysing economic activities every Monday. Businesses were shuttered, schools closed, and the freedom of movement was severely curtailed, undermining both governance and development efforts.

This was the grim reality that the Tinubu administration inherited. However, at the heart of the renewed fight against insecurity stands a strategic recalibration: what many now refer to as the “Nuhu Ribadu Formula.” As National Security Adviser, Ribadu brought a fresh, intelligence-driven approach to tackling Nigeria’s security woes. With an emphasis on coordination among security agencies, restoration of public confidence, and targeted offensives against criminal enclaves, his methods have begun yielding tangible results.

While challenges persist, especially in remote and hard-to-reach areas, the difference in tone and trajectory is becoming increasingly evident. The Ribadu-led security strategy has not only focused on reclaiming territory but also on addressing the root causes of unrest, be it poverty, weak governance, or community grievances. It is this multidimensional and proactive approach that may well define Nigeria’s path to lasting peace and stability.

Mallam Nuhu Ribadu, the National Security Adviser, has been pivotal in reshaping Nigeria’s national security framework through a clear and strategic vision built on three foundational pillars.

The first is the carrot-and-stick approach, which balances kinetic (military force) and non-kinetic (dialogue, reconciliation, and development) strategies. This dual-pronged approach acknowledges that not all security threats can be addressed solely through force. By combining targeted military operations with community engagement and deradicalisation efforts, the approach aims to neutralise threats while addressing the root causes of violence.

The second strategy is a shift from rhetoric to action, a deliberate move away from endless briefings and political grandstanding towards concrete, measurable outcomes. Under Ribadu’s watch, security interventions are now judged not by promises, but by performance. The focus is on restoring peace, reclaiming lost territories, and enabling displaced persons to return to their communities.

Third is the promotion of synergy and intelligence sharing among security agencies. Previously plagued by inter-agency rivalry and fragmented operations, Nigeria’s security forces are now operating with improved coordination. Through unified command structures and shared intelligence platforms, responses have become faster, more precise, and increasingly proactive.

These strategies have already begun to yield visible results. The recent resurgence of attacks in Plateau and Benue States, as well as isolated Boko Haram assaults on soft targets in Borno and Adamawa, were swiftly countered using the same framework. Rapid deployment of forces, community-based intelligence, and coordinated operations prevented escalation and restored calm.

Still, the road to full recovery is a gradual one. While the machinery of state security has been retooled, the average citizen may not immediately perceive these gains. Part of the challenge lies in the persistence of outdated or unverified reports in some sections of the media, which can paint a distorted picture of the current realities. Nevertheless, those on the ground, especially in previously hard-hit areas, are beginning to sense a shift.

The “Nuhu Ribadu Formula” is proving to be more than just a tactical adjustment; it is an evolving doctrine that prioritises effectiveness, accountability, and collaboration. With sustained implementation and public support, it could well become the blueprint for enduring peace in Nigeria.

Zayyad I. Muhammad writes from Abuja, zaymohd@yahoo.com.

By Isah Dahiru

There’s a Hausa proverb that says, “Wanda ya saci akuya, ya saci itacenta”—he who steals a goat has already stolen the rope tied to it. But who would have imagined that the sacred grounds of a mosque, a space where hearts are purified and souls are recharged, could become fertile ground for what I now call “holy heists”?

Last Friday, I attended Jumu’ah prayers like any regular seeker of divine mercy, looking forward to the serenity of the sermon and perhaps a gentle breeze under the neem tree afterwards. You know, that kind of spiritual therapy that reboots your inner battery. 

The Imam began passionately, with what I can only describe as a verbal balm for troubled marriages. He waxed poetic about marital life, reminding us brothers that a man’s greatness is not measured by how many goats he owns, but how gently he treats the mother of his children.

He quoted the Prophet (SAW), emphasising kindness, loyalty, and romance—even after ten years of eating her over-salted tuwo. He reminded us that he who denies affection at home may end up seeking counsel from side mirrors—and by side mirrors, I mean side chicks. It was a sermon of gold, and I had already drafted a mental apology letter to my wife (with a footnote asking for fried fish for dinner).

Then came the second khutbah—and brothers and sisters, the tone changed like NEPA light.

What followed was no longer spiritual nourishment—it was a full-blown security bulletin. The Imam, now resembling a mosque-based CNN anchor, solemnly announced the spike in theft within the mosque premises. Shoes, phones, even umbrellas—yes, umbrellas in dry season—had become an endangered species in the hands of holy day hustlers.

I blinked twice. “Wallahi, this must be fiction.”

Apparently not. The Imam cited examples. Men who had arrived barefoot left in polished Clarks. Samsung devices evaporated during sujud. One man reportedly came out of the toilet to find that not only had his shoes vanished, but so had his ablution kettle. “An saci butar alwala!” someone muttered beside me.

My friend Musa Kalim, ever the idea machine, leaned in and whispered, “Wallahi Isah, the mosque should invest in designer shoes with trackers inside. Give them out before prayer. Anyone who deviates from coming to mosque without shoes to going home with a shoe—bing! The alarm goes off. ‘Thou shalt not misstep.’”

Another friend, Engr. After I narrated the ordeal and my frustration to him, Aminu offered another way to tackle the situation. Honestly, I laughed so hard I almost missed the supplication after the prayer had ended. But knowing that Aminu wasn’t joking made me return to my senses. This is the same man who once suggested using goats to deliver medicine in rural villages, and almost got a grant for it from Melinda and Gates Foundation.

I imagined it immediately:
“Mosque Sole Security (MSS): Track Your Blessings from Sole to Soul.”
A startup powered by shame and GPS.

But there’s a deeper sadness here. When the masallaci, the house of Allah, becomes the hunting ground for pickpockets, it signals a spiritual recession. It’s no longer just a pair of stolen shoes—it’s a metaphor for the theft of morals, the robbery of conscience, and the hijacking of trust.

There’s a popular Yoruba saying, “Ti ile ba n bajẹ, a fi ti ile ni nko,” meaning, “When a home begins to decay, it starts from the inside.” And truly, if criminals now comfortably perform ablution before proceeding to commit theft, then we must urgently recalibrate our moral compass.

Let’s consider the ridiculousness: someone prays beside you, says “Ameen” with gusto, maybe even sheds a tear during supplication—and minutes later, he’s making off with your Bata sandals like a post-prayer souvenir. What kind of shame is that?

The Prophet (SAW) warned us of a time when people would pray like angels and live like devils. Perhaps this is what he meant.

Maybe the solution isn’t just CCTV or Musa’s high-tech slippers (although I’d donate to that GoFundMe). Perhaps we need something more profound—a revival of taqwa, of God-consciousness, in our lives. Because let’s be honest, even if we padlock the ablution area, thieves without fear of God will find a way to sin in style.

Perhaps we need to return to the basics—teaching our children that a stolen shoe, even if it fits, carries the burden of its last prayer. Reminding our youth that every crime committed under the minaret echoes louder in the heavens than those committed in the market square. And as elders, we must not be afraid to call out wrongdoing—even if the culprit looks like a saint in a turban.

Until then, dear reader, as you go for prayers, carry your faith boldly—but your shoes discreetly. I suggest you start wearing bathroom slippers, the type no thief would proudly wear. And if, by misfortune, you find yourself shoeless at the end of the prayer, don’t wail. Just smile and say: “May the thief walk straight into the path of repentance—and a pothole.”

And should you ever catch one red-handed, don’t beat him. Sit him down, offer him zobo and a hard chair, and give him a khutbah so fiery, even his ancestors would consider refunding your shoes.

Isah Dahiru is a pharmacist and can be reached via easerdahiru@gmail.com.

By Nasiru Ibrahim

In Nigeria, government policies to improve the economy often fail to serve the broader population. Instead of addressing systemic issues, these policies often become tools for political favouritism, corruption, and inefficiency, benefiting only a few. This results in greater inequality, inefficiency, and social unrest, leaving millions of Nigerians struggling.

The critical question is: Are these economic problems not necessarily created by private organisations enough to justify applying the Keynesian model in developing countries like Nigeria?

We need to examine Nigeria’s economic realities in light of Keynesian theory to answer this. While the theory suggests that government intervention can correct market failures and stimulate growth, such interventions often exacerbate the problems they aim to solve in Nigeria. By comparing Nigeria’s situation to Keynes’s assumptions, we can determine whether government intervention is more of a curse than a blessing.

Keynesian Economics and Nigeria’s Reality

Keynesian economics is based on several assumptions: income, employment, output, money supply, and investment. Let’s break down how these assumptions fare in Nigeria’s context:

Money Supply and Interest Rates: Keynes argued that an increase in the money supply reduces interest rates, which should increase investment, income, output, and employment. In theory, this should stimulate economic growth. However, in Nigeria, despite the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) increasing the money supply, interest rates remain high, and inflation continues to rise. This inflationary pressure discourages investment and undermines businesses, many of which struggle to survive.

Effective Demand and Unemployment: Keynes suggested that unemployment is caused by a deficiency in effective demand, which typically occurs during the downward phase of the business cycle. However, Nigeria’s unemployment crisis is not cyclical but structural, stemming from insufficient capital formation and inadequate resources. Even during periods of economic growth, unemployment remains high, revealing deeper systemic issues than those addressed by Keynes’s theory.

Investment and Marginal Efficiency of Capital (MEC): According to Keynes, investment depends on the MEC, which is determined by the expected return on investment. In Nigeria, the MEC and actual investment remain low, primarily due to instability, poor infrastructure, and weak institutions. The lack of investor confidence further hampers growth.

Saving and Consumption: Keynes viewed saving as detrimental to economic growth, as it reduces consumption, which affects income and employment. In advanced economies, excessive saving may reduce demand, but the opposite is true in Nigeria. Saving is necessary for capital formation, yet savings rates are already low. Nigerians spend more than 80% of their income on consumption, limiting capital available for productive investment.

The Role of Foreign Trade: Keynes’s model was based on a three-sector economy (households, firms, and government), while Nigeria operates a four-sector economy, with foreign trade playing a significant role. Imports and exports, especially of crude oil, heavily influence national income and economic performance. However, Nigeria’s dependence on imports and volatile oil prices highlights the vulnerability of its economic structure.

Government Intervention: A Curse or a Blessing?

Government intervention can either benefit or harm an economy. However, history suggests that government intervention has primarily been a curse in Nigeria. The country’s interventionist policies have been marred by chronic corruption, policy inconsistency, weak institutions, and political patronage, leading to inefficiency and social harm.

Several examples illustrate the disastrous impact of government policies:

The Anchor Borrowers Programme: In 2023, the CBN admitted that over 76% of the loans disbursed under the Anchor Borrowers Programme had not been repaid. The scheme, designed to support farmers, became riddled with corruption. Many recipients were political loyalists without agricultural expertise, undermining the program’s effectiveness and inflating public debt.

Misuse of Public Funds: In 2020, a leaked memo revealed that over ₦81 billion was paid out through fake contracts to party loyalists, with no actual work being done. This wasted public funds that could have been invested in schools, hospitals, or infrastructure, further deepening the nation’s economic woes.

Ghost Workers in Kogi State: Over 3,000 ghost workers linked to political patronage were discovered on Kogi State’s payroll. These fictitious workers were paid salaries meant for public service, siphoning funds away from essential government services.

Political Patronage in Government Programs: Programs like TraderMoni and SURE-P, initially aimed at alleviating poverty, were instead used to reward political supporters during election periods. In 2019, around ₦10 billion was distributed under TraderMoni, with no clear records of repayment or follow-up, reducing the program’s ability to address real economic problems.

The Power Sector Crisis: Nigeria’s power sector remains in shambles despite spending ₦2 trillion in bailout funds since 2015. Many areas receive less than 8 hours of electricity daily, forcing businesses to rely on expensive generators, which increases their operational costs and deters potential investors.

The 2019–2021 Border Closure: The government closed borders to combat smuggling and encourage local farming. However, this policy led to soaring food prices—rice, for instance, increased from ₦15,000 to over ₦27,000 per 50kg bag. The policy also harmed small traders and businesses, exposing the fragility of Nigeria’s local production capabilities.

The Mismanagement of COVID-19 Funds: During the COVID-19 pandemic, the government allocated over ₦500 billion for palliatives, but many Nigerians, especially in rural areas, saw no relief. In some cases, food items meant for distribution were found rotting in warehouses, while the funds disappeared without adequate documentation.

The Ajaokuta Steel Company: Over $8 billion (approximately ₦12 trillion) has been spent on the Ajaokuta Steel Company since the 1970s, yet the facility remains non-operational. Despite its potential to transform Nigeria’s industrial landscape, it has become a symbol of inefficiency and political exploitation.

Foreign Exchange Crisis: The mismanagement of Nigeria’s foreign exchange policy has led to multiple exchange rates, fueling corruption and economic instability. The naira now trades at over ₦1,600 to the dollar, creating further challenges for businesses and pushing more Nigerians into poverty.

NNPC Report (2022): The Nigerian government spends ₦6 trillion annually on fuel subsidies, which mainly benefit the wealthy and fuel importers. This massive amount could have been used to improve critical sectors like healthcare, education, or infrastructure. Instead, it adds to Nigeria’s debt and fuels inflation, making life harder for ordinary Nigerians and slowing economic growth.

National Social Investment Programme (2021): Programs like the N-Power initiative, which aimed to tackle unemployment, have been poorly managed. Despite billions allocated, only about 5 million people benefited by 2021, and many faced delays in receiving payments. The program failed to meet its objectives, wasting public funds and doing little to address Nigeria’s unemployment crisis.

EFCC Report (2020): Corruption remains rampant. The government loses ₦500 billion annually due to corrupt procurement deals. These misappropriated funds could have been used to improve infrastructure, healthcare, and education, yet they enrich a few, further deepening inequality.

World Health Organisation Report (2021): Despite allocating ₦100 billion annually for healthcare, only 30%  is used for healthcare services. Much of it is lost to corruption or mismanagement, leaving Nigeria’s healthcare system underfunded and unable to meet the population’s needs, which worsens the economy’s overall productivity.

Federal Ministry of Agriculture Report (2021): Over ₦50 billion was meant to support farmers, but due to corruption, most of this money never reached those who needed it. As a result, agricultural productivity remains low, food prices rise, and the country struggles with food insecurity, exacerbating inflation.

Petroleum Industry Bill (2021): Delays in implementing the Petroleum Industry Bill have cost Nigeria ₦2 trillion in potential revenue. Failing to reform the oil sector has discouraged foreign investment, leaving Nigeria more dependent on oil exports and vulnerable to fluctuating global oil prices.

PIB Implementation Report (2021): The government has repeatedly delayed reforms to the petroleum sector, costing Nigeria about ₦2 trillion in lost revenue. This delay has hurt the oil industry and discouraged foreign investment, contributing to economic instability.

The Path Forward: Making Government Intervention Effective

For government intervention to be a true blessing, it must be transparent, effective, and focused on the long-term interests of the nation. Here’s how Nigeria can reverse the curse of misguided interventions:

Tackle Corruption: Hold government officials accountable for misused funds. Ensure that contracts are transparent and traceable.

Boost Local Production: Support farmers, manufacturers, and small businesses with affordable credit, reliable power supply, and the necessary tools to succeed.

Fix the Forex Crisis: Diversify exports, improve domestic production, and establish a unified exchange rate to stabilize the currency.

Create Sustainable Jobs: Focus on creating employment in agriculture, technology, and manufacturing—sectors that offer long-term growth, not temporary handouts during election periods.

Reduce Wasteful Spending: Cut unnecessary expenditures and focus on essential sectors such as healthcare, education, and infrastructure.

Stabilize Policies: Implement long-term economic policies that provide certainty and build trust among businesses and investors.

Strengthen Institutions: Ensure that institutions like the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) and the Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation (NNPC) function efficiently, regardless of political changes.

Invest in Power: Improve the power sector to reduce costs for businesses and encourage investment.

Promote Value-Added Exports: Move beyond raw material exports and focus on producing finished goods that earn Nigeria more revenue on the global market.

Involve the People: Engage citizens in decision-making processes and use data-driven approaches to inform policy.

Conclusion

For Nigeria to thrive, its government must rethink its approach to intervention. Instead of using economic policies as tools of patronage, it should focus on policies that genuinely stimulate growth, reduce inequality, and improve the lives of Nigerians. Only then can government intervention become a true blessing, rather than a curse.

Ibrahim is a graduate of the Department of Economics from Bayero University, Kano, and writes from Jigawa.

By Emeka Blaise Okpera

What is today known as the “Arab Spring” started with the singular action of one man, Mohammed Bouzizi, the young Tunisian fruit seller who set himself ablaze as a result of constant harassment from the authorities. If anyone had told Mohammed Bouazizi that morning, before leaving his house for his daily activities, that his impulsive action would ignite a revolution that would sweep away long-term regimes not just in Tunisia, but also in Libya, Egypt, Algeria, and some other countries in the Middle East, perhaps he would have dismissed it with a smirk or snigger. 

Fortunately and unfortunately, it happened, and no one saw it coming. Such is the nature of revolutions all over the world;they are not planned, but when they happen, no force can stop them until they achieve their desired results. Revolutions are offshoots of long-suppressed or bottled-up anger accumulated over time. It gets to a point where people can no longer take it.

For context, it is instructive to point out that Bouzizi’s self-immolation could not have ignited a revolution. His actions sparked widespread public anger because a vast majority of Tunisians were sick and tired of the regime of the then-ruling family, Ben Ali, who had been in power for over two decades. 

When the people rose in unison, not even Tunisia’s entire military apparatus could stop them. This reminds me of an Igbo adage that says, ” When one man cooks for the public, the public will consume it, but when the public cooks for one man, he cannot consume it.” Would Mohammed Bouzizi’s singular action have ignited the same form of public outrage it did in Tunisia if it had happened in Nigeria?

The answer is no! Many factors can be attributed to this. Firstly, Nigerians are largely divided along ethno-religious lines. This is one of the greatest advantages that political office holders enjoy in Nigeria, and they have learnt to put it to good effect. There is often a sense of communal ownership that compels particular sections of the country to protect their own. 

To the average Nigerian, political leadership is seen from the perspective of turn-by-turn. More often than not, a typical Nigerian has the notion that occupants of political office are in a position to serve the turn of their people. Therefore, they often form a mob to defend him to the last! To such people, it doesn’t matter if a political office holder is living up to the demands of his office. There is a school of thought that believes Nigerians love their oppressors as long as he is one of them! 

What this means is that Nigerians would first have considered the religious or ethnic background of a Mohammed Bouazizi to determine their reaction. Politicians would have reacted swiftly by giving it an ethnic or religious coloration. Tunisians were able to unite against the despotic regime of Zine El Abidine Ben Ali because every Tunisian sees himself as a Tunisian. 

None cared about the ethnicity or religion of Mohammed Bouazizi. In contrast, Nigerians prioritise their ethnic nationality above all else.  Instead of public outrage, Nigerians would have analyzed the situation that led to his actions while exonerating the government. In fact, any protest would have faced a counter-protest against it. This illustrates how unusually complex Nigerians are. A nation where the  people are divided against themselves cannot stand up to any form of oppression. 

Secondly, Nigerians are malleable. The average Nigerian can easily adapt to any situation, no matter how difficult. To say that Nigerians are resilient to the point of docility would be putting it mildly.  When pushed to the wall, a Nigerian doesn’t fight back but easily finds a way to break the wall to negotiate an exit. 

In the past and even recently, we have seen cases of Nigerians jumping into the Lagos lagoon due to economic hardships,yet this has never sparked any public outrage. Not many have fully recovered from the tragic incident of the shootings at the tollgate during the #EndSARS protest. We have experienced many Mohammed Bouazizis whose deaths have merely become fodder for content creators. 

Naturally, Nigerians often don’t take matters of value seriously. It’s typical for the average Nigerian to dwell on issues that have no meaningful impact on their lives while neglecting real-life challenges. Essentially, in Nigeria, it would be unthinkable for an individual’s act of self-immolation to provoke national outrage because such an act would be seen as extraordinary rather than mundane. The outcome of the #EndSARS protest still comes to mind.

Another factor that can be alluded to is ignorance. Nigerians are mostly unaware of their rights as citizens. There is a willful ignorance among Nigerians that enables those in government to get away with anything. This ignorance is present not only among those without formal education but also among highly educated individuals! This lack of awareness is another political capital that political office holders exploit to the disadvantage of citizens. In Nigeria, there is a prevailing belief that the people cannot fight the government and win. This belief is purely borne out of ignorance because the reverse is true – no government can fight the people and win! 

Those who don’t learn from history always repeat it. While it is true that a revolution cannot happen in Nigeria due to some of the factors mentioned above, it is important to note that political office holders should learn from history. Nicolae Ceausescu was the strongman of Romania. He had a monstrous reign from 1967 to 1989, and he thought he had it all covered until there was a spark and the people spoke. His story is a clear testament to the fact that the power in the people is far greater than the people in power. 

What is most important is that Nigeria doesn’t reach the point where violent change becomes justifiable. After all, Tunisians were docile and malleable for 23 years before a Mohammed Bouazizi happened. Political office holders must tread with caution and realize that power is transient. 

Political leadership should be for the common good, not for personal gain. No individual should be carried away by the complacency of office. The people should remain the central focus of governance. As such, leaders must act responsibly at all times. It serves everyone’s interest for both the government and the governed to be on the same path. This is because the task of building a nation is a collective responsibility. 

Blaise Emeka Okpara, a Student of International Institute of Journalism writes from Abuja and can be contacted on: emyokparaoo1@gmail.com.

By Prof. Abdussamad Umar Jibia

Some years ago, a group of students from Kaduna state came to my office, lamenting how Muslim elders imposed a Christian candidate on them and rigged him into power. They even told how an Emir and some elders called Islamic scholars and warned them against remonstration in their preachings. “How can we bear this disgrace?” my students were frustrated.

I said, “You can solve the problem and make governance difficult for the imposed Governor”. The young people paid attention, expecting an “academic” solution to their problem. “The Governor cannot rule Kaduna state alone. Since the majority are against him, why not look for and beat up anyone who accepts his political appointment?” I offered.

My students looked at one another and said, “Sir, there will be chaos and mass arrest”. Poor them, they want to bring change, are not happy with what is happening, and are afraid of arrest. “The alternative is to support the unpopular Governor and struggle for your share of the haram”, I finalised the discussion.

In the case of my Kaduna state students, the problem was election rigging, even though there was relative peace in their state, at least up to that time. In the case of Katsina people, it has been killing, kidnapping, rape, stealing, etc. How have the people reacted to the politicians they elected to solve the problem of insecurity? 

Several people have asked why they no longer see my comments on insecurity, and I always reply that I am busy with other things. I am busy, but not too busy to write a few paragraphs to express my opinion. However, it reached a point where I began to ask, as far as insecurity is concerned, who is the culprit? Whom should I write to blame? The Government? The military? The masses?

Going by the advice I gave Kaduna youth, one would expect that no elected politician would have the guts to go to any community ravaged by insecurity in Katsina or nearby states. Unfortunately, that is not the case. I saw people who lost some of their closest relatives to banditry staunchly supporting a politician, whose actions mean that their losses do not matter. Bandits displaced a community, but I saw their youth on social media actively supporting politicians who were giving public money to bandits in the name of the peace agreement.

If you are actively fighting for those victims through writing or interviews, and you offend any politician, you should be ready to get a good beating from some of the banditry victims if that is what would please the politician.

So, whom should I blame? Do the people take no blame? What of the military? Should I write to blame the masses as weak as they are? Should I write to condemn the military as strongly as they are? Should I not be afraid of arrest like my Kaduna students? If I offend the military, and you must surely offend them if you will tell the truth about insecurity, who would bail me out when I am arrested and tagged a troublemaker or any name they decide to give me?

The cheapest people to blame are the politicians. Everybody is against them. Public money is in their hands, and they are spending it on weddings and musicians, just like we witnessed in Katsina. But are all the people criticising them sincere? Would they not do the same if they were in their position? Some of these things were the reason Nigerians voted PDP out ten years ago, and the “saints” they elected are doing the same.

If you are expecting me to continue directing my blame to politicians, you will be disappointed. While they have their fair share of the blame for insecurity, we also have our share as victims. 

The masses should take my advice to the Kaduna youth if they can. They can only beat the politicians or join them. For the politicians, I have no words. Only the masses can deal with them if they take the first side of my advice. For me, I shall keep mum about the military because I am a coward.

For other Nigerians, continue to enjoy yourselves before insecurity reaches your side. I pray it will not.

Prof Abdussamad Umar Jibia wrote via aujibia@gmail.com.

By Oladoja M.O

In recent years, the word “Japa” has become an emblem of escape, a chant of hope, and sadly, a whistle of despair. Particularly in Nigeria’s healthcare sector, the mass exodus of young, vibrant medical professionals has left our system gasping for air. What we face is not just a brain drain—it’s a heart drain. And in the middle of this haemorrhage lies a controversial bill, once proposed by Honourable Ganiyu Abiodun Johnson, now buried under the backlash of public outrage.

But was the bill completely out of line, or was it simply unfinished thinking?

It is no longer news that Nigeria’s doctor-to-patient ratio falls miserably short of the World Health Organisation’s recommendation. Yet what may not be so widely understood is that the stressful, overburdening conditions often cited as a reason to “Japa” are partly the consequences of those who have already left. One person’s departure makes another’s stay unbearable. The domino effect deepens.

While the most effective and lasting solutions lie in long-term efforts—revamping the economy, tackling insecurity, and fixing systemic rot—we must also admit that time is of the essence. The house is on fire, and we need water now, even if the fire truck is on its way.

There’s this question of “can patriotism be stirred in a broken system?”

Critics often point to a profound lack of patriotism among the youth, and it’s not unfounded. But when young Nigerians have watched corruption erode public trust, when they are owed salaries, and when survival is a struggle, can we honestly ask for blind loyalty? Still, the bitter truth remains: if patriotism isn’t growing naturally in this climate, maybe it needs to be carefully engineered, not through coercion, but through incentivised responsibility. 

The original bill proposed tying Nigerian-trained doctors and dentists to a mandatory five-year practice before granting full licensure. It sparked nationwide uproar, accused of being coercive, discriminatory, and even unconstitutional. The medical council body argued that such a condition could only apply to those whose education was publicly funded. And frankly, they had a point.

However, what if the bill didn’t force, but inspired commitment instead? Clearly, the strategy to curb this heartbreaking issue lies between the government and the various governing councils of these professions. After an extensive and wide brainstorming, it is my opinion that the following recommendations should be weighed and given consideration;

Let the Medical and Dental Council adopt a digital licensing model that is highly secure and tamper-proof, implement a differential licensing fee, where those practising within Nigeria pay subsidised rates (e.g., ₦50,000).

In contrast, those seeking international practice pay a premium (e.g., ₦250,000). Substantial penalties for forgeries should be introduced, ranging from travel bans to long-term suspension from practice. Also, full international licensing should probably be accessible only after 5 – 8 years of verified practice in Nigeria, but with allowances for truly and genuinely exceptional circumstances.

Each Local Government Area (LGA) can be mandated to sponsor at least two candidates annually for critical medical professions, especially medicine and nursing. This would ensure that the selection is need-based and done after national admission lists are released to prevent misuse by those already financially capable. Aside from other ongoing state or philanthropic sponsorships, this alone could inject an extra 1,500–2,000 health professionals yearly into the system.

Beyond the Medical Residency Training Fund (MRTF), the government can introduce provisions for payment of residency program fees, subsidies for first and second fellowship exams, partner with international and local equipment companies to provide cutting-edge residency exposure, and full sponsorship for mandatory travel during training with conditions of local practice attached. More importantly, it should be to the core interest of the government to streamline the bureaucracy around MRTF disbursements to reduce frustration and improve compliance.

For these health professionals committed to staying, the government can introduce affordable credit schemes for cars and home ownership. This strategy speaks not just of comfort but dignity and hope, ensuring these professionals see a future here. A doctor with a home loan and a dependable car is more likely to stay and build a life.

Relatively, in a bid to arrest some unnecessary uproar from various other professions, the government can broaden the application of similar strategies to other key professions facing mass emigration, like pharmacy, engineering, and IT. Let emphasis be on this is a quick-response initiative and not a substitute for long-term development, and also communicate clearly that staying doesn’t mean stagnation but service with reward.

No one can deny that Nigeria’s system is in a broken state, and no young professionals should be intentionally shackled to that broken system. It is also true that patriotism cannot be forced, but it can be nurtured. These professionals can, however, be valued, supported, and invited into a new contract of service, not as slaves to a nation, but as partners in rebuilding her.

Therefore, before we completely dismiss the Hon. Ganiyu Johnson Bill as modern slavery, perhaps we should ask: did it simply lack the right lens? With the right blend of compassion, policy, and investment, could it become a promise and not a prison?

Oladoja M.O writes from Abuja and can be reached at mayokunmark@gmail.com

By Usman Muhammad Salihu,

Northern Nigeria stands at a defining moment in its history. Once the bastion of decisive leadership and cultural resilience, the region is now plagued by a crisis of governance. 

The distinction between “leaders of the North” and “leaders in the North” has never been more pronounced. Leaders of the North carry the burden of the region’s progress on their shoulders, while leaders in the North are mere seat-fillers—occupants of political positions without a true sense of duty.

Unfortunately, today’s reality leans heavily towards the latter. The region is flooded with individuals who wear the titles of governors, senators, ministers, and traditional rulers. Yet, their leadership amounts to little more than self-interest, political survival, and personal ambition. 

The result? Northern Nigeria remains stuck in a cycle of poverty, illiteracy, and insecurity, trailing behind the rest of the country on almost every developmental index.

Banditry, kidnapping, and insurgency have become rampant, turning villages into ghost towns and leaving countless families in mourning. Youth unemployment and economic hopelessness have skyrocketed, while education continues to suffer, with millions of children out of school. 

Rather than prioritising sustainable policies, these leaders dish out empty rhetoric, making grand promises while doing little to uplift the people they claim to serve.

Hunger has become a political tool—wielded not as a crisis to be solved, but as a mechanism of control. Those who once enjoyed three square meals now struggle to afford even one. 

Yet, instead of confronting the root causes of poverty, many politicians prefer the optics of distributing bags of rice. They would rather keep the people hungry and dependent than invest in mechanised agriculture, industrialisation, or skills development. 

A well-fed, independent populace questions leadership. A starving one is easier to manipulate. Beyond economic woes, northern lives have become increasingly devalued, even beyond the region. 

The recent horrific killing of at least 16 northern travellers in Edo State is a chilling reminder of the dangers of mob justice and ethnic profiling. These victims, mostly Hausa hunters heading for Sallah festivities, were mistaken for kidnappers and brutally lynched. 

Their truck was torched, their bodies consumed by fire in a scene reminiscent of a lawless state. Such tragedies expose the colossal failure of leadership at all levels. 

A country with strong institutions and responsible governance would not permit the extrajudicial slaughter of innocent citizens. Figures like former Vice President Atiku Abubakar and activist Omoyele Sowore have rightly condemned the killings, while Edo State Governor, Monday Okpebholo, has ordered investigations. 

But the crucial question remains: Will justice be served? Or will this atrocity, like so many before it, fade into oblivion? Meanwhile, traditional institutions that once provided stability and moral guidance in the North have been hijacked by political interests. 

The reckless creation of new emirates and first-class chiefdoms is no longer about strengthening governance—it is about settling scores, wielding influence, and further fracturing the region.

Northern Nigeria is rich in potential, yet without sincere leadership, it will remain shackled to poverty, insecurity, and stagnation. The people must awaken to their power, demanding accountability and choosing leaders based on competence rather than ethnicity, religion, or political patronage.

A true leader does not throw food at his people; he empowers them to produce their own. He does not buy votes with handouts; he builds an economy where citizens can thrive without begging. 

The North needs statesmen who will champion food security, support industrial growth, and create jobs, not politicians who prey on hunger for electoral gain.

Above all, northern lives must matter—not just to those in power, but to the nation. If the cycle of mob justice and ethnic profiling continues unchecked, Nigeria risks deepening its fractures beyond repair. 

Leadership is not about occupying an office but securing justice, progress, and dignity for all. So, the question lingers: Will Northern Nigeria continue to be ruled by leaders in the North who exploit suffering, or will true leaders emerge to break this cycle of failure? 

The answer lies in the hands of the people.

Usman Muhammad Salihu is a PRNigeria Fellow.