Nigeria has faced crises before and will likely face others again. What matters is how leadership manages transition and how citizens engage in dialogue. If we can confront our economic realities honestly acknowledging both past failures and present struggles then perhaps we can move beyond blame and toward solutions… The goal is not to defend or condemn blindly. The goal is to understand fully, speak honestly, and demand accountability while maintaining perspective
THIS column will be published in two parts, the first part of the column introduces the perspective of a younger generation navigating leadership and governance in Nigeria today. It reflects on the differences between how older Nigerians and younger Nigerians perceive political decisions and policies, and why those differences exist.
This particular column comes as a result of the very interesting and constructive reactions we have received from many of our readers regarding the previous article, cutting across different age groups and even across national boundaries. The feedback has been thoughtful, passionate, and in many cases deeply personal. Some agreed strongly with the earlier position, others challenged it respectfully, and a good number shared experiences that reminded us just how layered and emotional conversations about leadership and the economy can be. That is the beauty of public discourse when people feel concerned enough to respond, to question, and to contribute their own realities.
It is important to make something clear. Raising questions about the previous article does not mean we are ignoring the hardship Nigerians are facing. In fact, it is because of that hardship that this response is necessary. No honest person can pretend that things are easy right now. The cost of food has climbed beyond what many families can comfortably afford. Transport fares have become a daily burden. Rent, school fees, electricity bills everything seems to demand more from incomes that have not increased at the same pace. Inflation is no longer an economic term used on television; it is something felt in the market, at the fuel station, and in the quiet calculations families make at the end of each day. The instability of the naira has affected traders, business owners, importers, and even young Nigerians trying to plan their future. These are not figures on a spreadsheet. They are real pressures shaping real lives. So this conversation is not coming from a place of comfort or detachment. It is coming from the middle of the storm, where ordinary Nigerians are simply trying to stay afloat.
At the same time, acknowledging these hardships should not automatically be interpreted as blind opposition to the measures taken by President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s administration. Nor should an attempt to explain those measures be mistaken for endorsement without empathy. It would also be incomplete to discuss today’s economic strain without mentioning that many of the current challenges especially rising costs and inflationary pressure were intensified by the removal of fuel subsidy. That decision had immediate ripple effects. Transportation costs surged. Production expenses increased. Prices of goods rose sharply. For many families, budgets that were already tight became unbearable. There is no denying that subsidy removal played a significant role in amplifying short-term economic discomfort.
However, in our frustration, we must also resist the temptation to forget too quickly where we were coming from. For decades, Nigeria lived with a recurring fuel crisis. Petrol scarcity was almost seasonal. Long queues at filling stations were a familiar sight, particularly in parts of the North but certainly not limited to it. There were times when obtaining fuel felt like winning a lottery. I personally have friends who slept overnight at petrol stations, waiting in endless lines just to fill their tanks. Businesses were disrupted not just by price, but by availability.
And when the official pumps ran dry, the black market thrived. Many of us, at one time or another, bought fuel in jerry cans from roadside vendors at inflated prices. We complained about exploitation, about hoarding, about artificial scarcity. We questioned how a country that produces crude oil could struggle so consistently with fuel supply. The subsidy regime, while designed to cushion citizens, was also plagued with inefficiencies, allegations of corruption, and unsustainable fiscal burdens.
These are uncomfortable truths. The subsidy system did not emerge yesterday, and its problems were not created overnight. Successive administrations wrestled with it, postponed difficult decisions, or implemented partial adjustments. When the current administration finally removed it, the shock was immediate because the adjustment had been delayed for so long.
This is not to downplay the hardship many Nigerians are enduring. It is simply to add context. The fuel crisis of the past was a different kind of pain scarcity, uncertainty, and dependence on black market pricing. Today’s crisis is more visible in price inflation and cost-of-living pressure. One was about access; the other is about affordability. Both hurt in different ways. What makes the current moment particularly sensitive is that Nigerians are transitioning from one flawed system to another system that is still stabilizing. In such periods, citizens feel the weight of change before they see its benefits. That gap between sacrifice and visible improvement is where public frustration grows.
It is also important to recognise that economic crises are rarely caused by a single decision. Global oil prices, exchange rate fluctuations, supply chain disruptions, and long-standing structural weaknesses all play roles. The removal of subsidy may have accelerated certain pressures, but it did not singlehandedly create Nigeria’s economic vulnerabilities. Those vulnerabilities have been building over time.
The challenge now is trust. Citizens want assurance that the pain they are enduring is not in vain. They want transparency about how savings from subsidy removal are being used. They want to see investment in infrastructure, education, healthcare, and job creation. They want reforms to feel purposeful, not merely punitive. As we continue this conversation, balance is crucial. We must be empathetic without being sentimental. We must be analytical without being detached. And above all, we must remember that behind every policy are people – families trying to survive, young graduates searching for opportunity, business owners navigating uncertainty.
Nigeria has faced crises before and will likely face others again. What matters is how leadership manages transition and how citizens engage in dialogue. If we can confront our economic realities honestly acknowledging both past failures and present struggles then perhaps we can move beyond blame and toward solutions.
The goal is not to defend or condemn blindly. The goal is to understand fully, speak honestly, and demand accountability while maintaining perspective.
- To Be Continued……
