Author: gqSbgCfmna

Governor Bala Mohammed of Bauchi State has ordered the immediate shutdown of all primary, secondary, and tertiary institutions, including federal and privately owned schools, following heightened security threats across the state.

Mohammed said the decision was reached after extensive consultations and a careful review of rising risks to students, teachers, and school communities.

Read also: Deliberate closure of schools by government marks new low in Nigeria’s battle with insecurity

He noted that while the directive may cause inconvenience, protecting children remains a “moral responsibility” the government will not compromise.

“Our children deserve to learn in an environment that is safe, stable, and free of fear,” he said.

The governor added that the state is working with security agencies to tackle the threats and restore normal academic activities as soon as safety is assured.

He urged parents, guardians, school owners, and other stakeholders to remain calm and cooperate with authorities, stressing that vigilance from the public is critical.

“If you see something, say something. Timely information is crucial to safeguarding our communities,” Mohammed said.

 

This article takes the position that the current effort of the management of the Nigerian National Petroleum Company Limited (NNPCL) to find technical partners to manage its refineries amounts to groping in the dark or looking for something you know is nowhere to be found. The article is of the view that the most rational solution to the serial problems and failed turnaround management (TAM) of the refineries in the last four decades is to sell them.

An article published by BusinessDay on January 30, 2020, claimed that Nigeria spent $25 billion in the previous 25 years rehabilitating the three NNPC refineries in Port Harcourt, Warri and Kaduna. The House of Representatives also alleged on March 24, 2021, that NNPC had spent N11.35 trillion, or over $25 billion, on the rehabilitation of the refineries in the previous twenty years, with no results to show for the colossal amounts spent.

Read also: Senate rejects NNPCL’s explanations on missing ₦210trn

Aliko Dangote, Africa’s foremost industrialist and promoter of Dangote Refinery and Petrochemicals, said in July 2025 while hosting a delegation of CEOs at his refinery that NNPC had spent $18 billion on the rehabilitation of the refineries since he returned them to President Umaru Yar’Adua in a failed privatisation transaction in 2007. He said the refineries will not work. After the return of the refineries by Dangote, President Olusegun Obasanjo also went and told his successor, President Umaru Yar’Adua, that the refineries would not work based on credible expert advice he received, which led to his decision to sell the refineries to Aliko Dangote.

Before the award of the three contracts by the Buhari Administration, between March and August 2021, to rehabilitate the three refineries, there was strong opposition from the informed public to what they saw as another round of wasteful spending on government-owned refineries generally considered moribund at a time the government was cash-strapped and the nation was in deep economic crisis. NNPC embarked on a massive media campaign in support of the rehabilitation of the refineries, with strong political support from the Ministry of Petroleum Resources. The government had made up its mind. So, in March 2021, it approved $1.5 billion for the overhaul of the Port Harcourt refinery complex into virtually a new facility. It was subsequently awarded in August 2021 two separate contracts of $897.67 million and $586.7 million for the repairs of the Warri and Kaduna refineries, respectively. Of the three refineries, only the Port Harcourt Refinery was recommissioned briefly between November 2024 and May 2025 before it was shut down till today. The total contract sum was $2.98437 billion, or a global sum of $3 billion.

“It will be difficult to find government-owned petroleum refineries anywhere else in the world that have been so grossly mismanaged over a period of four decades.”

A new board and management were appointed for NNPCL on April 2, 2025, with Mr Ahmadu Musa Kida as Chairman of the Board and Mr Bashir Bayo Ojulari appointed as Group Chief Executive Officer. This marked a new beginning for NNPCL, as both are top-notch oil and gas professionals. Coincidentally, the same day, Thursday, July 11, 2025, that Mr Aliko Dangote expressed doubts whether NNPCL refineries might ever work again was the same day that the new GCEO of NNPCL granted Bloomberg an interview in Vienna, Austria, where he revealed that the organisation was, among other things, considering the option of selling the refineries as a result of the poor outcome of the last turnaround management (TAM) and the high degree of obsolescence of their equipment. This gave the impression that the new Board and management of NNPCL, led by high-flying technocrats, were adopting rational and dispassionate performance management criteria to turn around the fortunes of the serially mismanaged national oil company. But in a sudden change of position, NNPCL, on July 30, 2025, issued a press statement denying any plan to sell the refineries. Mr Ojulari confirmed the official position of the company, saying that the decision was to “focus on high-grade rehabilitation’ of the refineries, stating that outright sale was “highly unlikely as it would lead to further value erosion.”

It is difficult to understand what NNPCL meant by saying the selling of the refineries will “lead to further value erosion” or its plan to “focus on high-grade rehabilitation.” What could have led to more ‘value erosion’ than the recent $3 billion that went into the drain for turnaround management of the three refineries that did not work? And what more “high-grade rehabilitation” without further draining the national treasury in another round of rehabilitation whose outcome is doubtful?

What is evident is that Mr Ojulari’s Vienna Bloomberg interview sounded an alarm in the minds of groups with vested interests in the continued ownership of the refineries by the Federal Government. It is clear that in the subsequent fight between the new technocrats at the helm of affairs at NNPCL and the coalition of powerful interest groups, including politicians and the labour unions, the coalition won. Very little outcome is to be expected from the present effort of NNPCL to find ‘technical partners’ or ‘equity technical partners’ to revive the refineries, without further ‘value erosion’. It may be difficult to find equity partners who will co-invest with the government and run the refineries. The best might be technical partners who will run the refineries at a fee after the government has poured additional billions of dollars to further repair the refineries, after $3 billion has literally gone into a bottomless pit. It will be difficult to find government-owned petroleum refineries anywhere else in the world that have been so grossly mismanaged over a period of four decades.

The only rational, least-cost (minimising further wasteful public spending) and cost-effective option open to NNPCL and the government is to sell the refineries for whatever they may be worth in their present condition. The rationale is for the Federal Government to cut costs from a moribund asset or group of assets and extract whatever residual value from them through a transparent asset sale or privatisation process. The real value of privatisation is not the immediate financial value the government derives, but the potential of the transaction to turn around the asset in the hands of more efficient and more productive owners, which will then add considerable value to the economy in terms of job creation, income generation, wealth creation and contribution to the nation’s gross domestic product (GDP). Furthermore, the government would have saved future billions of dollars of asset rehabilitation or turnaround maintenance (TAM) expenses.

Read also: Court dismisses Dangote’s N100bn lawsuit against NNPCL over oil import licenses

Besides, the use of ‘technical partners’ to run the refineries is a vote of no confidence in the Nigerian management and technical personnel of the refineries. In the 21st century, running petroleum refineries is not rocket science. Which “technical partners” are running the 650,000-barrel-per-day single-train Dangote petroleum refinery?

The truth is, the real issue that has bedevilled NNPC refineries in the past four decades is not a lack of technical expertise. Nigerians have the technical expertise. The real issues are government ownership, political interference, and loss of financial autonomy by NNPC since the 1990s. If these issues persist with the coming on board of technical partners, the refineries will perform sub-optimally and the partnership will eventually fail. Even if NNPCL replaces the existing moribund refineries with new ones of the same or higher capacity, with the existence of the current climate of poor governance and intense political interference, the refineries will eventually fail.

Finally, with the plan by Dangote Refinery to more than double its size to 1.4 million barrels per day in the next three years and plans by other investors to build large-scale petroleum refineries in Nigeria, the danger is that the existing three NNPCL refineries will lose market value and end up as scraps if they are not sold quickly enough. Thus, the best option for the NNPCL refineries is for them to be sold quickly. The present NNPCL leadership knows what to do. They should be allowed to do the needful.

Mr Igbinoba is Team Lead/CEO at ProServe Options Consulting, Lagos.

In many Nigerian homes, a graduate’s first decent job triggers a curious phenomenon. The congratulatory messages quickly give way to a steady stream of requests: school fees, hospital bills, rent top-ups, “urgent 2k”. The payslip belongs to one person; the obligations belong to a village. Across Africa, this is increasingly described as “black tax”—the informal but powerful expectation that successful Black professionals will support their extended families financially. The term has South African roots, describing money that first-generation Black professionals feel compelled to remit to relatives who lack pensions, savings or stable income. In Nigeria, the phrase may be imported, but the reality is deeply local. A 28-year-old analyst in Lagos, a nurse in Abuja, and a tech worker in London sending money to Ibadan, all know this invisible levy on progress.

Read also: Recyclers association urges FG to prioritise recycling content policy, tax incentives for growth

Why black tax is so pervasive

Black tax sits at the intersection of culture and economic failure. On one side stands Nigeria’s powerful norm of familial obligation. To “abandon” one’s parents or siblings after “making it” is morally unacceptable. On the other side is a state that provides minimal social protection. The numbers tell the story. Over 46% of Nigerians live below the national poverty line, with millions pushed deeper into hardship by soaring food prices; poor households spend up to 70% of their income on food. Other estimates suggest roughly 139 million Nigerians—around 60% of the population—now live in poverty. The formal unemployment rate appears relatively low at 4-5%, but this masks high underemployment and informality. When one child “breaks through” into stable employment, that income becomes the de facto safety net for an entire kinship network. Nigeria’s huge remittance flows illustrate this dynamic. The country received an estimated $19.5 billion in diaspora remittances in 2023, accounting for roughly 35% of all inflows to Sub-Saharan Africa. Behind those aggregate figures lie millions of micro-transactions: salaries in London, Toronto or Dubai quietly converted into rent, food and school fees in Owerri, Kaduna and Akure. Black tax is the private welfare system filling gaps left by a thin state and a fragmented labour market.

The economics of an informal levy

For the individual professional, black tax functions like an additional marginal tax rate. Every salary increase is partially pre-allocated in relatives’ minds. A promotion translates not into increased savings, but into larger food allowances, tuition for multiple cousins, or bail-outs for siblings’ ventures. Consider a mid-level professional in Lagos earning ₦800,000 monthly. After statutory deductions and basic living costs in a high-inflation city, they might save 20-25% of their income. But with sustained family obligations, a parent’s rent, a brother’s polytechnic fees, and transfers to a widowed aunt, that savings rate collapses into single digits or disappears entirely. Over a decade, the lost compounding effect on investments, pensions or property ownership becomes substantial. At scale, this constrains capital formation. A large cohort of Nigeria’s emerging middle class struggles to accumulate assets, even when gross incomes look respectable. Home ownership is delayed; retirement savings remain thin; entrepreneurial risk-taking is constrained because failed ventures would affect not just the entrepreneur but an entire network of dependents. Black tax also distorts labour decisions. Talented professionals may feel unable to change jobs, study abroad, or accept lower-pay, higher-potential opportunities because too many people rely on their current pay cheque. Choosing riskier career paths becomes a luxury few can afford when school fees for three siblings fall due every term.

“Money flows rapidly from those with steady incomes to those facing shocks: illness, job loss, unpaid school fees. In a context of weak formal safety nets, this is a powerful stabiliser. Negatively, it can entrench a low-equilibrium trap.”

Social and psychological costs

Beyond budgets and balance sheets, black tax carries emotional weight. First, it reshapes family power dynamics. The earning child may become the new patriarch or matriarch before age 30, their opinions carrying weight not from wisdom but from wiring money. Resentment flows both ways: the payer feels used; recipients feel judged. Second, the burden falls unevenly. Often, one “star child”, usually the first to secure good employment or emigrate, becomes the primary financier while siblings contribute far less. This breeds quiet bitterness and long-term fractures. Third, there is a gender dimension. Nigerian women who earn well juggle triple expectations: support for birth families, contributions to in-laws, and prescribed responsibilities as wives and mothers. Saying “no” costs them more reputationally. Finally, the psychological toll is real. Professionals report guilt when unable to meet every request, anxiety when relatives call, and burnout from playing emergency banker. Yet many also describe deep satisfaction from lifting parents from deprivation or enabling a sibling’s graduation. Black tax is both a burden and a pride—a form of solidarity that is emotionally charged and morally complex.

Read also: RAN urges FG to prioritise recycling content policy, tax incentives for growth

A double-edged sword for society

For Nigeria as a whole, black tax cuts both ways. Positively, it efficiently smooths consumption and reduces immediate destitution. Money flows rapidly from those with steady incomes to those facing shocks: illness, job loss, unpaid school fees. In a context of weak formal safety nets, this is a powerful stabiliser. Negatively, it can entrench a low-equilibrium trap. Because middle-class households struggle to save and invest, the country under-produces long-term capital for mortgages, enterprises or retirement. Instead, scarce middle-class income meets short-term consumption needs. Diaspora remittances illustrate this clearly. While they relieve household suffering and support education, evidence suggests a significant share goes to day-to-day expenses, given pressure from food inflation and rising living costs. That is rational at the household level, but at the macro level, it means billions that could seed investments are absorbed by survival. Black tax may also reinforce inequality within networks. The few who “escape” poverty carry many on their backs, but only so far. The next generation may still start life without inheritances, with exhausted parents who have minimal pensions. The ladder is extended, yet not quite far enough to build generational wealth.

What can be done?

Black tax will not vanish; it is rooted in deep cultural norms of responsibility and reciprocity. The realistic goal is not abolition but transformation—from suffocating obligation into sustainable intergenerational support. That requires action on several fronts.

A stronger social contract: The most fundamental solution lies with the state. Expanding targeted social protection—cash transfers, health insurance for the poor, school feeding, old-age support—would reduce the extent to which a young professional’s salary is the only buffer between family and catastrophe. Recent support packages are steps forward, but domestic political will must carry reforms beyond loans and pilot schemes.

Labour-market and inflation management: Creating more and better jobs, especially for youth, reduces dependency ratios within families. Simultaneously, taming food inflation is critical; when basic food baskets multiply in price, every naira of black tax buys less relief, and demands on earners rise.

Financial literacy and planning: At the household level, professionals need tools to manage obligations without destroying their financial futures. This includes setting explicit budgets for family support, prioritising structural help over endless ad hoc bailouts, and insisting on transparency about fund usage. Employers can help by embedding financial wellness programmes into HR offerings.

Family dialogue and boundaries: Culturally, Nigerians need more honest conversations about capacity and responsibility. It is entirely possible to honour parents and support relatives while also saying, “This is what I can afford, and nothing more.” Joint family plans—siblings pooling funds for parents or agreeing on support timelines—can spread the load more fairly.

Channelling support into assets: Where possible, black tax should be redirected into investments that reduce future dependence: paying for skills training rather than repeated handouts; helping parents acquire income-generating assets; supporting siblings to complete qualifications that raise their earning power.

Read also: Tax restructuring, exchange rate unification not abstract policies Oborevwori

An invisible tax, a visible choice

Black tax is ultimately a symptom of deeper structural realities: widespread poverty, an underfunded welfare state, and labour markets that fail to create enough good jobs. It is also a testament to Nigerians’ instinct not to abandon one another, even when institutions do. For policymakers, the task is building a society where supporting one’s family is an act of generosity, not an inescapable, crushing levy. For professionals, the challenge is balancing solidarity with self-preservation and emotion with arithmetic. If Nigeria can strengthen its social contract, create more opportunities, and help households plan better, then the “tax” on success can evolve into something else: a deliberate, sustainable strategy for lifting entire families from poverty—not just for one generation, but for the next.

 

Dr Oluyemi Adeosun, Chief Economist, BusinessDay.

Nigeria’s 36 states received record allocations from the Federation Account (FAAC) in 2024, yet most have failed to translate those funds into measurable improvements in education and healthcare. New BudgIT data reveals that even the wealthiest subnationals lag behind smaller, poorer states in social spending efficiency.

Despite some states generating huge revenues, many fail to prioritise citizen-centric spending, while smaller states achieve better outcomes with limited funds.

“Nigeria’s fiscal federalism has created a structure where most states survive on federal transfers rather than local productivity,” said Gabriel Okeowo, Country Director at BudgIT, in the State of States 2024 report. “High allocations have not translated into better welfare because spending remains skewed toward salaries and capital projects, not human development.”

Read also: States target greater capital inflows with launch of subnational investment summit

According to BusinessDay economists, the welfare index, calculated as the sum of education and health expenditure divided by total revenue, provides a clear measure of how effectively states convert available funds into social impact.

Per capita education and health spending, taken from BudgIT data, further indicate the reach and quality of social services, allowing comparisons between states regardless of size or revenue.

High revenue does not guarantee better welfare.

Lagos State, Nigeria’s commercial hub, received N671 billion from FAAC and generated N1.26 trillion in internally generated revenue. It spent N267.92 billion on education and health, producing a welfare index of 13.86.

Per capita spending stood at N7,864 for education and N8,662 for health. Delta State, with N1.19 trillion from FAAC and N164.58 billion in IGR, invested N166.85 billion in social sectors, yielding a welfare index of 12.3.

“Experts warn that unless states rebalance spending, Nigeria’s high revenue will continue to fail in improving citizen welfare. Greater accountability, transparency, and citizen-focused budgeting are critical, particularly in resource-rich states.”

BusinessDay economists note that these figures show even high-revenue states often struggle to turn funds into meaningful improvements in citizen welfare. Large absolute spending does not automatically translate into better outcomes if budgets prioritise capital projects and administration over people.

“The problem isn’t that states lack money; it’s that budgets don’t prioritise citizens,” said Muda Yusuf, CEO of the Centre for the Promotion of Private Enterprise (CPPE), in an interview with BusinessDay. “If education and healthcare continue to receive token allocations, the social dividends of growth will remain invisible.”

Smaller states prioritise social spending.

Some states with modest revenue perform better in welfare outcomes. Ebonyi State, for example, received N112.22 billion from FAAC and N15.23 billion in IGR, yet spent N49.55 billion on education and health. Its welfare index of 38.88 is among the highest in the country. Kogi State, with limited revenue, allocated a significant share to social sectors and achieved a welfare score of 37.94.

Read also: Four states’ pension arrears exceed revenue

“Ebonyi and Kogi are examples of what fiscal efficiency can look like at the subnational level,” noted Aisha Abdullahi, Senior Economist at the Nigerian Economic Summit Group (NESG), during the 2024 Fiscal Policy Roundtable. “They show that even with modest inflows, deliberate investment in education and health can yield stronger welfare outcomes than revenue-heavy states.”

BusinessDay economists highlight that these examples show fiscal discipline and deliberate prioritisation of human development matter more than sheer revenue. Smaller states can achieve higher welfare outcomes when funds are directed at education and healthcare rather than large capital projects.

Regional differences are clear.

Disparities are visible across regions. In the South-West, Oyo State spent N74.87 billion on education and health from a total expenditure of N402.44 billion, producing a welfare index of 15.25. Lagos, despite higher absolute spending, lags behind. In the South-East, Abia’s N107.11 billion social investment translates into a welfare score of 32.77, while Anambra, spending N30.33 billion, records just 8.62.

Northern states show mixed results. Kaduna and Jigawa, with modest FAAC receipts, achieved welfare indices of 29.19 and 28.05, while Borno State, despite N338.25 billion from FAAC, has one of the lowest welfare scores at 9.45. BusinessDay economists note these differences reflect how well states manage and allocate funds rather than how much money they receive.

Capital projects often overshadow social investment.

Across most states, capital expenditure dominates budgets, often at the expense of education and healthcare. Lagos allocated over N1 trillion to capital projects, more than four times its spending on social sectors.

Delta and Edo States follow similar patterns. Meanwhile, states such as Ebonyi and Kogi dedicate a larger proportion of their budgets to education and health, contributing to higher welfare scores.

Experts warn that unless states rebalance spending, Nigeria’s high revenue will continue to fail in improving citizen welfare. Greater accountability, transparency, and citizen-focused budgeting are critical, particularly in resource-rich states.

Revenue alone does not improve lives.

Read also: BudgIT’s State of the States Report: Understanding Enugu’s miracle of five loaves and two fish

The data show that welfare outcomes are not determined by revenue alone. Analysts at BusinessDay observe that improving social conditions requires moving beyond FAAC dependence and capital projects.

Funds must be effectively directed into education, healthcare, and citizen-centric programmes to achieve meaningful improvements in well-being.

Oluwatobi Ojabello, senior economic analyst at BusinessDay.

Nigeria is heading into another fiscal year with its public finances in a state of organised confusion. As 2025 draws to a close, the country is still wrestling with overlapping budgets, delayed reports, shifting numbers and a missing medium-term plan. Senators now openly warn that the overlap of the 2024 and 2025 budgets has cast doubt on when – or even whether – a 2026 Appropriation Bill will be presented in good time. What should be a predictable annual ritual – medium-term plan, budget proposal, legislative scrutiny, implementation, reporting – has become a muddle of extensions, amendments and after-the-fact explanations. For an economy of over 200 million people, this is more than an accounting irritant; it is a recipe for weak growth, wasted money and eroding trust.

Read also: Governor Kefas presents ₦650.6bn 2026 budget to Taraba Assembly

One country, many budgets

In theory, Nigeria operates a January–December budget cycle. In practice, recent years have normalised running multiple budgets at once. The 2023 Appropriation Act, worth about N21.8 trillion, and the N2.17 trillion 2023 supplementary budget did not die with the calendar year. They were first extended to March 31, 2024, then again to June 30, 2024, and finally to 31 December 2024, ostensibly to prevent projects from being abandoned. Alongside them, the 2024 ‘Budget of Renewed Hope,’ initially put at about N28.7 trillion (later restated in some documents nearer N27.5 trillion), began its own life cycle. Analysts have pointed out that, at various points in 2024, four separate budget instruments – the 2023 main and supplementary budgets, the 2024 main budget and a 2024 supplementary – were all in force. The habit did not stop there. The capital component of the 2024 budget, which should have lapsed in December 2024, was first extended to 30 June 2025, and then extended again to 31 December 2025. As Premium Times put it in October, Nigeria is currently running two budgets simultaneously: the extended 2024 capital budget and the 2025 budget of about N54.2 trillion. That is not a sign of clever flexibility; it is a symptom of a system that cannot complete what it starts.

Budget numbers that won’t sit still

The story of the 2025 budget illustrates the drift. On 18 December 2024, President Bola Tinubu presented a N49.7 trillion 2025 budget proposal to the National Assembly. As the plan moved through the legislative process, the envelope was revised upward to around N54.2 trillion. Lawmakers then added their own adjustments and, on 13 February 2025, passed a record N54.99 trillion Appropriation Act – with a deficit of N13.08 trillion, or about 3.9 percent of projected GDP. It did not end there. In November 2025, the National Assembly approved an additional N1.15 trillion in domestic borrowing to close the gap between the deficit initially proposed by the executive and the larger deficit it had itself approved. The total 2025 budget now stands at N59.99 trillion. On paper, then, Nigeria is promising more spending than ever before. In reality, the problem is not the headline size; it is the capacity to implement.

Implementation that never quite starts

Under Nigeria’s Fiscal Responsibility Act (FRA), the Budget Office must publish a quarterly budget implementation report within 30 days of the end of each quarter. These Budget Implementation Reports (BIRs) are supposed to tell citizens and investors what has actually happened to the trillions appropriated in Abuja. In the last year, that legal discipline has broken down. Civic-tech group BudgIT noted in August 2025 that the government had failed to publish any BIRs for nearly a year, in breach of the FRA. The Budget Office later confirmed that the reports had been delayed by lengthy verification and reconciliation exercises – and by the confusion created by overlapping budget cycles. When the full-year 2024 budget performance report finally appeared in October 2025, investigative work by FIJ showed that only 32.28 percent of the 2024 capital budget had been disbursed as of June 2025 – six months after the budget was meant to have run its course. In other words, less than one-third of capital spending had moved, even as the government was asking Parliament to extend the life of the budget and to approve still more borrowing. The 2025 capital budget is faring little better. While some releases have been made, capital implementation has been heavily delayed, with lawmakers themselves warning that the extended 2024 projects are crowding out the start-up of 2025 projects. Contractors complain of unpaid certificates across two budget years, and banks are watching project-linked loans with growing unease. A budget that lives mostly on paper is no budget at all.

Read also: Delayed 2025 budget rollout threatens policy outcomes

A missing medium-term compass

Behind the annual drama is a deeper institutional failure: the erosion of medium-term fiscal planning. The FRA requires the federal government to prepare a rolling Medium-Term Expenditure Framework (MTEF) and Fiscal Strategy Paper covering the next three years, and to lay it before the National Assembly at least four months before the start of the new financial year. The annual budget is supposed to be derived from this framework. In 2025, that sequence has come apart. As of October, the Senate was complaining that overlap between the 2024 and 2025 budgets had cast doubt on “the viability of the presentation of the 2026 Appropriation Bill… anytime soon,” and no 2026–2028 (or 2026–2029) MTEF had been transmitted for scrutiny. States, meanwhile, are already tabling their own 2026 budgets, in some cases without a clear federal benchmark to work with. A ship without a chart can still move. It just struggles to arrive where it said it was going.

Debt: the comforting story and the awkward numbers

On one level, the debt story looks reassuring. The World Bank’s October 2025 update notes that Nigeria’s public debt-to-GDP ratio has fallen to 39.8 percent, its first decline in more than a decade, helped by higher nominal GDP and exchange-rate effects. Yet the way the 2025 budget is being financed tells a different tale. After pushing total spending to nearly N60 trillion, the federal government has leaned harder on both domestic and external borrowing. In early November, Nigeria sold $2.35 billion in Eurobonds, split between a long 10-year and a long 20-year tranche, at yields of about 8.625 percent and 9.125 percent. The Debt Management Office (DMO) makes no secret of the purpose: the proceeds will be used to finance the 2025 fiscal deficit and other government financing needs. Taken together with the additional N1.15 trillion in domestic borrowing approved in November, this means that Nigeria is paying some of the highest interest rates in its history to fund budgets whose capital components are only partially implemented and poorly reported.

No visible dividend for citizens

For ordinary Nigerians, these fiscal contortions would be tolerable if they delivered visible improvements in daily life. They have not. The World Bank estimates that over 46 percent of Nigerians now live below the national poverty line, with food inflation hitting the poorest hardest, as they spend up to 70 percent of their income on food. Another recent report puts the number of Nigerians living in poverty at about 139 million in 2025, up sharply from 2018.The Bank notes that the cost of a basic food basket has risen roughly fivefold since 2019, a brutal ‘tax’ on households that see little of the supposed benefits of macroeconomic reform. While headline inflation is projected to ease somewhat in 2025, it remains high by historical standards, and food prices continue to erode real wages and savings. Against this backdrop, talk of record budgets and ‘transformation’ rings hollow. Nigerians do not experience budgets as PDFs on government websites; they experience them as roads, power, schools, hospitals and jobs. On that test, the current system is failing.

How to fix a drifting system

None of this is inevitable. Nigeria’s budget mess is the product of choices – and it can be reversed by different choices. At minimum, five reforms are urgent:

1. Restore the calendar and stop serial extensions

One budget per year should be more than a slogan. Extensions of capital implementation should be rare, tightly justified and project-specific, not routine blanket rollovers that normalise running two budgets at once.

2. Treat fiscal rules as binding law

The timelines in the Fiscal Responsibility Act – for MTEF preparation, budget submission and quarterly implementation reports – should be enforced by Parliament and, if necessary, the courts. A rule that can be ignored is no rule at all.

3. Publish implementation data on time and in usable form

Returning BIRs to their statutory schedule, and publishing project-level data in machine-readable formats, would greatly strengthen public oversight and investor confidence. The 2024 experience – a full-year report appearing ten months late – should be an exception that is never repeated.

Read also: Experts hinge SME market success on authentic storytelling, not big budgets

4. Align borrowing with a transparent fiscal strategy

Extra borrowing approvals should be framed within a clear, medium-term debt strategy – including explicit limits on interest-to-revenue ratios – rather than justified piecemeal each time a gap appears.

5. Rebuild executive–legislative coordination

The Presidency and the National Assembly need a shared, public budget timetable: date for MTEF submission, date for budget presentation, deadline for passage. Political contestation is healthy, but procedural chaos is not.

A budget is more than an annual spectacle in the National Assembly. It is the country’s most important economic contract. Until Nigeria returns to a single, timely, well-implemented and honestly reported budget each year, anchored in a credible medium-term plan, the country will continue to live with what it has now: rising numbers on paper, rising debt in practice, and too little change in the lives of the people all this is supposedly for.

 

Dr Adeosun is BusinessDay’s chief economist

Financial fraud remains one of the most corrosive threats to institutions and economies across the world. Even highly developed markets, the United States, the United Kingdom, Europe and parts of Asia, have suffered major corporate scandals involving global giants such as Enron, Tyco, MCI Telecommunications and Cadbury Schweppes. These cases demonstrate a universal truth: financial fraud is a cankerworm that erodes trust, destroys value and destabilises economies. Nigeria is no exception. Recent revelations of massive fraud in several corporate institutions have once again exposed the fragility of internal systems and the urgent need for more robust preventive frameworks.

Financial fraud, at its core, is deliberate deception for personal or financial gain. It thrives where incentives, pressure or opportunity exist, and it is amplified in environments marked by weak internal controls, poor oversight, inadequate governance structures and dominance of management by a single individual or small clique. Other red flags include poor working conditions, persistent arrears, related-party transactions, high staff turnover, inadequate working capital and declining profitability. These factors create fertile ground for unethical behaviour to flourish.

The consequences are devastating: financial loss, reputational damage, psychological distress, erosion of public trust and, ultimately, the weakening of entire economic systems. Addressing this requires more than periodic reforms or reactive investigations. It demands a structural shift in how organisations perceive, monitor and respond to financial irregularities.

While tools such as whistle-blowing policies, forensic audits and independent reviews are essential, a more transformative framework has emerged globally, one that places public interest at the heart of professional responsibility. This is the NOCLAR principle.

NOCLAR, an acronym for Non-Compliance with Laws and Regulations, is a groundbreaking ethical standard introduced by the International Ethics Standards Board for Accountants (IESBA) and implemented on 15 July 2017. It provides clear guidance on the obligations of professional accountants when they encounter suspected illegal acts committed by a client or employer. The principle compels accountants to move beyond passive observance or concealment and to take appropriate action in the public interest.

What makes NOCLAR particularly powerful is its ability to bridge a long-standing gap in the profession. In many jurisdictions, existing laws and regulations do not adequately define the responsibilities of accountants when confronted with potential illegality. NOCLAR fills this void by outlining the steps accountants must take, internally and, if necessary, externally, to ensure that non-compliance is addressed rather than hidden under the guise of confidentiality.

The scope of NOCLAR is wide-ranging. It covers money laundering, fraud, bribery, corruption, tax evasion, environmental breaches, public health misconduct, social reporting violations and other offences that undermine organisational integrity and public trust. By compelling professional accountants to act, document concerns and escalate issues to appropriate authorities, the principle strengthens governance systems and discourages malpractice at its root.

The benefits of adopting NOCLAR are far-reaching. First, it raises the ethical bar for the global accountancy profession, reinforcing the idea that accountants are custodians of public interest, not just financial technicians. It reassures stakeholders, including governments, regulators, shareholders, donor agencies and the wider public, that the profession prioritises transparency over secrecy and integrity over convenience.

Second, NOCLAR enhances accountability and operational transparency within organisations. By empowering accountants to question and report irregularities, it reduces the likelihood of financial manipulation, protects investments from losses caused by non-compliance and creates a culture where wrongdoing is less likely to be overlooked or normalised.

Third, it strengthens the roles of auditors and other professional accountants involved in oversight functions. The principle mandates appropriate reporting, even of confidential matters, thereby preventing ethical breaches from being quietly buried. It encourages professionals to insist on compliance and to escalate deviations to those with authority to act.

Furthermore, NOCLAR positions the accounting profession at the frontline of the global fight against money laundering, insider trading, tax evasion and financial crimes. Its structured framework supports early detection, enhances organisational resilience and helps restore public confidence in both private and public institutions.

In conclusion, NOCLAR is not merely another regulatory tool; it is a transformative ethical compass for the accountancy profession. It provides actionable guidance in jurisdictions where legal provisions are vague and complements legislation where frameworks exist but enforcement is weak. Ultimately, its purpose is clear: to prevent professional accountants from hiding behind confidentiality to shield misconduct and to ensure that transparency, accountability and public interest become non-negotiable standards in financial governance.

 

Kingsley Ndubueze Ayozie, FCTI, FCA, is a public affairs analyst and chartered accountant.