Author: user user

Some political relationships are born out of electoral calculations. Others are forged through decades of friendship, mutual respect and shared experiences. The relationship between former Vice President Atiku Abubakar and the Igbo people of Nigeria’s Southeast belongs, in significant measure, to the latter category.

A video featuring Chief Dan Ulasi, former Chairman of the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) in Anambra State, which I recently stumbled upon, offers a compelling reminder of this relationship and its historical roots. Chief Ulasi recalls how Atiku, as an officer of the Nigeria Customs Service, assisted Igbo businessmen in clearing their imported goods during the difficult years following the Nigerian Civil War.

It is a remarkable testimony, not because Atiku is today a presidential candidate, but because the relationship predates his involvement in national politics. It speaks to a time when the overriding concern of the average Igbo businessman was not electoral politics but economic survival.

To appreciate the significance of Chief Ulasi’s recollection, we must revisit the circumstances of the Southeast following the Civil War. When the war ended in January 1970, the Igbo people faced enormous devastation. Businesses had collapsed, properties had been destroyed, families had been displaced and personal savings had been substantially eroded.

To compound their difficulties, the controversial £20 policy meant that many people surrendering wartime currency received a flat payment of just £20, regardless of the amount deposited. Although the policy did not apply uniformly to every bank account, it remains an enduring symbol of the economic hardship that followed the war.

Yet, the Igbo refused to surrender to adversity. With remarkable resilience, they rebuilt their businesses, revived their commercial networks and reclaimed their place in Nigeria’s economic life. From Onitsha to Aba, Nnewi to Enugu, and across the length and breadth of Nigeria, Igbo entrepreneurship flourished. It was during this period of reconstruction that Atiku, who joined the Nigeria Customs Service in 1969, began developing the commercial relationships that Chief Ulasi recalls.

His account portrays Atiku as someone who assisted Igbo businessmen navigating the challenges of clearing imported goods. Here was a young Customs officer from northern Nigeria relating with businessmen from the East, not through the divisive prism of ethnicity or religion, but through the shared realities of commerce and human relationships.

This is the Atiku story that deserves greater attention: a relationship with the Igbo people that did not begin with the search for presidential votes. And it is a relationship that provides an important context for examining Atiku’s economic vision for the Southeast.

Atiku understands that the Igbo entrepreneurial spirit needs more than praise. It requires an enabling environment, reliable infrastructure, affordable financing and government policies that reward productivity.

Consider the plight of businessmen and manufacturers in Aba, Onitsha and Nnewi. A manufacturer in Aba battles unreliable electricity, expensive diesel, inadequate financing and high transportation costs. An industrialist in Nnewi confronts similar challenges while struggling to remain competitive. An importer in Onitsha must contend with the cost of moving goods from distant seaports.

These difficulties are not inevitable. They are problems that purposeful economic policies can address. This explains the significance of Atiku’s commitment to the rehabilitation and development of ports along Nigeria’s eastern maritime corridor.

In August 2026, Atiku reiterated his intention to develop eastern ports and reduce Nigeria’s excessive dependence on Lagos for maritime commerce. He recalled discussions with international shipping and port-development interests aimed at improving the country’s maritime infrastructure.

The commercial implications for the Southeast are considerable. Why should a businessman in Onitsha or a manufacturer in Aba bear enormous transportation costs moving containers from Lagos when functioning ports in Port Harcourt, Onne, Warri and Calabar could offer alternative gateways?

Although these ports are geographically located in the South-South, their rehabilitation and efficient operation would directly benefit businesses throughout the Southeast.

Improved port operations, supported by reliable road and rail connections, could lower logistics costs, reduce congestion, facilitate trade and strengthen the competitiveness of Nigerian manufacturers.

Atiku’s earlier commitment to making the Onitsha inland port functional is equally important. Properly developed and connected to other transportation networks, it could become a significant logistics centre for the region’s commercial activities.

The proposed operationalisation of the Abia dry port offers another opportunity. At a presidential campaign rally in Umuahia in February 2023, Atiku pledged to make the Abia dry port operational and announced a proposed $10 billion fund to support businesses, particularly in the Southeast. He recalled an earlier commitment to assist the rehabilitation of businesses in Aba.

These are commitments with potentially far-reaching implications. A properly structured business-support fund, with transparent financing and administration, could help manufacturers acquire modern equipment, expand production, create employment and compete more effectively in domestic and international markets.

The Southeast does not lack entrepreneurial talent. What it needs is an economic environment that allows that talent to flourish.

Aba’s footwear, garment and leather industries deserve stronger industrial infrastructure and access to affordable credit. Nnewi’s automobile-parts and engineering industries require reliable electricity, modern technology and supportive manufacturing policies. Onitsha’s vast commercial networks need efficient transportation, improved logistics and predictable Customs procedures.

Beyond infrastructure, Atiku’s proposals for restructuring and greater devolution of powers provide another important dimension to the development of the Southeast.

For too long, Nigeria’s excessive centralisation has constrained the ability of states to address their peculiar development needs.

A restructured federation, with clearly defined responsibilities and appropriate resources, could give states greater flexibility to develop industrial clusters, attract investment, improve infrastructure and respond effectively to local economic challenges.

Security must also occupy a central place in any serious development agenda for the Southeast. Insecurity, violent attacks, criminal activities and disruptions to commercial life have inflicted considerable hardship on communities and businesses.

No region can realise its economic potential when traders cannot move freely, factories cannot operate consistently and ordinary citizens live in fear.

A credible security framework must therefore combine effective law enforcement, community participation, intelligence gathering and greater cooperation between federal and state authorities.

Equally important is the challenge of political inclusion. The Southeast deserves equitable representation in national institutions, fair access to federal infrastructure investments and the assurance that its people are equal stakeholders in the Nigerian federation.

These are not demands for special treatment. They are legitimate expectations of citizenship.

It is precisely here that the question of national leadership becomes important. Under President Bola Tinubu, the administration has faced persistent criticism over perceptions of ethnic favouritism, religious divisions and unequal political representation. Those criticisms deserve serious examination rather than automatic dismissal as opposition politics.

Nigeria cannot afford a political culture in which ethnicity becomes a measure of loyalty or religion determines who is considered sufficiently Nigerian.

The President of Nigeria is not the President of one ethnic group, one religion or one geopolitical zone. He is President of all Nigerians.

Atiku’s longstanding advocacy of national inclusion and restructuring offers a different framework for discussing these challenges.

But one principle should not be negotiable: no Nigerian should be made to feel like a second-class citizen in his own country.

An Igbo businessman investing in Kano, a Hausa entrepreneur operating in Onitsha, or a Yoruba professional working in Enugu must enjoy equal dignity, protection and opportunity. That is the essence of the Nigerian ideal.

The relationship recalled by Chief Dan Ulasi illustrates the importance of human connections that transcend the artificial boundaries of ethnic and religious politics.

More than five decades after the Civil War, Nigeria should have moved decisively beyond the politics of suspicion, exclusion and historical resentment.

The promise of reconciliation must find expression in economic opportunity, equitable development and national belonging.

There is also an important evolution in the Atiku story. The young Customs officer whom Chief Ulasi remembers for assisting businessmen with the clearance of their goods is today proposing policies intended to address the structural challenges confronting those same commercial communities.

The task is no longer merely to help individual businessmen clear their containers. It is to build a system in which containers move efficiently, ports function competitively, manufacturers enjoy affordable electricity and businesses prosper without unnecessary obstacles.

That is the difference between individual assistance and institutional development.

Ultimately, the Igbo people, like Nigerians everywhere, deserve to assess political leaders by their records, commitments and capacity to deliver meaningful development.

Atiku’s historical relationships, his proposals for eastern ports, business financing, industrial development and restructuring are relevant considerations in that assessment.

Chief Ulasi’s testimony reminds us that political relationships need not begin and end with elections. They can be built through decades of mutual respect, cooperation and shared humanity.

Nigeria’s unity will not be secured by political slogans or forced declarations of patriotism. It will be sustained when every Nigerian, whether Igbo, Hausa, Fulani, Yoruba, Ijaw, Tiv, Kanuri or from any other community, experiences the dignity of equal citizenship.

And when the ports work, factories produce, businesses prosper and opportunities become accessible to all, national integration will cease to be merely a political aspiration.

It will become a lived reality. That is the Nigeria worth building. And that is the enduring lesson in the relationship between Atiku Abubakar and the Igbo people.

The Renewable Energy Forum Africa (REFA) runs 25-26 November at the Radisson Blu Anchorage Hotel. The Africa Solar Industry Association (AFSIA) organises it, with support from SolarPower Europe. It follows editions in Cape Town, Nairobi and Accra.

The forum is under the patronage of Nigeria’s Rural Electrification Agency (REA). Abba Aliyu, managing director of REA, will give the keynote at the opening plenary on 25 November.

A market that has grown quickly

Nigeria is West Africa’s largest solar market, with about 618 MWp of operational capacity. That ranks first in the region and eighth in Africa. It leads the continent in mini-grids with 132 MWp, more than double second-placed Angola. It is fourth in Africa for commercial and industrial solar, with roughly 385 MWp tracked by AFSIA. About 76% of operational capacity was commissioned from 2022 onwards.

Policy and money are following. REA’s $750 million World Bank-backed DARES programme targets 1,350 solar mini-grids and better electricity access for 17.5 million people. Construction has started in several states, helped by new NERC Mini-Grid Regulations issued in April.

The $300 million Nigeria Distributed Renewable Energy Fund, run by NSIA and Africa50, launched commercially in September. It will finance mini-grids, standalone solar and other distributed projects.

On manufacturing, Nigeria’s first privately owned 100 MW module assembly plant is operating in Ibeju-Lekki, Lagos. REA, InfraCorp and Solarge are developing a 1 GW factory. REA has committed to buying at least 200 MW of its modules a year for five years.

Under NERC’s Net Billing Regulations 2026, eligible solar customers can export surplus power to the grid and earn credits. Oversight of electricity markets has also passed to 16 states, Lagos among them. For single-state projects, licences and tariffs now come from state commissions.

What’s on the agenda

Sessions will cover why permitted, contracted utility-scale projects are still waiting for financial close, and how productive-use loads improve mini-grid returns. They will also look at corporate power purchase agreements and storage, and at why telecoms, mining and data centres are becoming bankable power customers. Other streams cover e-mobility fleets, blended finance structures for currency and offtake risk, and counterfeit solar products. B2B matchmaking runs on both days alongside an exhibition.

REFA says earlier editions drew 325 attendees, 41 speakers and 25 partners, and led to 972 B2B meetings. Developers and financiers made up more than half of 2025 attendees.

On the evening of 25 November, the AFSIA Awards will honour projects and companies across 14 categories.

Industry voices

‘Nigeria’s clean energy ecosystem is growing at an unprecedented pace,’ Aliyu said. ‘The nation’s transition to a sustainable energy future requires more than ambition; it requires investment, strong partnerships, and the development of our local manufacturing ecosystem.’

Walburga Hemetsberger, CEO of SolarPower Europe, called Nigeria ‘one of West Africa’s most dynamic markets for renewable energy development,’ with momentum around solar, storage and local value creation.

Olamide Niyi-Afuye, CEO of the Africa Minigrid Developers Association, said distributed renewables are increasingly positioned to power productive enterprises and support Africa’s industrialisation ambitions.

Equipment makers are also backing the event. Jinko Solar is Diamond Partner. JA Solar, AIKO, Zimmermann PV-Steel Group, AlphaESS, KUKA Cable and Sungrow are also partners. Max Luo, regional manager at AlphaESS, said storage can help businesses ‘get more from solar while using less diesel.’

Conversations with Nigerian delegates attending the annual Nigeria-Belgium Luxembourg Business Forum revealed strong support for retaining more value at home. But they also reinforced a practical truth: Nigeria cannot legislate value addition without building the industrial system that makes it possible.

Over breakfast, the conversation began with cocoa. At lunch, it moved to minerals, machinery and industrial power. By dinner, we were discussing finance, European buyers and the uncomfortable possibility that a well-intentioned export restriction could harm the very Nigerian producers it was designed to support.

I am writing from Brussels, where I have been engaging with business leaders and institutional representatives attending the ongoing Nigeria Belgium Luxembourg Business Forum. Many have travelled from Nigeria to explore partnerships in agriculture, manufacturing, energy, maritime logistics, finance, technology and other sectors.

Amid the formal panels and scheduled business meetings, one subject has repeatedly found its way into our informal conversations: Nigeria’s proposed requirement that raw materials receive at least 30 per cent domestic value addition before export. I was amazed by how engaged the delegates were. They did not dispute the diagnosis behind the proposal. On the contrary, there was broad frustration with an economic structure in which Nigeria exports cocoa beans but imports branded chocolate; ships minerals abroad but purchases the machinery and industrial components produced from them; and supplies raw materials while employment, technology and processing margins accumulate elsewhere.

The desire to retain more value in Nigeria is real. It is not an abstract policy slogan. It is shared by entrepreneurs who want to manufacture, exporters who want to move up the value chain and professionals who understand the opportunities Nigeria loses when productive conversion happens elsewhere.

Yet the more we discussed the proposed legislation, the clearer the central question became:

Can Nigeria require value addition before it has built the factory, supplied the electricity, financed the machinery and secured the buyer?

The principle deserves support. The instrument requires careful design.

Breakfast and the cocoa question

Our breakfast conversation was particularly relevant in Belgium. Belgium occupies an important place in the international cocoa and chocolate economy. Nigerian cocoa enters European supply chains through ports, warehouses, traders and processors. Yet much of the highest commercial value is created after the commodity has left the producing country. Nobody around the table argued that this pattern should continue indefinitely.

But cocoa also illustrates why a universal percentage can create more questions than answers. What constitutes 30 per cent value addition? Is it measured by weight, production cost, market value or processing stage? Does fermenting, drying and grading cocoa qualify? Must beans be converted into liquor, butter or powder? Would finished chocolate be required? At which point has the statutory threshold been crossed?

The same difficulty appears across other commodities. Cutting and polishing a mineral is not equivalent to refining it into an industrial input. Processing sesame, cashew, timber or lithium requires different technologies, energy requirements, capital commitments and markets. A single percentage may offer political simplicity while producing commercial confusion.

My view, shared by several delegates, is that Nigeria needs commodity-specific value-chain assessments before imposing restrictions. For each product, the government should establish existing processing capacity, energy requirements, technology gaps, access to finance, viable markets and the time businesses will need to adjust. Thirty per cent may be achievable for one commodity, insufficiently ambitious for another and temporarily impractical for a third. Industrial policy must be bold enough to change behaviour but sophisticated enough to recognise different economic realities.

At lunch, electricity entered the conversation

By lunchtime, our conversation had moved from the legal requirement to the physical conditions of production. Factories do not run on legislation. Processing is energy-intensive. A Nigerian manufacturer operating with unreliable grid electricity and expensive self-generation may be legally required to add value but remain commercially unable to compete with a foreign processor enjoying dependable and cheaper power. This is not a theoretical concern.

Across Africa, governments are using export restrictions, tax incentives and access to mineral deposits to encourage local processing. Investors broadly understand the ambition. But they repeatedly identify affordable and dependable electricity as a decisive constraint. South Africa possesses enormous mineral reserves yet has lost much of its ferrochrome-processing capacity as electricity costs and reliability undermined competitiveness. Guinea has become a leading bauxite producer but will need several times its present electricity generation to realise its aluminium-processing ambitions.

The lesson for Nigeria is straightforward. For every commodity made subject to a processing obligation, the government should publish an accompanying industrial-capacity plan. It should address electricity, water, industrial land, transport, storage, waste management and access to the relevant technology. Otherwise, the policy would not create value addition. It would simply transfer Nigeria’s infrastructure deficit to producers and exporters. Power must precede prohibition.

The machinery still needs finance

Finance became the next subject. Domestic processing requires machinery, construction finance and working capital. Exporters must hold inventory through longer production cycles. Small farmers and artisanal producers need aggregation systems capable of delivering consistent volumes and quality. Yet the structure of Nigerian finance remains poorly suited to long-term industrial development.

A processor cannot sensibly finance machinery with short-term, high-cost credit. An international investor cannot price a twenty-year project if electricity tariffs, export rules or foreign-exchange arrangements may change after construction begins. The Federal Government has said that private capital should finance Nigeria’s next phase of growth rather than additional sovereign borrowing. That is a reasonable objective. But private investors will not finance industrial transformation merely because the government prefers private capital. They will require investable projects, appropriate finance, capable counterparties, predictable rules and credible routes to market.

Nigeria must therefore connect the value-addition proposal to credit guarantees, equipment leasing, development-finance facilities, export credit and blended-finance structures. The purpose should not be to subsidise factories indefinitely. It should be to bridge the difficult period between industrial ambition and commercially sustainable production. This is also where Belgian and Luxembourg institutions can contribute. Belgium brings industrial technology, logistics, commodity-market knowledge, and access to European buyers. Luxembourg brings expertise in investment funds, cross-border finance and structured capital. But those capabilities must be organised around real projects, not general expressions of interest.

Dinner and the danger facing primary producers

Our dinner discussion turned to the people most likely to be overlooked: farmers, miners and other primary producers. An export restriction introduced before domestic processors can absorb available production may reduce competition for raw materials. Farm-gate or mine-gate prices could fall. Large processors might gain access to captive supply while smaller producers lose the option of selling to foreign buyers. That would transform a policy presented as economic sovereignty into a transfer of income from primary producers to protected processors. Nigeria must not allow that to happen.

Before applying restrictions, the government should conduct transparent domestic-capacity tests. If local processors cannot purchase available production at commercially reasonable prices, producers should retain access to export markets. Independent monitoring should publish domestic processing capacity, utilisation rates, purchasing volumes, producer prices, and export demand. The purpose of value addition is to enlarge national income. It is not to redistribute existing income towards a small group of industrial beneficiaries.

My conversations with European counterparts

The responsibility does not rest with Nigeria alone. In my conversations with European counterparts during the forum, I have made the point that Europe cannot praise African industrialisation while preserving commercial arrangements that favour the importation of unprocessed African commodities. European buyers can support processing in Nigeria through long-term purchase agreements. Equipment manufacturers can provide training, maintenance and local assembly. Financial institutions can offer patient capital and risk-sharing. Importers and standards bodies can help Nigerian companies meet European safety, traceability and environmental requirements before new factories begin production.

Belgium is particularly relevant. Its ports, cocoa industry, commodity-trading networks, industrial engineering, and logistics capabilities connect directly to Nigerian value chains. However, a fair industrial partnership must go beyond selling European machinery into Nigeria. It should develop Nigerian suppliers, train engineers, transfer knowledge and guarantee meaningful market access for the processed products those factories eventually produce. Fair trade is not achieved merely when Africa processes more. It is achieved when African processed goods can enter valuable markets and compete on reasonable terms.

Not every factory must be national

Another point arising from our discussions concerned regional scale. Not every African country can efficiently process every commodity. Some industrial facilities require volumes, power and markets larger than one national economy can provide. AfCFTA should therefore form part of the value-addition architecture.

Nigeria could host facilities supplied partly by neighbouring producers. Another African country may develop specialist processing capacity serving Nigerian enterprises. Regional power pools, transport corridors, and harmonised standards can make investments viable where isolated national projects cannot. The objective should be African value addition. It should not be 54 countries attempting to reproduce every stage of every value chain. Economic sovereignty is strengthened through strategic interdependence, not industrial isolation.

The conversation after the forum

The engagement of our delegates has convinced me that Nigeria’s business community is ready for a serious value-addition conversation. These entrepreneurs are not asking to preserve an extractive economic model. Many want to manufacture, process and export higher-value goods. They understand that Nigeria cannot achieve prosperity by remaining principally a supplier of raw materials. But they also know from experience that ambition without infrastructure becomes another cost imposed on enterprise.

Nigeria’s proposed legislation begins with the correct diagnosis. Exporting unprocessed resources indefinitely will not create the jobs, technology, and productive capabilities the country needs. But diagnosis is not execution. A functioning value-addition strategy requires a complete conversion chain: Raw-material endowment, reliable power, processing technology, appropriate finance, skilled operators, competitive logistics, verified standards, committed buyers and measurable national value.

Break any link and the percentage mandate may become an obstacle rather than an industrial policy. Nigeria should therefore implement the proposed requirement gradually and commodity by commodity. It should publish capacity assessments, protect primary producers, provide realistic transition periods and connect export restrictions to measurable infrastructure and financing milestones.

As we break into two groups for company visits, one heading for Antwerp to take a tour around cocoa handling, warehousing, and logistics, and the other heading for Kortrijk to visit technology, innovation, and industrial hubs, I hope the Couch Conversation will be consistent. Success should not be measured by the volume of raw exports prevented. It should be measured by factories operating, workers trained, domestic suppliers developed, processed products exported, and national income increased. As our breakfast, lunch, and dinner conversations repeatedly reminded me, 30 per cent can be written into legislation. The factory, the electricity, the finance, and the market must still be built.

. Nweke is an International Trade Consultant and author of Economic Diplomacy of the Diaspora. A former Belgian politician of Nigerian origin, born in Igbuzo, Delta State, Nigeria, he was a 2014 candidate for Member of the European Parliament. A third-term Municipal Legislator at Ostend City Council, Belgium, since 2006, his portfolio included the Economy, Social Policy, Equality Affairs and International Development. Collins features regularly on TV Continental Lagos as Global Affairs Analyst, on Channels TV as Foreign Policy Commentator, on TRT World Istanbul as African Affairs Analyst, among other Afrocentric media houses, including BusinessDay Nigeria

Nigeria stands today at a decisive inflexion point in its democratic journey. The nation’s political landscape is increasingly defined not by the loudness of electoral participation but by the silence of abstention. The politics of no-vote-often dismissed as apathy-has matured into a potent political signal, a collective expression of disillusionment, distrust, and frustration with a system perceived as unresponsive to the needs of its people. This phenomenon is not merely a democratic inconvenience; it is a structural warning that Nigeria’s political and economic foundations are under strain.

In a country where economic development and sustainability are urgent imperatives, the rise of no-vote politics threatens to weaken the very mechanisms required to achieve national progress. Democracy thrives on participation, legitimacy, and accountability. When citizens withdraw their consent through abstention, the democratic engine slows, governance becomes fragile, and economic transformation becomes increasingly elusive. Nigeria must therefore confront this challenge with intellectual honesty, institutional courage, and strategic foresight.

Understanding the politics of no-vote

The politics of no-vote is not a passive act of indifference. It is an assertive political stance rooted in accumulated disappointments. Many Nigerians have come to believe that voting does not produce meaningful change, a perception shaped by decades of electoral irregularities, unfulfilled promises, and governance failures. The ballot box, once a symbol of hope, has become for many a symbol of futility.

This disillusionment is particularly pronounced among the youth, whose political energy has migrated from polling units to digital platforms. Social media has become a theatre of civic expression, where frustrations are aired, movements are mobilised, and alternative visions of governance are debated. Yet this digital vibrancy contrasts sharply with declining physical participation in elections. The youth, who constitute a significant portion of Nigeria’s population, now engage politically without engaging electorally.

Regional disparities further complicate the landscape. Communities that feel historically marginalised or economically neglected often abstain from voting as a symbolic protest. Their silence is a message: the system does not serve them, and participation feels pointless. When such sentiments become widespread, they weaken national cohesion and erode the legitimacy of democratic institutions.

The economic consequences of no-vote politics

Democracy and economic development are inseparable. A disengaged electorate produces leaders with weakened mandates, undermining the stability required for economic growth. Investors-both domestic and foreign-monitor voter turnout as an indicator of political stability. Low participation signals uncertainty, discouraging long-term investments and slowing economic progress.

Policy continuity, essential for sustainable development, becomes fragile when electoral outcomes are shaped by disengagement rather than robust participation. Leaders elected by a minority of eligible voters often struggle to implement transformative policies, lacking the broad public mandate necessary for bold reforms. This fragility disrupts long-term planning, weakens institutions, and creates an environment where economic policies are easily reversed or abandoned.

Political disengagement also erodes accountability. Leaders who do not fear electoral consequences may become complacent, allowing corruption to flourish. Corruption undermines economic development, widens inequality, and perpetuates poverty. Communities that abstain from voting lose political leverage, becoming invisible in policy formulation and resource allocation. Their economic marginalisation deepens, creating a vicious cycle of disengagement and deprivation.

Thought processes behind no-vote behaviour

To address the politics of no-vote, Nigeria must understand the psychological and social dynamics that drive it. Many citizens believe their votes do not count, a perception reinforced by historical electoral malpractice. Others feel that all politicians are indistinguishable, lacking ideological diversity or moral distinction. This belief fosters cynicism and discourages participation.

Another prevailing thought is that democracy has not improved daily life. Citizens judge governance by tangible outcomes-jobs, security, infrastructure, fairness. When these outcomes remain elusive, democracy itself becomes suspect. The perception that the system is rigged against ordinary people further fuels disengagement, creating a sense of powerlessness.

Digital participation also shapes no-vote behaviour. Many young Nigerians feel more empowered through online activism than through voting. Social media provides immediate visibility and influence, whereas electoral participation feels distant and ineffective. This shift in civic engagement must be understood and addressed if Nigeria is to revitalise its democratic culture.

The link between democracy, economic development, and sustainability

Nigeria’s democratic health cannot be separated from its economic realities. Sustainable development requires stable institutions, predictable policies, and inclusive growth. Democracy provides the framework for these outcomes, but only when citizens participate meaningfully. A disengaged electorate weakens institutions, undermines policy continuity, and erodes public trust.

Economic development thrives in environments where the rule of law is respected, public institutions are transparent, and leadership is accountable. These conditions attract investment, stimulate innovation, and promote equitable growth. Sustainability, in turn, demands responsible resource management, climate-resilient infrastructure, and long-term planning. Nigeria’s vast natural resources, youthful population, and emerging digital economy offer immense potential, but this potential cannot be realised without a stable and participatory democratic system.

Solutions: Re-engineering Nigeria’s democratic and economic future

Nigeria must adopt a comprehensive strategy to reverse the politics of no-vote and strengthen democratic sustainability. Rebuilding trust in electoral processes is paramount. Transparent systems, secure digital technologies, and strong institutional independence are essential. Electoral malpractice must be met with strict penalties, and real-time monitoring should be made accessible to the public to enhance transparency.

Civic education must be revitalised. Citizens need to understand how voting influences economic outcomes and national development. Schools, religious institutions, and digital platforms should be leveraged to promote democratic participation. Influencers and community leaders can play a vital role in reshaping public perceptions of voting.

Governance performance must improve. Citizens disengage when leadership fails to deliver. Governments must prioritise policies that directly impact daily life-job creation, security, healthcare, and infrastructure. Performance-based governance metrics and quarterly scorecards can enhance accountability and rebuild trust.

Economic reforms are critical for inclusive growth. Nigeria must expand opportunities in the digital economy, strengthen small and medium-scale enterprises, and implement regional development plans to reduce inequality. Green industries and sustainable agriculture should be promoted to align economic growth with environmental stewardship.

Technology offers powerful tools for democratic sustainability. AI-driven platforms can facilitate public consultations, while blockchain can enhance transparency in public finance. Digital town halls can bridge the gap between leaders and citizens, fostering dialogue and trust.

Essentially, Nigeria must strengthen its social contract. National unity requires inclusive dialogue, recognition of historical grievances, and the promotion of shared national narratives. Democracy thrives when citizens feel heard, valued, and included.

A new democratic imagination for Nigeria

Nigeria stands at a crossroads. The politics of no-vote is a warning sign, signalling that citizens are losing faith in the democratic process. To build a sustainable future, Nigeria must re-imagine democracy as a continuous, participatory, and economically productive system. A sustainable democracy is one where citizens feel heard, leaders are accountable, institutions are strong, and economic opportunities are widespread.

The next chapter of Nigeria’s democratic evolution will depend on whether the nation can transform no-vote politics into renewed civic engagement and align democratic governance with economic development and sustainability. The stakes are high, but the possibilities are immense. Nigeria must seize this moment to build a democracy that works, an economy that grows, and a future that endures.

Conclusion

The politics of no-vote is not a trivial trend; it is a profound democratic alarm. Nigeria cannot afford to ignore it. The nation’s economic aspirations, sustainability goals, and democratic stability depend on revitalising citizen participation. A democracy without voters is a democracy without legitimacy, and a nation without legitimacy cannot build a resilient economy or a sustainable future.

Nigeria must therefore confront this challenge with urgency and resolve. By rebuilding trust, strengthening institutions, enhancing governance performance, and expanding economic opportunities, the nation can transform political disengagement into renewed civic energy. The future of Nigeria’s democracy-and its economic destiny-depends on the choices made today.

.Ademola is first African Professor of Cybersecurity and Information Technology Management; Global Education Advocate; Chartered Manager; UK Digital Journalist; Strategic Advisor and Prophetic Mobiliser for National Transformation; Public Intellectual; African Governance Thinker; General Evangelist, CAC Nigeria and Overseas.