When the World Bank announced that 139 million Nigerians are now living in poverty, it was not merely releasing statistics; it was sounding an alarm bell for a nation that has perfected the art of celebrating hollow reforms while its people drown in misery. This figure is not just a number; it represents human despair on a continental scale. It paints a portrait of hunger, hopelessness, and helplessness that mocks every so-called economic achievement paraded by those in power.
For decades, Nigeria has danced around the fire of economic reform, only to end up getting burnt by its own inefficiency. The World Bank may praise Nigeria’s “bold reforms” on fuel subsidy removal and exchange rate unification, but those praises ring hollow in the ears of citizens who cannot afford bread, let alone fuel. A nation cannot claim progress when its people are slipping deeper into destitution. What is economic growth worth when the stomach of the average Nigerian remains empty?
Mathew Verghis may have meant well when he said Nigeria has “laid the foundation for transforming its economic trajectory,” but one cannot build skyscrapers on sinking sand. The so-called macroeconomic stability is a mirage when 139 million citizens are living below the poverty line. If Nigeria’s economy is “stabilizing,” then one must ask: for whom? Because the street trader, the farmer, the teacher, and the artisan see no stability—only suffering in new packaging.
The tragedy of Nigeria is not in its lack of reforms but in the absence of reformers with compassion. For every economic policy that looks good on paper, there are millions of hungry mouths that tell a different story. What use is a growing foreign reserve when the people cannot reserve a single meal a day? What joy is there in stabilizing the naira when inflation devours salaries faster than termites devour wood? Nigeria’s economy is growing at the top while rotting at the bottom.
It is laughable, and yet heartbreaking, that while the World Bank congratulates Nigeria for “rising revenues,” millions of citizens are sinking in debt just to survive. The common man’s economy is in tatters. Transport fares have tripled, food prices have soared beyond logic, and wages have remained as stagnant as a forgotten pond. The government may be celebrating “big achievements,” but the people are left clutching empty pockets and broken dreams.
To make matters worse, Nigeria now wears the global crown of shame — the country with the lowest life expectancy in the world. Yes, the same Nigeria that boasts of reforms and “rising indicators” has become the graveyard of human potential. A nation where people die young, not because of war, but because of neglect. Nigeria ranking below Chad and South Sudan in life expectancy should haunt every policymaker who claims to serve the people.
What kind of reform keeps citizens alive on paper but dead in reality? What kind of government presides over a country where hunger is a language spoken by every household? The life expectancy ranking is not just a reflection of poor healthcare; it is the sum total of a failed system — from corruption to unemployment, from insecurity to decayed infrastructure. It tells the story of a people abandoned by those who swore to protect them.
And as if that were not enough, Nigeria also ranks among the worst countries in the world for women’s safety. What a shameful contradiction! The same nation that prides itself as the “giant of Africa” has become a land where women walk in fear, where dreams are strangled by insecurity, and where survival is a daily miracle. If the measure of a nation’s progress is how it treats its women, then Nigeria is a patient in an intensive care unit.
Then there is Lagos, the so-called “Centre of Excellence,” now listed among the 40 worst cities in the world for quality of life. How ironic that the city touted as Nigeria’s economic engine is running on fumes. Lagos is a concrete jungle where wealth and want coexist like oil and water. Beneath the glamour of skyscrapers lies the grit of human suffering — choked roads, polluted air, and unaffordable housing.
The irony of Nigeria’s situation is as glaring as the midday sun. While the elite debate foreign exchange rates, the masses debate how to feed their children. While technocrats boast of “macro-stability,” the poor wonder why their lives are deteriorating. It is as though Nigeria’s leaders are building castles in the air while the citizens are digging trenches of survival.
Economic reforms that do not translate into food on the table are nothing but academic exercises. Policies must speak the language of the people. The essence of reform is not to win applause from global institutions but to win back the dignity of human life. Nigeria’s problem is not a lack of plans but the plague of implementation without empathy.
The World Bank has offered a three-point strategy: tame inflation, improve spending efficiency, and expand social safety nets. But these will remain mere bullet points on glossy documents unless Nigeria confronts its greatest enemies — corruption, waste, and policy inconsistency. A government that cannot manage its wealth cannot manage its people.
Nigeria stands today at a moral crossroads. It can either continue celebrating deceptive statistics or choose to confront its naked truth — that millions are living in conditions unworthy of human dignity. The time has come for leaders to stop governing with spreadsheets and start governing with conscience.
Until the fruits of reform reach the dinner tables of ordinary Nigerians, every talk of economic recovery will remain a tale told by the privileged, full of sound and numbers, signifying nothing.
Stanley Ugagbe can be reached via stanleyakomeno@gmail.com
