When former Central Bank of Nigeria governor, Muhammadu Sanusi II, recently questioned the logic of continued borrowing after the removal of petrol subsidy, he was not merely stirring political debate—he was raising a fundamental economic concern. If a major fiscal burden has been lifted, why does borrowing continue at such an accelerated pace? More importantly, where are the gains?
Since assuming office on May 29, 2023, Bola Ahmed Tinubu has anchored his economic reform agenda on two defining policies: the removal of petrol subsidy and a commitment to fiscal restructuring. The subsidy removal was swift and decisive. The expected fiscal clarity that should follow, however, remains elusive.
The numbers tell a compelling story and Sanusi as an economist and finance expert knows what he is talking about.
At the time Tinubu took office, Nigeria’s total public debt stood at approximately ₦87.38 trillion. By the end of 2025, that figure had risen to about ₦159.28 trillion, according to official figures from the Debt Management Office. This represents an increase of over ₦70 trillion in just over two years—an expansion that has few precedents in Nigeria’s fiscal history.
Broken down further, Nigeria’s debt now translates to roughly ₦700,000 per citizen when spread across an estimated population of over 220 million people. While this does not mean Nigerians will receive individual bills, it underscores a deeper reality: public debt ultimately becomes a collective burden, serviced through taxes, revenues, and future economic output.
This raises a central question: what exactly has subsidy removal achieved?
Before its removal, petrol subsidy was widely criticised as fiscally unsustainable, costing trillions of naira annually. The Tinubu administration justified its removal on the basis that it would free up significant resources for development, reduce fiscal leakages, and create room for investment in critical sectors.
Yet nearly two years later, Nigerians are still asking a simple question: where are the savings?
If subsidy removal has created fiscal space, that space should be visible—either in reduced borrowing or in clearly identifiable improvements in public spending. Instead, borrowing has intensified. The administration has pursued multiple loan approvals running into tens of billions of dollars, alongside additional requests to fund infrastructure projects.
There have also been mixed signals from within the government on the issue of borrowing. At different times, officials have suggested caution in approaching institutions such as the IMF, even as the administration continues to pursue both domestic and external loans. These inconsistencies only deepen public uncertainty and reinforce the need for a coherent, transparent borrowing strategy.
To be clear, borrowing is not inherently problematic. Governments across the world borrow to finance development and stimulate growth. But borrowing becomes a concern when it is not matched by transparency, clarity of purpose, and measurable outcomes.
It is precisely on this issue of transparency that the current debate becomes more pressing.
The presidency’s response, largely articulated by Daniel Bwala, has done little to settle public concerns. In reacting to Sanusi, Bwala stated that the government is “simply borrowing to invest in critical sectors,” particularly infrastructure, arguing that Nigeria requires between $30 billion and $100 billion annually to bridge its infrastructure gap and that “what we have is insufficient.”
On the surface, this appears to be a reasonable policy explanation. But on closer scrutiny, it raises more questions than it answers.
First, the response is broad but not specific. It speaks in generalities—“infrastructure,” “investment,” “deficit”—without providing concrete figures. Nigerians are not asking whether infrastructure is important; they are asking for details. How much has been realised from subsidy removal? How much has been allocated to infrastructure? Which projects are being funded with these loans? Without such specifics, the explanation sounds more like a justification than a clear answer.
Second, the response does not directly address Sanusi’s core concern: the apparent contradiction between subsidy savings and continued borrowing. If subsidy removal has freed up significant fiscal resources, why is that not reflected in reduced borrowing needs? Simply stating that “what we have is insufficient” sidesteps the issue rather than confronting it.
Third, credibility matters. In a country where public trust in government is already fragile, communication must go beyond social media soundbites. Nigerians expect detailed, data-backed explanations—not broad assurances. Until such clarity is provided, official responses risk being perceived not as answers, but as deflections.
Yet, beyond the immediate debate lies a deeper question of consistency.
In July 2014, then opposition leader Bola Ahmed Tinubu strongly criticised the administration of Goodluck Ebele Jonathan over a proposed $1 billion loan. His words were unequivocal.
He questioned the rationale behind the borrowing, asking whether Nigerians truly knew what the loan was meant for. He warned that such borrowing could be misused, arguing that it might serve political rather than national interests. In his most striking assertion, he suggested that the loan could be used to undermine democracy rather than strengthen national security.
Those statements were made in a different political context, but they were rooted in a principle that remains relevant today: borrowing without transparency invites suspicion.
Today, Tinubu is no longer the critic; he is the decision-maker. With borrowing now running into tens of billions of dollars under his administration—and with the 2027 elections approaching—it is reasonable to ask: by his own earlier standard, how should Nigerians interpret the current borrowing trajectory?
This is not an accusation. It is a question of consistency. If the absence of clarity justified suspicion in 2014, it is equally valid for Nigerians to demand clarity today.
The government’s defence that borrowing is necessary to address Nigeria’s infrastructure deficit is not without merit. Roads, power systems, rail networks, and public utilities require substantial investment. But even this justification returns us to the same unresolved issue: transparency.
If borrowing is for infrastructure, Nigerians should be able to see clearly what is being funded, how much is allocated, what timelines are attached, and what outcomes are expected. Without this level of detail, the borrowing narrative remains incomplete.
Another critical dimension is the long-term implication of Nigeria’s rising debt burden. Public debt is not just a fiscal statistic; it represents future obligations. As debt grows, so does the cost of servicing it. When a significant portion of government revenue is used to service debt, less remains for development priorities.
In effect, today’s borrowing becomes tomorrow’s constraint.
The concern, therefore, is not simply about how much Nigeria is borrowing, but whether that borrowing is sustainable, efficient, and beneficial in the long run.
This is where Sanusi’s intervention becomes particularly important. His question cuts through political rhetoric and focuses on a simple economic reality: fiscal decisions must add up.
If subsidy has been removed, and if savings have been realised, Nigerians should see the results—not just in policy pronouncements, but in numbers, projects, and outcomes.
Transparency is not optional. It is essential.
The Tinubu administration has argued that its reforms are necessary to stabilise the economy and lay the foundation for long-term growth. That may well be the case. But reforms, no matter how well-intentioned, cannot succeed without public trust. And trust is built on clarity.
Sanusi’s question, therefore, should not be dismissed. It should be answered—clearly, comprehensively, and with evidence.
If Nigeria must borrow, let Nigerians see why. If subsidy removal has yielded savings, let those savings be transparently accounted for. And if the current fiscal path is sustainable, let the data speak for itself.
Anything less leaves too many questions unanswered—and too much uncertainty about the future. In the end, the issue is not just about borrowing. It is about accountability, consistency, and credibility. And in matters of public finance, credibility is everything.
Akinsuyi, former group politics editor of the Daily Independent, writes from the United Kingdom. He can be reached at shabydayo@gmail.com
