Taraba State Debt Profile hit N1.2 trillion, N50 billion from(UBA) and $268.63 million loan from the ECOWAS Bank – Former law Maker
In a bold and emotional open letter addressed to the Taraba State House of Assembly, elders, youth leaders, and political stakeholders, former lawmaker Hon. Danjuma Usman Shiddi (Danji SS) has raised alarm over what he describes as the growing financial recklessness and unchecked borrowing in Taraba State.
According to Shiddi, Taraba is “quietly bleeding” under the weight of mounting debts and unaccounted funds. He accused the current administration of turning governance into “theatre and spectacle” while plunging the state into a debt trap that threatens its future.
The former House of Representatives member recalled how Governor Agbu Kefas’s free education policy in 2023 initially inspired hope among citizens. However, he lamented that despite a ₦17 billion contract reportedly awarded to procure uniforms and learning materials from China, there has been no visible result. “Where are the books, uniforms, and school facilities promised to our children?” he questioned.
Shiddi further alleged that the state has, in less than two years, taken loans and secured facilities totaling over ₦1.2 trillion including a ₦206.78 billion bank loan, a ₦350 billion bond, and a $268.63 million (₦510 billion) deal with the ECOWAS Bank for Investment and Development.
He pointed out that Taraba’s Internally Generated Revenue (IGR) for 2023 stood at only ₦10.87 billion, warning that the state cannot sustain such huge debts. “A state that earns ₦10 billion a year cannot repay ₦1.2 trillion without selling its soul,” he wrote.
The lawmaker expressed concern that despite receiving over ₦437 billion in federal allocations between mid-2023 and mid-2025, there is little on the ground to justify the expenditure. Roads remain in poor shape, schools are deteriorating, and hospitals are struggling, he said.
Citing comparisons, Shiddi noted that other states like Zamfara, Nasarawa, and Ogun have achieved progress by prioritizing internal revenue and investment, not loans. He urged Taraba leaders to learn from them.
He also called out the Taraba State House of Assembly for failing to exercise proper oversight, urging lawmakers to suspend all future loan approvals until full audited reports of previous borrowings are made public. “You were not elected to clap,” he reminded them. “Oversight is not rebellion; it is responsibility.”
Full text of the letter reads:
OPEN LETTER TO THE TARABA STATE HOUSE OF ASSEMBLY, LEADERS OF THOUGHT, SENIOR CITIZENS, YOUTH LEADERS, AND POLITICAL PARTY CRITICAL STAKEHOLDERS
A call for Accountability and Fiscal Responsibility in Taraba State
Our dear Taraba is quietly bleeding. The pulse of our state grows faint, and if one listens closely enough, one can hear the low groan of a people whose future is being mortgaged without their consent. We stand not merely at a political crossroads, but at the edge of a financial precipice — a silent crisis that, if left unchecked, will echo through generations to come.
Distinguished elders, representatives, and men and women of conscience, the time for silence has passed. I have written before — a humble attempt in June — and for daring to speak, I was vilified by those who feed on the wages of loyalty rather than the fruit of truth. My words were twisted, stripped of context, and clothed in malice to please their masters. Yet I am undeterred. I hold no bitterness. My quarrel is not with men, but with the system that has turned governance into theatre and leadership into a spectacle. This letter is a call to conscience. For every thinking Taraban knows that silence in times of moral danger is not neutrality — it is complicity. Our conscience must not sleep while our future is being traded in daylight.
Over the past two years, Taraba has become a kingdom of borrowing — a province of perpetual debt. Since I cannot whisper these truths into the ears of every leader, I must write them in ink that history cannot erase. What we face today is not merely the ambition of one man, but the recklessness of an entire system hurtling toward insolvency.
When Governor Agbu Kefas stood before the people in 2023 and declared free and compulsory education, many hearts swelled with hope. Parents exhaled. Children dreamed. He promised uniforms, textbooks, and relief from school fees. He declared an “emergency on education,” vowing that poverty would no longer bar a child from learning. It was noble. It was inspiring. But dreams, no matter how grand, must learn to walk — and this one has not taken a single step. Where is the ₦17 billion awarded to acquire uniforms and school items from China for school children? Where are the books, the desks, and the roofs over our children’s heads?
Absence of progress is painful, but it is at least honest. People can see failure, recognize emptiness, and demand correction. But when illusion replaces truth — when leaders manufacture the appearance of progress while decay deepens underneath — the tragedy becomes complete. For then, a state is not only robbed of its future, it is blinded from even knowing that it has been robbed.
In August 2023, the Taraba State House of Assembly approved a ₦206.78 billion loan from a consortium of banks — Zenith, UBA, Fidelity, and Keystone. The loan was divided among themselves as though Taraba were a carcass on a banker’s table. No one published the terms. No one explained the breakdown. And as though that were not enough, in March 2025, came the announcement of a ₦350 billion bond. By October of the same year, the state had signed a $268.63 million facility from the ECOWAS Bank for Investment and Development — roughly ₦510 billion at current exchange rates.
Add them all together, and the picture becomes chilling. In barely two years, the administration has borrowed or secured approvals exceeding ₦1.2 trillion — a staggering figure for a state whose Internally Generated Revenue in 2023 was only ₦10.87 billion. A state that earns ₦10.87 billion a year cannot repay ₦1.2 trillion without selling its soul. This is not governance; it is gambling — with our future, our children’s inheritance, and the faith of a people who trusted their leaders to act with restraint.
We are told that the EBID loan will fund energy, agriculture, and industrialization — beautiful promises indeed. But where are the projects? Where are they located? Who are the contractors? What are the timelines, and at what cost? No one knows. In Taraba, questions die before they are answered. Silence has become our official policy, and applause, our proof of progress.
According to the Federation Account Allocation Committee (FAAC), between June and December 2023, Taraba State received ₦50.21 billion in federal revenue, while its sixteen local government areas collectively received ₦31.95 billion. In just seven months, ₦82.16 billion entered the coffers of Taraba — a staggering amount for a state still struggling with basic infrastructure. In 2024, FAAC reports show the state received ₦108.56 billion, while the local governments shared ₦71.23 billion, totaling ₦179.79 billion. Yet the roads remain cratered, the schools dilapidated, hospitals gasping for breath, and workers lamenting unpaid wages.
By 2025, the inflows had grown even larger. Between January and June, the state government received ₦112.60 billion, while local governments received ₦62.66 billion by August — ₦175.26 billion in barely eight months. Adding it all up, from mid-2023 to mid-2025, Taraba State and its local councils have received ₦437.21 billion in federal allocations. Nearly half a trillion naira in just two years — excluding internally generated revenue, external grants, and the ₦50 billion loan reportedly taken from the United Bank for Africa for “local government infrastructure.”
So, where is the evidence of this fortune? What legacy can the people of Taraba point to as proof? With all of these allocations and facilities acquired, no tangible progress in site compared to the quantum of inflows to the state.
To truly see the scale of our decline, we must look backward. Under Governor Danbaba Suntai, Taraba maintained a cautious fiscal stance — external debt averaged about ＄18 million dollars in 2007 as provided from Debt Management Office. While under Governor Darius Ishaku, that restraint gave way to expansion: domestic debt rose from ₦14.6 billion in 2018 to ₦38.87 billion in 2019, ₦61.57 billion in 2020, and ₦105.98 billion by 2022. Today, under Governor Agbu Kefas, the debt remains high — ₦93.18 billion in 2023 and ₦87.96 billion in 2024. Meanwhile, monthly FAAC inflows in 2023 ranged between ₦5 billion to ₦8 billion per month, and Taraba’s internally generated revenue, according to the National Bureau of Statistics, was ₦10.87 billion — the third lowest in Nigeria. The gap between low IGR and heavy borrowing makes this path not just unsustainable, but ruinous.
To this deluge of revenue, add the ₦50 billion loan from UBA for “local government infrastructure.” Months later, there is little to show for it. Divided across sixteen councils, each now shoulders a debt of ₦3.125 billion, excluding interest. For councils that survive almost entirely on federal allocation, this is economic suicide.
Contrast this with the era of Darius Ishaku, who, between 2019 to 2023 (4 years), with budgets of around ₦400 billion — and an IGR hovering around ₦6 billion — still managed to deliver tangible progress: roads, schools, water schemes, and community projects. He governed within his means. The current administration governs within illusion. Allocations have doubled, loans have multiplied, yet development remains as scarce as integrity in the corridors of power.
The Taraba State recurrent expenditure for 2025 stands at ₦163.78 billion, accounting for 38.1% of the total budget, while capital expenditure is ₦266.12 billion, representing 61.9%. However, more recent figures show that the recurrent expenditure now accounts for 31.1% of the total budget of ₦574.8 billion after the supplementary budget, translating to approximately ₦178.82 billion. These numbers tell a story of expansion without accountability — of a budget that grows in size, yet shrinks in impact. The figures are large, but the progress they were meant to deliver remains invisible.
I now turn to the State House of Assembly — that hallowed chamber that too often mistakes applause for duty. Gentlemen, history is watching. You were not elected to clap. You were chosen to question, to check, and to act as the conscience of the state. Sections 128 and 129 of the Constitution empower you to summon, to investigate, and to demand answers. Why have you not? Why do commissioners roam unchecked and contractors vanish like mist at dawn? Each time you raise your hands to approve another loan without scrutiny, you sign another page in the story of our children’s enslavement.
Oversight is not rebellion; it is responsibility. If you cannot represent the truth, then you represent nothing.
Across the country, there are examples that should stir our pride. In Zamfara State, Governor Dauda Lawal rebuilds without loans, tapping into mining and agriculture. In Nasarawa State, Governor Abdullahi Sule courts investors, not creditors. In Ogun State, the government has generated over ₦126 billion in IGR this year alone. Taraba — rich in land, solid minerals, and people, richer than them all — remains a debtor. Why do we borrow what we can grow? Why do we silence those who speak and celebrate those who spend?
Our borrowing now exceeds what the state will earn in four years. This is not progress; it is plunder. It is the slow strangulation of a people who deserve better.
I therefore call upon the members of the Taraba State House of Assembly to halt all future loan approvals until audited reports of existing ones are made public. Let there be light where there has been darkness, and truth where there has been theatre. I call upon our elders and leaders of thought to counsel the Governor — to steer his vision toward productivity, not debt; to build through the wealth of our land, not the credit of our lenders.
Ogun State built its IGR to ₦126 billion — not by magic, but by will. Taraba can do the same, if only we remember that leadership is not theatre and governance is not applause.
Let posterity record that when Taraba was being drowned in silence, some of us raised our voices. Not out of malice, but out of love. Not out of anger, but out of duty. Because when truth dies, nations follow.
And so, I write. For silence, in the face of betrayal, is also a crime.
Hon. Danjuma Usman Shiddi (Danji, SS)
Member 8th and 9th Assembly
Nigeria House Of Representative’s
