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Democracy, GDP growth, poverty, and insecurity in Nigeria

Magnus Onyibe 1

AFTER twenty-six years of uninterrupted democratic governance in Nigeria (1999 to date), the masses had hoped to be enjoying the dividends of democracy by now—primarily through poverty alleviation and improved living standards. However, for a significant number of Nigerians, that dream has remained elusive. Rather than experiencing prosperity, many continue to grapple with poverty, hunger, and rising hardship.

This harsh reality persists despite the leadership efforts of five presidents since Nigeria’s return to democracy: Olusegun Obasanjo (1999–2007), the late Umaru Musa Yar’Adua (2007–2010), Goodluck Jonathan (2010–2015), Muhammadu Buhari (2015–2023), and Bola Ahmed Tinubu (2023–present).

Over these 26 years, Nigeria’s economy has witnessed both periods of remarkable growth and phases of stagnation. The nation’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP)—a key indicator of economic productivity—has seen notable fluctuations. For example, during Jonathan’s administration, GDP growth peaked at around 8%, largely driven by high global crude oil prices that exceeded $100 per barrel. In contrast, under the current Tinubu administration, GDP growth hovers around 3.4%, with oil prices now ranging between $65 and $80 per barrel.

Yet, despite these varying levels of economic performance, the expected transformation in the lives of average Nigerians has not materialised. The dividends of democracy remain out of reach for the majority, as poverty continues to define daily life for many.

This disconnect is further highlighted by data from a report commissioned by the Buhari administration. According to the 2022 Multidimensional Poverty Index (MPI), a staggering 63% of Nigerians—approximately 133 million people—were classified as multidimensionally poor before Tinubu’s presidency. This means a significant portion of the population suffers from deprivation not just in income, but across multiple areas, including healthcare, education, living conditions, and access to work or protection from economic shocks.

In essence, despite positive macroeconomic indicators like GDP growth, the lived experience of most Nigerians tells a different story. This gap between economic statistics and street-level reality is a recurring dilemma in development economics—one that policymakers struggle to explain to populations undergoing structural reforms while still mired in daily hardship.

While government officials and economic advisers may celebrate rising GDP as evidence of progress, ordinary Nigerians are more concerned about their ability to afford food, pay rent, access medical care, and meet transportation costs. Today, with the naira severely devalued and denominations like ₦5, ₦10, and ₦20 effectively worthless, it’s difficult for citizens to believe in slogans like “Renewed Hope” when their basic needs remain unmet.

Many are overwhelmed by hunger and homelessness, with inflation making essential goods and services increasingly unaffordable. In such a context, official rhetoric about economic growth sounds abstract—if not completely alien—to the struggling masses.

This stark mismatch between government optimism and popular despair explains why many Nigerians feel disillusioned. After 26 years of democracy, they expected a nation on the path to prosperity. Instead, they are left questioning whether the system has truly worked for them.

The situation described above is the current reality for most Nigerians. This has compelled me to take a closer look at the disconnect between rising GDP figures and the persistent poverty experienced by citizens. Specifically, I aim to explore why economic growth—reflected in higher GDP—does not automatically translate into an improved standard of living or immediate poverty reduction.

This reality contradicts the assumptions held by many Nigerians who mistakenly believe that GDP growth will swiftly lead to poverty eradication. In truth, and largely unknown to the general public, poverty reduction requires the convergence of multiple factors working together in sync. Until these elements align harmoniously, the so-called dividends of democracy will not effectively reach the grassroots.

To put it simply, GDP tends to measure the concentration of wealth, typically in the hands of the elite. Unless that wealth is reinvested in productive ventures that generate employment and include the poor, poverty reduction remains elusive—more a dream than a measurable outcome.

Through this piece, I aim to clarify the often misunderstood relationship between GDP, poverty, and insecurity. Without a clear understanding of these links, ordinary Nigerians will continue to feel disconnected from government proclamations about economic progress, especially when those claims don’t align with their daily struggles.

For the average citizen, rising GDP means little if food remains unaffordable, transportation costs are unbearable, and basic needs like housing and healthcare are out of reach. Until the cost-of-living crisis eases and daily life becomes less punishing, many will continue to mockingly refer to President Tinubu as “T-Pain”—a nickname that emerged in response to the painful, short-term effects of his reform agenda.

Yet, it’s important to note that economic reforms take time. There is always a gestation period before policies yield tangible results. Because these reforms require a complex mix of socio-economic factors to align, public patience understandably wears thin, especially among those struggling to survive.

This article is my attempt to bridge the gap between policy architects and the masses. By using relatable examples, I hope to shed light on how economic development works, and why GDP growth doesn’t always equate to immediate poverty reduction.

Take, for example, the $20 billion Dangote Refinery in Lekki, Lagos. While this mega-project will undoubtedly boost Nigeria’s GDP, it does not directly create a large number of jobs for low-income earners, as it is capital-intensive and employs mainly high-skilled labour. In contrast, the ongoing construction of the 750-kilometre Lagos-Calabar coastal highway by Hitech Construction will have a more immediate impact on poverty reduction. Road construction tends to be labour-intensive and creates a wide array of job opportunities—from engineers and skilled technicians to informal workers, food vendors, and even homeowners renting rooms to labourers along the project corridor.

These examples illustrate a crucial point: economic growth and poverty alleviation are not always simultaneous or automatic. They often unfold in phases, depending on how different sectors interlink and how policies are implemented and sustained over time.

Ultimately, the lengthy implementation period of reforms often leads to public frustration, especially when politicians have raised expectations during campaigns with ambitious promises. Sadly, this pattern has become a recurring problem in Nigeria, and it is the root of the disillusionment currently gripping the nation.

When President Bola Tinubu returned to Lagos for the first time a few months after assuming office, it was expected to be a celebratory homecoming. However, the mood was quickly sobered when he was met by chants of “ebin kpa wa”—Yoruba for “we are hungry”—from frustrated Lagos youths.

This public outcry likely struck a chord with Tinubu, who, as a former governor of Lagos and a native son of the state, could not ignore such a message. In response, his administration swiftly removed import duties on food items to ease the skyrocketing cost of living, worsened by the elimination of subsidies on petrol and the naira. These decisions, although economically necessary, triggered a widespread cost-of-living crisis that continues to burden millions of Nigerians.

Adding to the crisis is the escalating insecurity in rural areas, where farmers are unable to work their land due to fear of attacks—resulting in declining food production and worsening scarcity.

During his most recent 10-day visit to Lagos to celebrate Sallah, President Tinubu, now midway through his term, acknowledged that food prices remain high and that many citizens are suffering economic hardship. To his credit, he did not attempt to downplay the challenges Nigerians face. He reminded the public that he inherited a nation in financial distress, and that the reforms he introduced—though painful—were necessary to stabilise the country.

There are valid arguments suggesting that, without these reforms, Nigeria could have spiralled into a crisis akin to Venezuela’s—a fellow oil-rich nation plagued by economic collapse, a classic case of the “resource curse.” Tinubu’s government has sought to reverse decades of flawed policies—such as fuel, currency, and electricity subsidies—that were originally introduced as temporary solutions but eventually became entrenched, contributing to Nigeria’s long-term underdevelopment over its nearly 65 years of independence.

In his Democracy Day speech on June 12, Tinubu reaffirmed his identity as a progressive by honouring 66 of his fellow democracy activists with national awards—individuals who fought alongside him for the restoration of civilian rule after years of military dictatorship. He also admitted that Nigeria has not yet become the prosperous nation its people hope for, but assured citizens that relief is on the way through new programs and projects aimed at addressing their struggles.

Yet, as the saying goes, “talk is cheap.” For many Nigerians, government rhetoric—amplified since May 29 through widespread media campaigns showcasing the administration’s midterm achievements—rings hollow. A significant gap remains between official claims of progress and the harsh realities felt by ordinary citizens across the country.

This disconnect between rising GDP figures and deepening poverty is not unique to Nigeria; it’s a global challenge. Economists have long debated why economic growth doesn’t automatically reduce poverty. Several theories attempt to explain this:

The gap between GDP growth and actual improvements in people’s lives is due to complex and often overlooked factors. To make this clearer, I drew an analogy between two major projects: the Dangote Refinery and the Lagos-Calabar Coastal Highway by Hitech Construction. While the refinery significantly boosts Nigeria’s GDP through high-value industrial output, it creates relatively few jobs for low-income earners. On the other hand, the highway project—though smaller in GDP impact—generates widespread employment for engineers, labourers, vendors, and local landlords, offering more direct poverty relief.

This comparison helps illustrate the subtle but crucial difference between economic growth and equitable development—something policymakers must keep in mind when designing reforms intended to benefit all Nigerians, not just a privileged few.

GDP growth doesn’t automatically result in fair wealth distribution. Often, the benefits are concentrated among a privileged few, leaving the wider population with limited access to opportunities and resources. A prime example is the $20 billion Dangote Refinery—while it boosts GDP, it risks deepening income inequality unless the benefits are widely shared.

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