BY MAY 29th, Nigeria’s current administration will mark three years in office. For many citizens, these years have felt like the most difficult stretch since the return to civilian rule in 1999. The phrase “dark years” captures not just economic hardship, but a broader sense of strain on institutions, trust, and national optimism.
Since May 29, 2023, when President Tinubu removed the fuel subsidy on inauguration day, the cloud over Nigeria’s democracy and economy has only grown thicker.
The recent kidnapping of school children and their teachers in Ogbomoso, Oyo State, and the gruesome killing of one teacher – has been treated as if it is a non-issue. Security is supposed to be the government’s primary responsibility. If Nigerians can be guaranteed their safety, they are resilient enough to push through even these hard times. In regions were people cannot go to their farms or their business centres for fear of being kidnapped or killed, one can only imagine how they survive. Right now, it feels like everything is working against the poor. Meanwhile, those in power seem preoccupied with the 2027 elections. Insecurity has been pushed to the back burner, and between now and the next election, criminals are guaranteed field days.
The subsidy was scrapped without a clear plan or assessment of its impact on ordinary Nigerians and the wider economy. Floating the naira deepened the hardship further. Despite the removal, Nigerians are asking where the savings have gone, because the government continues to borrow heavily with nothing to show for it.
According to the Debt Management Office, Nigeria’s total debt now stands at ₦152.39 trillion, about $100 billion. Jonathan and Buhari both paid fuel subsidies but did not borrow on this scale. Yet under Tinubu, borrowing continues. If he secures another term, Nigeria risks becoming the most indebted nation in the world – even though, as of 2007, the country had no external debt.
Three years down the line, this government does not look capable of making the kind of changes that inspire hope, let alone “renewed hope.” Right now, it seems to be working well only for itself. A government that genuinely wants change must be willing to make sacrifices alongside its citizens. It should cut wasteful spending, plug leakages, reduce cost of governance, instil fiscal discipline and prioritise investments that deliver the greatest impact on economic growth.
In spite of Nigeria’s economic situation in 2023, when Tinubu took over from the late Muhammadu Buhari, he continued the same pattern of governance that had brought the country to its knees. Buhari had dangerously tilted political patronage toward Northerners and Muslims. Many expected Tinubu – a former advocate of reform and restructuring – to strike a better balance. Instead, he has proven to be more tribalistic and parochial than Buhari was. Today, nearly every available position looks like another opportunity for a Yoruba person to get a national appointment.
While Nigerians battled inflation and economic hardship imposed by the insensitive reforms, the “renewed hope” government doubled down on excess: a $150m presidential jet, a bloated 48-member cabinet, a ₦21bn VP residence, and ₦160bn in SUVs for lawmakers. The pattern of governance that made the failed government of Buhari look like Eldorado is here to stay.
Over the past three years, the vast majority of working people and the poor have faced severe economic hardship. Their living standards have been battered by Tinubu’s economic policies, which many see as ruinous and self-serving. The ₦70,000 minimum wage was dead on arrival. In an economy with widespread unemployment, it is nearly impossible for those without jobs – or those with nothing to sell in the market – to survive.
Approximately 140 million Nigerians – about 63% of the population – live below the national poverty line. And the situation is getting worse. With the cost of living still excruciatingly high, more people are sliding into poverty. As I write this, 1 kg of cooking gas costs ₦1,800, and a litre of petrol sells for ₦1,400–₦1,500 depending on location. Despite the ongoing reforms, the economy keeps getting tougher by the day. Getting sick has become a risk few can afford, as hospitals struggle to provide basic care. We are in dire straits. Our roads are death traps, and our public schools are dead.
I agree completely with Bishop Mathew Hassan Kukah of Sokoto Catholic Diocese that no leader, president, or head of state, comes into government intending to make people suffer. I can say with certainty that President Bola Tinubu did not come in wanting Nigerians to suffer under his watch. But sometimes government policies don’t produce the expected outcomes. When that happens, citizens have the right to draw the government’s attention to the reality on the ground.
Insecurity has remained a persistent concern across multiple regions. Banditry, kidnapping, and communal violence have continued to disrupt communities and undermine confidence in the state’s ability to protect lives and property. Each incident erodes the social contract between citizens and government.
The recent kidnapping of school children and their teachers in Ogbomoso, Oyo State, and the gruesome killing of one teacher – has been treated as if it is a non-issue. Security is supposed to be the government’s primary responsibility. If Nigerians can be guaranteed their safety, they are resilient enough to push through even these hard times. In regions were people cannot go to their farms or their business centres for fear of being kidnapped or killed, one can only imagine how they survive. Right now, it feels like everything is working against the poor. Meanwhile, those in power seem preoccupied with the 2027 elections. Insecurity has been pushed to the back burner, and between now and the next election, criminals are guaranteed field days.
Under Tinubu’s government, public trust in democratic institutions has been strained by disputed elections, a perceived lack of accountability, and a political discourse more focused on division than on solving problems. People have lost confidence in the judiciary, INEC, the EFCC, and other coercive arms of government. They are widely seen as simply playing the president’s script. There have been quiet efforts to shrink political space and steer the country toward a one-party state.
The ruling party has also faced allegations of wooing governors and political heavyweights across the country with financial incentives to join the APC. The party now controls 34 states. Many politicians and civil servants accused of graft by the EFCC have sought refuge in the APC for political protection. We have rarely seen it this bad. In a democracy, when citizens feel unheard or see governance as detached from their reality, apathy and cynicism take root.
It’s a great pity that our style of democracy has deepened division among ethnic groups, because it lacks equity, fairness, and accountability. Under the APC, the cracks in our fault-lines become more glaring. In the past three years of Tinubu’s government, those cracks have dangerously widened. The level of hatred in the land is palpable, and many politicians seem comfortable with it. While people are busy insulting each other, the core issue of misgovernance gets forgotten.
Democracy promises participation, accountability, and incremental progress. When those promises feel absent, the label “dark years” emerges – not as a denial of democracy itself, but as a judgment on its current practice. The challenge is that prolonged disillusionment can weaken civic engagement, which democracy depends on to renew itself.
I agree completely with Bishop Mathew Hassan Kukah of Sokoto Catholic Diocese that no leader, president, or head of state, comes into government intending to make people suffer. I can say with certainty that President Bola Tinubu did not come in wanting Nigerians to suffer under his watch. But sometimes government policies don’t produce the expected outcomes. When that happens, citizens have the right to draw the government’s attention to the reality on the ground.
If the government’s performance were graded like in a university system, Tinubu’s 3-year cumulative grade point average would be too low for him to graduate. Labelling the last three years as “dark” reflects a widespread sentiment of hardship and unmet expectations.
Whether this period becomes a turning point depends on how government responds to public pain and how citizens choose to engage moving forward. Democracies are not defined by crisis alone, but by how they emerge from it.
