12 March, 2026
by Mohammed Bello Doka
Nigeria is sinking. Hunger is rising. Poverty is deepening. Insecurity stalks every major city and rural community. Yet, while millions struggle just to eat, learn, and feel safe, Nigeria’s top political elite — the Presidency, the National Assembly, and state governors — have enriched themselves on a scale that should make every patriotic Nigerian furious. Over the last three years (2024–2026), President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s government has overseen the distribution of about ₦1.83 trillion in legal allocations to the Presidency and the legislature. At the same time, lawmakers have inserted well over ₦7 trillion in padded or constituency projects into federal budgets — funds that, by any honest measure, are tied more to political patronage than national development. Yet despite this colossal flow of public money, budget implementation remained disastrously low — with actual expenditure on core services and capital projects estimated at less than 20 percent in both 2024 and 2025. This is not a policy misstep; it is institutional failure and elite capture sanctioned by law, and it explains why the political class continues to “stand on Tinubu’s mandate” while ordinary Nigerians remain abandoned. This is a story of political capture, elite enrichment, and a mandate that has been turned into a licence for self‑service.
Nigeria is not “on the brink” — it is in crisis. Poverty has surged to alarming levels. Over 129 million Nigerians are living below the national poverty line, according to The PUNCH in March 2025. Hunger has reached crisis proportions, with the United Nations World Food Programme warning that about 35 million Nigerians would face severe hunger in 2026, the highest figure ever recorded in the country, as reported by Associated Press in December 2025. Malnutrition is killing children. In July 2025, Reuters reported that at least 652 children had died from malnutrition in Katsina State alone over a six‑month period, according to aid workers. Insecurity — from banditry in the Northwest to insurgency in the Northeast — has made large areas of the country ungovernable. Military operations continue to stretch family budgets and erode confidence in public institutions. These realities are not marginal; they define daily life for most Nigerians. They are the backdrop against which elite enrichment becomes not just scandalous, but morally indefensible.
While Nigeria’s social indicators crumble, the political elite have legally appropriated enormous sums. The Presidency, known as the State House in budgeting documents, received tens of billions of naira for operational costs, vehicles, office fittings, allowances, and building renovations over the 2024–2026 budget cycles. The Senate and House of Representatives each received vast institutional budgets, running costs, and allowances. Presidency (State House): ₦76.37 billion, Senate: ₦984 billion, House of Representatives: ₦774 billion. Total (Presidency + Legislature): ₦1.83 trillion. These figures come from official draft budgets reported by Daily Trust Gazette (December 30, 2023), Punch (January 15, 2025), TheCable (June 10, 2025), The Guardian Nigeria (January 8, 2026), and BusinessDay (December 20, 2025). This is not “imagined corruption.” It is the sum of legally appropriated funds paid out to the highest offices in the land.
Beyond institutional salaries and allowances, there exists a practice that has hollowed the meaning of public budgeting in Nigeria: budget padding and constituency insertions. Civil society budget analysts from BudgIT revealed that, in the 2024 budget, lawmakers inserted at least 7,447 projects worth about ₦2.24 trillion, often with little or no connection to strategic national plans, as reported by BusinessDay on March 12, 2024. For the 2025 budget, BudgIT’s analysis indicated an even more extreme pattern: 11,122 inserted projects valued at ₦6.93 trillion, as reported by TheCable on May 28, 2025. These projects ranged from streetlighting and boreholes to ICT support and various constituency allocations that appear tailor‑made to benefit political figures more than the public. Taken together, the padding in just two years approaches or exceeds ₦9 trillion, but conservative accounting by independent analysts still places the combined padded totals at well over ₦7 trillion. This is not nation‑building. This is political appropriation.
It is one thing to allocate money; it is another entirely to use it effectively for public good. In both 2024 and 2025, Nigeria’s budget execution was far below what the economy and society needed. In both years under review, government revenue fell significantly short of targets, making it impossible to achieve robust implementation of budget lines. Even fiscal authorities’ own assessments place actual execution of capital budgets — the portion of the budget meant for infrastructure and public service expansion — at less than 20 percent. This reflects a chronic failure to convert allocated resources into delivered services. In practical terms, this means that while trillions are appropriated and repositioned within the elite class, very little of it ever reaches the hospitals, schools, roads, and security investments that Nigerians desperately need.
Why, then, do Nigeria’s executive and legislative elites continue to cling to President Tinubu’s so‑called “mandate,” even as the conditions of life for millions deteriorate? There is a political economy at work. The legislative class has entrenched mechanisms — such as padding and discretionary project insertions — that feed political influence and personal gain. These mechanisms depend on cooperation with the executive, making the political class a united bloc. Lawmakers and governors use budget allocations as tools for political patronage. Keeping the executive on side — especially the President — strengthens their access to resources that help them maintain influence back home. Oversight institutions have failed to wrest control of these practices, allowing elites to prioritize political survival over national development. President Tinubu himself has not been a neutral figure in this dynamic. His administration has presided over the revised execution of the 2024 and 2025 budgets into 2026 in an effort reported by Premium Times on December 19, 2025, to “improve implementation” — a euphemism that, in practice, allows political actors to stretch budget cycles and manipulate allocations without genuine oversight. This is not governance; this is institutional capture.
If you think this problem is isolated to Abuja, think again. At the state level, governors command enormous resources and discretionary funds. Independent reporting shows a pattern similar to the federal level: inflated budgets with significant allocations to politically defined projects and very little improvement in basic services. Governors, like their counterparts at the federal level, are thus part of a political economy that rewards loyalty to the executive mandate more than service to citizens — because it makes them richer and politically safer.
While the political elite extract trillions from public coffers, a curious phenomenon has taken hold on social media: voices that defend the oppressive status quo by pointing to token gestures — such as stipends of ₦20,000 for data or similar palliatives — as though these gestures compensate for systemic neglect. Celebrating crumbs while defending the very class responsible for the feast is not progress. It is the oppression of critical consciousness, the cultivation of apathy disguised as gratitude.
As Nigerians look toward the 2027 elections, the political elite continue to invoke Tinubu’s mandate as a shield — a claim that authorises them to distribute resources among themselves and maintain a political elite coalition. But what is that mandate now? Is it a mandate to enrich a political class while poverty climbs? A mandate to insert trillions into projects that do not improve public welfare? A mandate to honour political survival over citizen wellbeing? If this is the mandate Nigerians are being asked to reaffirm in 2027, it will be rejected by an electorate that has seen too much suffering and too little service. The narrative around the 2027 contest is already emerging: a choice between entrenched political elites who have prospered through extraction and those who demand genuine accountability. In a world where political outsiders capture global attention — even figures like Donald Trump loom in political conversations among disaffected voters — Nigeria’s own 2027 election may become a referendum on whether the elite class will be held to account or continue to dominate at the expense of the people. I am working on a separate op‑ed exploring whether the 2027 election will ultimately pit Nigeria’s entrenched political oppressors against a globalised movement for accountability and reform.
Tinubu, as President, has paid out enormous sums to the political class. The legislature has padded budgets that dwarf national priorities. Governors have followed the same playbook. Yet ordinary Nigerians are left with food insecurity, inadequate healthcare, collapsing schools, and pervasive violence. This is not merely a failure of policy. It is a collective betrayal of the people’s mandate. And if nothing changes, the 2027 elections will not be a contest of ideas — it will be a referendum on whether Nigeria’s elites will finally be held accountable for decades of self‑enrichment at the expense of a nation.
Sources Cited in Story:
The PUNCH, March 2025 — Nigeria poverty assessment.
Associated Press, December 1, 2025 — WFP hunger forecast.
Reuters, July 25, 2025 — Child malnutrition deaths in Katsina.
BusinessDay, March 12, 2024 — BudgIT 2024 budget insertion data.
TheCable, May 28, 2025 — BudgIT 2025 inserted projects analysis.
The Guardian Nigeria, January 8, 2026 — State House budget coverage.
Daily Trust Gazette, December 30, 2023 — Base 2024 National Assembly allocations.
Punch, January 15, 2025 — Legislative budget breakdown.
Premium Times, December 19, 2025 — Budget extension reports.
Mohammed Bello Doka can be reached via [email protected]
Tags
Opinion