by Mohammed Bello Doka
27 June, 2026.
The First Lady of Nigeria, Senator Oluremi Tinubu, recently advised Nigerians to venture into small-scale businesses like frying akara, roasting corn, or selling kuli-kuli, describing them as requiring little capital. She framed this as part of the "Renewed Hope Agenda." On the surface, this seems like an innocent, perhaps even encouraging, piece of advice. But when you place it against the backdrop of a nation where over 133 million people live in multidimensional poverty, a government seemingly detached from the masses, and a global economy sprinting toward artificial intelligence and blockchain, the statement is not just naive; it is a profoundly insulting revelation of a government's cluelessness and selfishness.
Let us be clear: there is no shame in honest labour. The market woman who rises before dawn to fry akara and feed her family deserves our highest respect. She is the unsung backbone of the informal economy. But to propose such a path for lifting 133 million people out of poverty in 2026 is to fundamentally misunderstand the scale of the crisis and the aspirations of a nation. When we juxtapose this "akara mentality" with the aggressive poverty-eradication strategies of serious economies like China, the disconnect becomes not just apparent, but appalling.
China, a nation that has lifted over 800 million people out of poverty, does not do so by telling its citizens to fry snacks. Instead, it employs a sophisticated, multi-layered strategy known as the "SHIELD" approach: systematic monitoring, human-centered ethos, industrial development, endogenous empowerment, layered support, and durable endeavor. In China, the government treats its citizens not as statistics but as individuals with distinct circumstances. It uses digital monitoring to track risk indicators like sudden healthcare costs or job loss, and then deploys targeted assistance for healthcare, education, and housing. They invest in "development-oriented assistance," turning "fingertip skills" like Miao embroidery into a "fingertip economy" that connects remote villages to global markets. They have established a five-year transition period dedicated to ensuring that those lifted out of poverty do not relapse, with a cumulative investment of 850.5 billion yuan in infrastructure and public services. In 2024 alone, the per capita disposable income of rural residents in counties that had shaken off poverty reached 17,522 yuan, a 24.7 percent increase. This is what a government genuinely committed to lifting its people looks like.
In stark contrast, the Nigerian government's "akara solution" is a cynical attempt to paper over a colossal failure of governance. It tells the graduate, who has spent years acquiring knowledge in a digital age, to abandon their ambition and settle for a subsistence living. It tells the ordinary market woman that her lifelong trade is being downgraded to a "fallback" option for the educated, devaluing her hard work. It tells the uneducated, the physically challenged, and the displaced that they are not even worth a mention in the conversation. Most critically, it tells the 133 million Nigerians living in poverty that their suffering can be solved by frying beans. This is not a policy; it is a mockery.
The advice is especially galling when it comes from a political class that is openly discussing an upward review of their own salaries. The Nigeria Labour Congress has rightly condemned this move as "insensitive, unjust, and inequitable," pointing out that while the last wage review for civil servants was less than 50 percent, the review for political office holders a year later was in excess of 800 percent. The government argues that the President's current monthly salary of N1.5 million is a "joke" and that ministers earning less than N1 million is insufficient. Meanwhile, over 133 million Nigerians live in multidimensional poverty, with many states struggling to pay the N70,000 minimum wage. The hypocrisy is staggering. Politicians who have amassed billions in opulent allowances and "ways and means" are now lecturing the impoverished on the virtues of frying akara to make ends meet. It is not just a disconnect; it is a betrayal.
Furthermore, this advice completely ignores the insecure environment in which these citizens are expected to "hustle." According to a recent report by SBM Intelligence, Nigerians paid a staggering N2.57 billion in ransoms to kidnappers between July 2024 and June 2025. Over 4,700 people were abducted in nearly 1,000 incidents across the country. The report describes kidnapping as a "lucrative criminal enterprise" that has evolved into a "self-sustaining business model," thriving on "weak governance, vast unpoliced rural spaces, and worsening security conditions." How can the First Lady, or anyone in this administration, suggest that 133 million people can escape poverty through akara when there is a very real risk of being abducted while simply trying to make a living? The advice is not just economically hollow; it is practically dangerous.
In an age of artificial intelligence and blockchain, the global economy is shifting toward automation, data analytics, fintech, and decentralized systems. The value of a nation in the coming decades will be determined by its human capital and its ability to innovate. While the First Lady is distributing grants for akara and kuli-kuli, the rest of the world is racing to develop artificial intelligence models and smart contracts. By focusing on survival, rather than development, the government is mortgaging Nigeria's future. It is entrenching a poverty mentality that will keep generations locked in a cycle of subsistence while the world moves on. A nation that cannot feed itself without importing basic goods cannot lecture its citizens on the virtues of frying akara. A government that cannot secure its roads or power its factories has no moral authority to tell its people to "hustle."
Nigeria cannot renew its hope by looking backwards. It cannot fight a twenty-first-century problem with a twentieth-century solution. The government must wake up to the global reality and invest in its people. It must provide the security, infrastructure, and education that will allow Nigerians to compete on the global stage. It must stop treating the symptoms of poverty and start curing the disease. And it must look at nations like China and learn: real renewal comes from a government that serves its people, not one that insults their intelligence and tells them to fry beans. Until that day comes, the 133 million Nigerians trapped in poverty will continue to wait for hope that never arrives, while their leaders dine in luxury and call it renewed hope.
Mohammed Bello Doka can be reached via [email protected]
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