JOHN ONYEUKWU
John Onyeukwu, a legal practitioner, policy analyst, and author, is an expert in governance, public accountability, and institutional reform with over 25 years in these areas. A former national coordinator, Transition Monitoring Group (TMG) and Concerned Professionals, he holds a mini-Master of Business Administration, masters in public policy from Central European University, Hungary; public administration and public policy from University of York, UK; in law from University of Lagos, Nigeria.
Ten years ago, Nigeria was riding a wave of optimism. We had just overtaken South Africa as Africa’s largest economy following the 2014 rebasing of our GDP. The economy stood at a robust $494.31 billion, and our GDP per capita, an indicator of average individual economic output, was $2,728.91. International observers hailed Nigeria as a “frontier market” poised to become a global economic player. We were the toast of investors, and terms like “Africa Rising” were commonly used in reference to our perceived trajectory.
Fast forward to 2025, and the picture could not be more different. According to the IMF’s April 2025 World Economic Outlook, Nigeria’s GDP is projected to close the year at just $188.27 billion, representing a collapse of over 62 percent from its 2014 high. Even more distressing is the fall in GDP per capita to a projected $806.84. In plain terms, the average Nigerian is now almost three times poorer than they were a decade ago.
This is not just an economic downturn. It is a national crisis of historic proportions, and one that threatens the stability, security, and very future of our country.
A comparative fall from grace
To grasp the magnitude of Nigeria’s economic decline, it helps to look around:
• In 2014, India had a GDP of about $2 trillion. Today, it has grown to over $4.1 trillion and is on track to become the world’s third-largest economy.
• Bangladesh, which had a GDP of just $173 billion in 2014, now has an economy valued at over $460 billion. Its GDP per capita, once half of Nigeria’s, is now over three times higher.
• Vietnam, with a population size close to Nigeria’s 100 million fewer, has expanded its economy to over $500 billion, driven by manufacturing, exports, and stable macroeconomic policies.
• Even Ethiopia, long viewed as a development laggard, has experienced more consistent GDP growth and is on a firmer trajectory in terms of infrastructure investment and industrial policy.
By contrast, Nigeria’s economic indicators have reversed dramatically. Despite being Africa’s most populous country and richly endowed with natural resources, our economic productivity has shrunk.
How did we get here?
The reasons for Nigeria’s economic decline are as numerous as they are familiar. At the core is our chronic overdependence on oil. For much of the last decade, oil revenues made up more than 80 percent of export earnings and about 60 percent of government revenue. When global oil prices crashed in 2014, it exposed the fragility of an economy built on a single commodity. The resulting fiscal crises, which have occurred repeatedly since then, only deepened macroeconomic instability.
Compounding this vulnerability has been persistent currency instability. Over the past ten years, the naira has lost more than 70 percent of its value against the dollar. Foreign exchange controls, the existence of multiple exchange rate regimes, and erratic monetary policy have eroded investor confidence and made it increasingly difficult for businesses to plan or thrive in a predictable environment.
Policy incoherence has also played a major role. Economic management in Nigeria has been marked by inconsistency and short-termism. From abrupt rice import bans to ill-conceived subsidy removals and poorly implemented cashless policies, successive governments have prioritised optics over outcomes. These missteps have undermined private sector growth and heightened public distrust.
Meanwhile, Nigeria’s population continues to surge — growing by nearly five million people each year — but economic expansion has not kept pace. Job creation has lagged, infrastructure has deteriorated, and public services remain stretched to the brink. The result is a widening chasm between national needs and government capacity to meet them.
Underpinning all of this is the issue of weak governance and pervasive corruption. According to Transparency International, Nigeria currently ranks 145th out of 180 countries in its Corruption Perceptions Index. Far too often, public funds are funneled into patronage networks and bloated bureaucracies rather than productive investments in infrastructure, education, or healthcare. Until governance is improved and accountability becomes the norm rather than the exception, economic recovery will remain elusive.
The human cost of economic decline
This is not just a story about statistics. The human consequences of Nigeria’s shrinking economic base are devastating:
• Over 133 million Nigerians now live in multidimensional poverty, according to Nigeria’s own National Bureau of Statistics.
• Youth unemployment hovers above 40%, driving frustration, crime, and mass emigration.
• Public hospitals are dilapidated, schools are underfunded, and infrastructure gaps, from roads to electricity, remain glaring.
• The Japa wave of mass migration of skilled Nigerians seeking better lives abroad is not merely anecdotal. Between 2019 and 2024, Nigeria lost tens of thousands of doctors, nurses, tech professionals, and university lecturers to other countries.
This steady erosion of human capital, Nigeria’s most valuable asset, poses an existential threat to our development.
A leadership crisis, but also a citizenship crisis
It is easy to point fingers at those in power, and many deserve it. For too long, Nigeria’s leadership class has prioritised political survival over economic strategy. National planning is episodic at best and often hostage to short-term considerations.
But citizens, too, must look inward. We have tolerated mediocrity, normalised dysfunction, and disengaged from the civic process. We complain but do not organise. We criticise but rarely vote. We demand change but shy away from the sustained civic pressure it requires.
The social contract is broken, and until citizens hold leaders accountable, it cannot be repaired.
We must choose a different path
There is still time to change the trajectory but we must act with urgency. The next five years are critical. To arrest this decline and chart a path to shared prosperity, Nigeria must commit to six clear imperatives:
• Macroeconomic stabilisation: We must end the regime of fiscal indiscipline, remove artificial distortions in the forex market, and bring inflation under control. Investors, both local and foreign, need confidence.
• Invest in human capital: Education and healthcare must be treated as national emergencies. A literate, healthy population is not a luxury; it is the foundation of growth.
• Unleash productivity: Nigeria’s private sector is held back by poor roads, erratic power, insecurity, and red tape. We must invest in enabling infrastructure and ease of doing business across all sectors.
• Drive subnational economic reform: States must become centers of production, not just consumption. Regional development strategies, based on comparative advantage, should guide investment.
• Embrace digital and green transitions: From digital financial services to renewable energy, Nigeria must position itself for the future, not remain stuck in the extractive past.
• Rebuild public trust: Transparent governance, data-driven policy, and credible institutions must become the norm. Without trust, even the best policies will fail.
The time to act is now
The IMF projects that Nigeria may not reach a $300 billion GDP by 2030. That should alarm every policymaker, business leader, and citizen. But it should also galvanize us. We must reject the fatalism that says Nigeria is doomed to fail. We are not. Our people are talented. Our resources are vast. Our potential remains immense. But potential is nothing without action. And action requires vision, courage, and a new kind of politics – one rooted in service, not self-interest. Will we rise to the challenge, or sleepwalk into decline? The choice is ours.
