On Saturday, October 24, 2026, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu stood before supporters at Ranchers Bees Stadium, Kaduna, to make his case for another four years in office. Rather than opening with a detailed account of how his administration had eased the pressure on households, he turned the conversation to the opposition.
At a time when millions of Nigerians are struggling to afford food, pay rent, and keep their families afloat, the President’s message was simple: the opposition created the hunger and poverty.
“I have an argument. I hear my opponent talking about hunger, poverty. Who created it? They did! They created the hunger, they created the poverty. We are trying to eradicate it,” he declared.
It was a politically calculated move. By assigning responsibility for hunger to his opponents, Tinubu sought to recast 2027 as a choice between the architects of the crisis and the government working to fix it. But that framing exposes the central vulnerability of his re-election bid: incumbents may explain a crisis, but they are still judged by what citizens endure under their watch.
Economic hardship is not an abstract policy debate. It is felt at the market, at the bus park, and in the rent envelope at the end of the month. A family spending most of its income on food, a worker whose salary no longer covers basic expenses, and a young graduate without a job are not persuaded by arguments about who created the problem. They want proof that things are getting better and to know when that relief will reach them.
Blame-shifting fails at the ballot box because it does not answer the voter’s question. Nigerians may accept that past governments contributed to today’s crisis, but responsibility follows power. A government that controls policy today cannot campaign indefinitely against the failures of yesterday.
Tinubu asked for another mandate, promising continuity, progress, and development. Addressing young Nigerians, he said: “To you, the children of our country, it's a promise of second-time prosperity; you will not regret it.” The question is: how?
The latest data present a mixed and uncomfortable picture. According to the National Bureau of Statistics, headline inflation eased to 14.63% in September 2026 from 15.39% in August. That is progress. However, food inflation remained at 19.59% year-on-year. Housing, water, electricity, and gas rose by 16.94%, while restaurants and accommodation increased by 18.57%. The NBS reported real GDP growth of 3.89% in the first quarter of 2026, while the World Bank put growth at 4.2% in the first half of 2026, up from 3.9% a year earlier. The IMF projects that average inflation will fall from 23% in 2025 to 15.6% in 2026.
Yet slower inflation does not mean cheaper prices. Prices are still rising, just more slowly. The Central Bank of Nigeria’s own survey found that 77.2% of households still described inflation as high. Petrol prices of about ₦1,400 per litre in Lagos and Abuja continue to drive up transport and business costs.
Most troubling is poverty. The IMF’s June 2026 assessment put poverty at about 63% under the national poverty line, with 27 million Nigerians facing food insecurity in late 2025. The World Bank’s October update was blunt: growth remains insufficient to create enough productive jobs or significantly reduce poverty.
Thus, while foreign reserves have improved to more than $54 billion and the naira has found a measure of stability, the street-level economy tells a different story. This is why the promise of “second-time prosperity” struggles to resonate. For millions of Nigerians, there is no light at the end of the tunnel because the tunnel is measured in daily survival.
A fair assessment must acknowledge gains where they exist. Disinflation, stronger external balances, and modest growth are real and should be recognised. But progress must be tested against three questions: Is it sufficient? Is it inclusive? Is it sustainable?
Public confidence must be earned through results, not rhetoric. If President Tinubu expects Nigerians to support another term on the promise of prosperity, he must show how the next phase will deliver tangible improvements in incomes, jobs, food affordability, and public services. Encouraging indicators may offer hope, but hope alone is not prosperity.
Until Nigerians can see and feel recovery in their daily lives, the promise of a more prosperous second term will remain unconvincing. For many, the fear that they will regret it again will be entirely rational. The purpose of reform cannot be to stabilise markets alone; it must also improve welfare. Where macroeconomic gains coexist with poverty affecting 63% of the population, celebrating statistics without addressing people’s lived realities is tone-deaf. Citizens are entitled to demand concrete, measurable commitments for a second term.
As 2027 approaches, the decisive measure will not be applause at rallies or the force of accusations against opponents. It will be whether ordinary Nigerians can feel a difference in their pockets and homes.
The President also said his administration pays salaries regularly and praised APC governors: “We pay salaries regularly. Our governors are working. I am proud of them. They are developing.”
Paying salaries regularly is not an achievement; it is the minimum obligation of any government. In 2026, Nigerians are not asking whether salaries are paid but whether those salaries can buy anything. When food inflation stands at 19.59% and a litre of petrol costs ₦1,400, regular salary payments without purchasing power amount to regular impoverishment.
Praising the regular payment of salaries—a constitutional duty, not a campaign achievement—is like someone campaigning in a hospital and talking about painting its fence while ignoring the dying patients inside.
One would expect the President to recognise the crisis threatening lives and livelihoods across Northern Nigeria. What does salary payment mean to a farmer who cannot safely reach his fields, a traveller afraid to use the Birnin Gwari–Kaduna road, or families in parts of Zamfara, Katsina, and Plateau who do not know what each night may bring?
When farmers abandon their fields, food production suffers. When roads become dangerous, commerce and mobility decline. When villages face repeated attacks, families lose their sense of belonging and confidence in the institutions meant to protect them.
If insecurity was absent from, or inadequately addressed in, the President’s remarks, that omission deserves serious scrutiny. At a time when Northern communities continue to demand protection, citizens are entitled to ask why their most pressing concern did not receive the attention it deserves
A second-term mandate cannot be secured by asking Nigerians to endure hardship indefinitely while pointing to improving reserves, slower inflation, or regular salary payments. Economic recovery that leaves families unable to afford food, workers unable to maintain their standard of living, and farmers unable to reach their fields is not prosperity. It is a promise deferred at the expense of those least able to bear it.
Voters should therefore demand a public, time-bound contract, not another general assurance. That contract must include specific targets for reducing food inflation and poverty, creating productive jobs, restoring purchasing power, lowering the cost of transport and energy, securing major roads and farming communities, reopening access to abandoned farmlands, assisting displaced families, and prosecuting those responsible for attacks. Each target should have a deadline, a budget, an accountable institution, and publicly verifiable progress reports.
The President may ask Nigerians to trust his promise of “second-time prosperity,” but trust must now be earned through measurable results. By 2027, citizens should judge the government not by its explanations or campaign slogans, but by whether families can afford food, workers can live on their wages, farmers can safely produce, and communities can sleep without fear. If those conditions do not improve, voters will be justified in concluding that the promise was not a plan for prosperity but a request for more time without accountability.
Dukawa writes from Abuja. He can be reached at abbahydukawa@gmail.com.
