As a troubled Nigeria moves into 2026, several factors suggest it will be a year marked by a tug-of-war between reforms and vulnerabilities. Amid these uncertainties in the coming year, critical questions loom: Will the United States’ “powerful strikes against the Islamic state in Nigeria” lead to enhanced security for Nigeria or foreign domination? Will the Tinubu government be open about its relationship with France? Is the country witnessing a democratic recession or state decline?
In the outgoing year, Nigeria experienced profound political, economic, social, and structural changes. Issues ranging from political governance reforms and institutional adjustment programmes to economic restructuring, insurgencies, technology development, and international relations shaped the year’s dynamics. Social media was a source of conflict and resolution, serving as a primary channel for information dissemination and a platform for public opinion.
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As the people grappled with widespread economic suffering and actively expressed their discontent, the government kept on preaching a “Renewed Hope”. The more reforms were made in economic restructuring and the more the effort to fight the nation’s insecurity challenges intensified, the deeper the suffering became. Afflicted by greed, rivalries, and climate change, as well as by the growing demand for democratic pluralism, Nigeria stood at a crossroads. Amid the prevailing situation in the nation, the perennial effects of the 2023 fuel subsidy removal – an unpopular government move – persisted. According to the Tinubu-led government, removing the fuel subsidy was a necessary measure, as it was one of the many corrections needed to address decades of Nigeria’s financial indiscipline. For many Nigerians, it meant an economic siege was imposed on them. Despite clear signs of disinflation at the end of 2025, most of the year was marked by soaring food prices, higher transportation costs, higher electricity tariffs, higher bank charges, and higher school tuition fees. Real incomes were untackled, survival in the informal sector was precarious, and coping mechanisms were stretched to the breaking point.
January started with nationwide protests focused on the rising cases of femicide and gender-based violence. These movements were far from isolated calls for moral action; they reflected broader fears about security, justice, and the decay of social welfare. Nongovernmental organisations reported over two dozen femicides in January alone, making the month a marked high point for the crime. This sort of violent crime tends to make people upset because it represents the failure of society and points to ineffective policing and justice systems. Activists highlighted the “toxic convergence” of misogynist web postings, inadequate legislation, and indifference from the state.
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By April, hashtags such as #TinubuMustGo and #EndBadGovernance started trending online. These were not the battle cries of a partisan opposition. The messages were class-transcending. The protests were in character with 2025: they were civic mobilisation for real issues, not party politics. They were not merely about which side had lost or won an election; they were about the loss of safety, dignity, and even faith. The anger and frustration were not just about the ineptitude of leaders; they were economic grievances directed at the decay of political party organisations. These demonstrations illustrated the lack of strong mediating bodies capable of translating popular demonstrations into meaningful political reforms.
Insecurity was the most significant destabilising factor in 2025 and the highest impending threat to Nigeria’s unity and development. The country experienced worrying geographical diffusion and functional diversification of insecurity, as violence was no longer limited to particular areas. Banditry increased in Kebbi, Katsina, Niger, Zamfara, and some parts of Kaduna State. Terrorist-linked groups also expanded their activities, including the comparatively recent sect known as Lakurawa, which is either affiliated with the Islamic State or blurs the lines between criminality and insurgency. Several attacks on mosques, churches, schools, mines, and villages conveyed a symbolism that expressed disdain for the authority meant to protect them.
Mass killings in Benue and Plateau, killings in a mosque in Katsina, kidnappings of schoolgirls in Kebbi and Niger, live coverage of an attack on a church in Kwara, as well as ongoing assaults on mining infrastructure, served to reinforce a perception that state security was overstretched. While military intervention or rescue efforts were sometimes successful, they were more often reactive than preemptive. This situation has weakened investment confidence, especially among agricultural and mining stakeholders. It represented yet another political blow and undermined the state’s control over violence. In cultural and social terms, it reinforced fear as a lived experience.
Also, a prominent and perhaps the most critical political event of 2025 was the declaration of a state of emergency in Rivers State. President Bola Tinubu suspended the state’s governor, deputy governor, and the House of Assembly due to the paralysis of governance, and legislative and executive conflicts that posed a danger to the country’s critical oil infrastructure. According to the Federal Government, its involvement was to protect the nation’s economic assets and restore peace and order.
…the paradox of 2025 was revealed in all its acuteness: progress in macroeconomic fundamentals was not accompanied by any improvement in household well-being. Assessments by the World Bank and the IMF highlighted progress in economic reforms, while emphasising that the gains had not trickled down. As economic pressure increased, the Nigerian government expanded the scope of social intervention.
On the other hand, it stretched the president’s powers to the limit and threatened the Constitution. It sparked nationwide debate on federalism, state sovereignty, and the circumstances under which a democratic mandate can be temporarily voided. The state of emergency was withdrawn in September, and the democratic institutions were restored, though that had its political fallout as well. The event contributed to the strong centre model of governance. It demonstrated to the political elite that the federal authority might usurp sub-national authority under conditions specified by the centre itself.
In May, the Mokwa flood emerged as arguably the worst ecological and humanitarian disaster of the year. By the time the floodwaters receded, the resultant displacement of people and the total loss of livelihood and homes could not be fully estimated. While heavy rainfall was the leading cause of this flood, it exposed the deeper flaws in city planning and disaster preparedness. The disaster restated the global abstractive concern as a matter of governance and highlighted the vulnerability of the Nigerian context amid environmental shocks driven by rapid urbanisation and infrastructure degradation. Remarkably, the immediate response, relief distribution, and resettlement efforts alleviated the people’s suffering, but only to some extent.
Furthermore, the paradox of 2025 was revealed in all its acuteness: progress in macroeconomic fundamentals was not accompanied by any improvement in household well-being. Assessments by the World Bank and the IMF highlighted progress in economic reforms, while emphasising that the gains had not trickled down. As economic pressure increased, the Nigerian government expanded the scope of social intervention. Indeed, the Nigerian Education Loan Fund (NELFUND) emerged as one of the government’s most high-profile programmes, receiving more than a million applications and disbursing ₦116 billion. Politically, the programme served as both a pressure valve and a tool of legitimation, amid a brutal recession.
However, some institutional challenges persisted, and in November, the Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU) made new threats of a nationwide strike over unresolved agreements, a grim reminder of the fragility of the Nigerian educational system and the cyclical relationship between the government and trade unions. The combination of new projects and unabated structural pressures was like that of incremental reforms.
Another one of the most intellectually engaged debates of 2025 was the rise of a party-dominance system. Throughout the year, previously rare defections of governors, legislators, and political elites to the All Progressives Congress (APC), the ruling party, became the norm in Nigeria. Defection to APC created an environment for a one-party system, though one in which competitive conflict was precluded, not by a constitutionally mandated absence of opposition, but by the convergence of an elite around structures of power and resources. This weakened the opposition political parties structurally and financially, and portends future danger for the ruling party.
Perceived threats to the democratic space escalated with the arrest of activist-lawyer, Dele Farotimi, over his slim book that legitimately criticised the criminal justice system. Although his arrest was for a possible defamation charge, it was more indicative of concerns about freedom of speech and the independence of the judiciary. Similarly, the case of Nnamdi Kanu, leader of the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB), who calls for his release continued to escalate in 2025, underscored the unresolved questions about justice, reconciliation, and the persistent alienation of the Igbo, which Nigeria has continued to grapple with.
By the end of the year, international eyes turned to internal issues in the country, particularly because of the highly provocative remarks by US President Donald Trump, who went the full distance to label Nigeria a “Country of Particular Concern” under the US Religious Freedom Act. The Nigerian government was not impressed with the move, though this development accentuated the country’s image risks. Further strains arose from the partial restriction of US visas for Nigerians, justified by security concerns and the risk of overstaying. The business community, students, and Nigerians abroad interpreted the measure as a demonstration of a lack of confidence in the wake of reform and improved macroeconomic performance.
While the country launched an audacious economic reform and a consolidation of federal-state power, its pace of progress on security, inclusiveness, and relief is a few steps behind an ever-accelerating civil society. A loss of civic confidence is attendant on this consolidation of power. Security breakdowns, climate disruptions, elite politics, and democratic trepidations, most succinctly, characterise why 2026 is not merely appalling but pivotal.
On 25 December, an update on Nigeria-US relations became public: the White House announced that it had launched “precision hits on terrorist targets in Nigeria by air strikes in the North West.” The Nigerian government framed it as “security cooperation and intelligence collaboration” with the United States. The impact of the strikes is yet to be assessed.
The year also saw the outbreak of another oil-sector-related tussle, this time between the Chief Executive of the Nigerian Midstream and Downstream Petroleum Regulatory Authority, Farouk Ahmed, and Aliko Dangote. Issues around the Dangote Refinery then came to a head when the Dangote Group accused the regulatory agencies of being obstructionist and corrupt. The Group even wrote requesting that Farouk Ahmed should account for the sources of his stupendous wealth. What had started as a dispute over the readiness to operate, fuel prices, and product quality, turned into a full-blown institutional crisis. Dangote’s accusation that elements within Nigeria’s petroleum regulatory architecture were actively working to frustrate domestic refining to preserve the entrenched import-dependent fuel regime was unambiguous. The petition against Farouk Ahmed transformed the dispute from a media spectacle into a governance issue, quickly extending beyond a single individual.
In fact, this issue brought to the fore several questions about the consistency of the government’s reform plan, which promoted manufacturing, import substitution, and the development of a private-sector economy, that yet appeared to be held back by contradictions within its own institutions. Affinity lay with Dangote, not because of the significant capital involved, but because of what the refinery means to Nigerians: reduced dependency on foreign sources for their needs, savings on foreign exchange, and massive national capacity.
Adding a moment of respite for Nigerians, Dangote created a pleasant Christmas by cutting the pump price of petrol. But how long will this last, especially given that market prices have not responded proportionately? President Tinubu has proposed a staggering ₦58.18 trillion budget for 2026, with infrastructure, security, healthcare, and education at the forefront, along with a strategy of borrowing and hoped-for economic revival. For most Nigerians, however, two simple questions must be answered: Revival for whom? At what expense?
While the country launched an audacious economic reform and a consolidation of federal-state power, its pace of progress on security, inclusiveness, and relief is a few steps behind an ever-accelerating civil society. A loss of civic confidence is attendant on this consolidation of power. Security breakdowns, climate disruptions, elite politics, and democratic trepidations, most succinctly, characterise why 2026 is not merely appalling but pivotal. Whether the reforms will find a sustainable basis over the coming years depends on a far more troubled future.
As a troubled Nigeria moves into 2026, several factors suggest it will be a year marked by a tug-of-war between reforms and vulnerabilities. Amid these uncertainties in the coming year, critical questions loom: Will the United States’ “powerful strikes against the Islamic state in Nigeria” lead to enhanced security for Nigeria or foreign domination? Will the Tinubu government be open about its relationship with France? Is the country witnessing a democratic recession or state decline?
May 2026 be a better year!
Toyin Falola, a professor of History, University Distinguished Teaching Professor, and Jacob and Frances Sanger Mossiker Chair in the Humanities at The University of Texas at Austin, is the Bobapitan of Ibadanland.
