On Subsidy Removal and the Tragedy That Comes With It

Reform is more than a policy, it’s a bridge, a handshake between leaders and the people they serve. But what happens when a nation tears down that bridge under the guise of reform, only to watch its citizens drown in the flood that follows?

In May 2023, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu announced the removal of Nigeria’s fuel subsidy. The decision, though not unprecedented, was executed without a safety net for the poor. It was pitched as a courageous economic reform. An end to an “unsustainable” system and a new dawn of investment in healthcare, education, and infrastructure. But today, those lofty promises have dissolved into record-breaking inflation, public despair, and political opulence.

Before the subsidy was removed, Nigeria’s inflation rate stood at 22.7%. That figure was very high, but it was at least manageable for many households. Today, the policy has caused the inflation rate to keep soaring. More alarming is the rate of food inflation, which now hovers above 40%. For a country where most citizens spend the bulk of their income on food, this is catastrophic. Bread, rice, garri, yam, oil, etc, which were once affordable, are now distant dreams for the poor. A bag of rice that sold for ₦32,000 in early 2023 now costs over ₦70,000. Fuel prices have more than tripled, electricity tariffs are climbing, and the cost of living has spiraled beyond imagination.

What makes the situation more unbearable is that workers’ salaries have not risen in tandem with this economic reality. For months after the subsidy removal, there was no increase in the national minimum wage. And even now, it has just risen to ₦70,000. The worst is that many private companies have not adjusted salaries at all. Employees across media firms, banks, and tech startups continue to earn pre-inflation wages. Even the NYSC corps members, despite inflation, only had their allowance adjusted after a Twitter outcry, which is an embarrassment that shows just how disconnected the government has become from the people.

This disconnection is most glaring when one looks at the conduct of public officials. Imagine! It is at this time when citizens are tightening their belts, politicians are expanding theirs. Billions of naira are being approved for SUVs for lawmakers, extravagant allowances, foreign trips, and lavish office renovations. The National Assembly and state governors are now showing little hesitation in spending public funds on luxury while the masses struggle to eat once a day. It is hard not to feel betrayed when those elected to protect the people instead seem preoccupied with protecting their comfort.

Government officials have repeatedly argued that subsidy removal was a necessary evil to rescue the economy. They insist that the money saved would be redirected to critical sectors like education, health, and infrastructure. But nearly a year later, there is no visible sign of this redirection. The classrooms are still overcrowded and under-resourced. Teachers remain underpaid. Hospitals still lack drugs, equipment, and power. Young graduates remain unemployed, and Nigeria’s brain drain continues as doctors, nurses, and tech workers leave the country in droves. The streets are full of skilled men and women who have lost faith in their land.

This has now reached a stage where we begin to ask ourselves: where are the trillions saved from the subsidy removal? According to the federal government, trillions of naira were to be saved and reinvested. Yet there is no comprehensive breakdown of how those funds are being used. No citizen-centred reports. No progress updates. No infrastructural miracles. Just more suffering. A government that fails to account for public funds in such a crucial moment is not just inefficient, it is complicit in deepening poverty and inequality.

Nigeria now has over 133 million multidimensionally poor people, according to the National Bureau of Statistics. That is more than half the population. No intelligent individual would categorise this as a statistic but a national tragedy. To make it clearer, it means children are now dropping out of school than before, families are now skipping meals than before, pregnant women are now dying in under-equipped clinics than before, and youths are now wandering jobless than before. Bluntly, it means we are now living in a nation without hope. Meanwhile, the generation is not lost, not because Nigerians are lazy or unwilling to work, but because the system designed to support them has failed.

Despite all these, the government keeps telling the masses to endure the pain of reform. If the government is sincere, why is it not willing to do the same? Why must the poor sacrifice while the politicians luxuriate? Why must the workers groan while the officials celebrate? Maybe the nation of ours is a tale of two countries in one nation: one of plenty for the few, and one of pain for the many.

Reform, if it is to be meaningful, must come with compassion, transparency, and fairness. It must include a clear plan, a visible impact, and a shared burden. But Nigeria’s subsidy removal has become an exercise in shifting weight onto the weakest backs while the strongest climb higher.

The real tragedy is not just the economic hardship, it is the eroding hope. Many Nigerians no longer believe change is possible within. The streets are full of young people who no longer talk about building the nation, but escaping it. If this continues, the greatest loss will not be the value of the naira or the rise in food prices; it will be the loss of national trust and the death of patriotism.

Until the government comes forward with a transparent account of the subsidy savings, until it stops funding opulence with the tears of the people, and until it puts the wellbeing of the citizen above the comfort of the ruling class, Nigerians will continue to ask: Was this really about reform, or was it just another means of exploitation?