American President Gerald Ford, in a posthumous eulogy read by his son, Steve, at the funeral of another American President, Jimmy Carter, his immediate successor, affirmed, “Honesty and truth-telling were synonymous with the name Jimmy Carter.”

This assessment by a president about another president is the exact opposite of what a Nigerian would probably say about a fellow Nigerian, both knowing that “honesty and truth-telling” will be antonyms to their characters as Nigerians.

That is a sad, but true, commentary on the character of the average Nigerian that prompted former British Prime Minister, David Cameron, to say that “Nigeria and Afghanistan are possibly the two most corrupt countries in the world”, to the hearing of Muhammadu Buhari, a sitting President of Nigeria, who hardly knew how to react to a biting insult.

The best that former President Buhari could muster was his trademark wide Cheshire cat grin, a “Yes” that Nigeria was “fantastically corrupt” and the underwhelming comment that he “was shocked and embarrassed” and would rather “demand… a return of (Nigeria’s) stolen assets (hidden in Britain), than “demand an apology” from ex-Prime Minister Cameron. 

And to appear to be pushing what is no more than a half-hearted demand of his boss, the then Chairman of Nigeria’s Economic and Financial Crimes Commission, Ibrahim Magu. revealed that at that time, $37bn of stolen Nigerian money had been routed through Britain.

A joke that made the rounds in Lagos in the mid-1980s stated that when it looked as if an aircraft on an international flight was about to crash, the flight stewards thought of the most effective way to persuade the frightened passengers to don the parachute and dive into the sky.

To the gambling Americans, they said it was a 50-50 chance of survival. The Americans weighed their options, took the parachute and jumped out. The Japanese took the parachute when they were told that it was a matter of honour to be brave and jump out with the parachute.

It became a royal problem to persuade Nigerians to dive. No one knew how to get them to accept the parachutes. Until a retired pilot, who had lived in Lagos, offered to help. When he got the all-clear, he simply walked into the fuselage and announced, “Nigerians. It is illegal to jump out!”

In less than a jiffy, all the Nigerians on the aircraft jumped the queue, collected and wore the parachutes and saw to it that they all jumped out ahead of other nationals, who stood puzzled that the motivator for Nigerians was the zest to breach rules.

Following is another interesting story. A video gone viral showed a young lady, presumably a Diaspora Nigerian, in a rented boat trying to appease some gods by throwing US dollars into a lagoon. After the ritual, she was asked what she liked about Nigeria. She answered, “I like that I can pay my way through anything,” in the most casual manner.

These stories are probably a summary of the disdain that Nigerians have for orderliness, ethical guardrails and the rule of law. It also shows that any Nigerian state actor, in any official capacity, can be bought to compromise on any rule or policy.

To quote the character, Basi, in Ken Sawo-Wiwa’s TV series, “Basi & Company”, “It’s a matter of cash.” More uncouth Nigerians would use the phrase, “Cash for hand, back for ground,” in the capsule of transactions between a prostitute and her clients.

What all these negatives say of Nigeria is that there are no referees to call out those who engage in wrongdoing. If anything, it is those who are expected to caution and make Nigerians obey the rules that invite them to disobey the laws.

It was rumoured that a Nigerian estate developer who died under the rubble of one of his buildings was encouraged by Lagos State officials to raise the building beyond the level that was originally approved for him.

A referee maintains fair play by interpreting and enforcing rules, making impartial decisions on infractions, keeping stock of scores of the game, and ensuring that a player’s behaviour complies with laid-down rules and guidelines.

In today’s Nigeria, no one seems to be responsible for compliance, and those who should maintain the rules are the culprit-in-chief in the disgraceful act of breaching laid-down rules and regulations. Indeed, the average Nigerian seems to think that rules are to be breached.

When a boss restrained a company driver from driving against the traffic, the driver told him that no one obeyed highway codes anymore and continued breaking the highway codes. When the boss asked the unruly driver to be fired, the HR Manager was interceding on behalf of the errant driver.

You may not be too surprised that Nigeria endures so much impunity, with the two referee organs, the judiciary and the media, created by the Nigerian Constitution for dispensing justice and ensuring fair play, are hamstrung by the same Constitution!

Section 6 (6,c) absolves the government of responsibilities to Nigerians by saying, “The judicial powers… (that) shall be vested in the courts… shall not… extend to any issue or question as to why any act… or any judicial decision is in conformity with the Fundamental Objectives and Directive Principles of State Policy… in (Chapter II of the Constitution).”

What this convoluted jabber is saying is that the Constitution, grundnorm of Nigeria, gives no guarantees that the government shall provide security, welfare, an efficient economy, adequate educational and health services, and safeguard the air, land, forest and wildlife to Nigerians. In other words, the judiciary cannot compel the executive arm to perform its constitutional duties.

The Father Christmas Section 22 of the Constitution gave the Nigerian media the power “to uphold the Fundamental Objectives… and uphold the responsibility and accountability of the government to the people”.

But Section 45(1) withdrew that, along with a slew of other fundamental human rights, like the right to life, personal liberty, freedom of thought, association, and right to live or own property in any part of Nigeria, “in the interest of (the generally ill-defined) public safety, public order, public morality, or public health, or for the purpose of protecting the rights of other persons”.

Where the hands of the judiciary and the media have been tied behind their backs by the Constitution that created them, they would hardly make any impact, especially when you consider how much the military culture impacted the socio-cultural lives of Nigerians.

The military ruled Nigeria, for 29 of the first 39 formative years of the Nigerian state- from 1960 to 1999- when the military packed their baggage of impunity and disrespect for the rule of law and returned to their barracks.

When a predator Nigerian tells his victim to go to court or gets his less connected compatriot beaten up by friends in the military barracks, he is simply boarding the time-machine, back to the days when a connected Nigerian gets what is not due to him by associating with a senior brass of the military government.

To borrow a phrase from Lasisi Olagunju, a columnist with Nigerian Tribune newspaper, “We cannot become (like the countries that are prospering so well) until we have blind laws that recognise no class (and) no ethnicity.”

When the politics-administration dichotomy inaugurated the practice of public administration, what was intended was a critical need to bifurcate the logic of the two in ways that will extend the relationship between the politicians and the administrator and make it more efficient. The politician is then, within the logic of the dichotomy, restricted to policy formulation while the administrator is confined to the realm of policy implementation. Reality however defeats the neat boundary between the two. Politics and administration, in practical reality, are almost inseparable. And one would expect that the relationship between political science and public administration discourse will reflect this inseparability. Unfortunately, it does not. The separation undermines the fundamental urgency of addressing the political foundation of administrative research and practices, especially as they relate with the issues of power, governance, politics and democracy.

Political science descriptively and critically studies political phenomena and how they contribute to our understanding of the political community. Significantly, political science analyzes the fundamental role that power plays in the articulation of politics especially in the attempt to unravel the dynamics of the political community and its social and political circumferences and trajectories. Public administration is the very embodiment of the state as the most critical embodiment of politics. The state is made most visible within the frameworks and institutional workings of public administration, especially through the public sector and the public services. The straightforward argument is that the political and administrative reality of any state cannot be studied in isolation of each other. This seems obvious enough given that each of political science and public administration reinforces each other in terms of shedding light on the complex and intricate workings of the state and its response to the citizens and the commonwealth. In other words, there is no way the concepts of power and governance, for example, would not intersect political and administrative questions, and complicate them. The issues of democratic governance and innovation, and collaborative governance demand thinking of the interplay between politics science and administration.

In my many years as a deep insider career bureaucrat in the public service, I have been aware not only of the role that politics play in administrative matters, and vice versa. I have also been apprised of how political acts of commission and omission actively promote or undermine the public service. Indeed, my theoretical and practical researches into the dynamics of government business and institutional reforms highlights how political and administrative factors interact. My deep worry however is that political science and public administration discourses in Nigeria carry on as if these interactions and interrelations are at best trivial or at worst non-existence. For instance, in institutional terms, there is nothing to write home about in the existence and possible cross-fertilizing relationship between the Nigerian Political Science Association (NPSA) and the National Association for Public Administration and Management (NAPAM). Indeed, there cannot be such a cross-fertilization because while NPSA is active, NAPAM has remained comatose. And the vision and mission statement of NPSA is not broad enough to take in administrative matters and concerns, or the interplay of politics and administration.

The most fundamental observation that my status as a scholar-bureaucrat in the federal civil service afforded me is a practical understanding of the nature of the fundamental disconnections in public administration practices and the consequences on the state’s responsibility to her citizens, all due to crucial assumptions and principles that have been left lying fallow and unattended to in an interdisciplinary discourse and cross fertilization between political science scholarship and public administration theories and practice. A few examples suffice. In 1966, Nigeria shifted away from the parliamentary system of government and, after the long interregnum of military administrations, resumed with the presidential system, enshrined in the 1979 Constitution. This move was preceded by the Dotun Phillips studies report of 1985, and the Civil Service Reorganization Decree of 1988, which aligned the civil service with the presidential system of government. However, even with the reversal of the reform frameworks by the Ayida reform of 1995, it is still clear that many of Nigeria’s administrative practices still retain aspects of parliamentary elements that could be one source of unresolved structural troubles necessitating performance inefficiency.  

This has some other implications for the practice of federalism and the stabilization of Nigeria’s governance structure. Since the intervention of the military in 1966 and the subsequent militarization of Nigeria’s political and governance structure of the Nigerian state, the federal arrangement that ought to have been the natural remedy for the unruly ethnonational diversity became compromised. For instance, inter-governmental relations and the critical need for fiscal federalism became caught in the cracks of constitutional and institutional dysfunction. The Babangida administration, through the recommendation of the IBB’s Presidential Advisory Committee, established the National Council for Inter-Governmental Relations (NCIS) as one in a series of government’s efforts—like the Centre for Democratic Studies (CDS), National Institute for Legislative and Democratic Studies, Michael Imoudu National Institute for Labour Studies, etc.—to rehabilitate Nigeria’s governance and administrative structures.   

All this goes to demonstrate a cogent reason why the political and the administrative in Nigeria’s governance context cannot be separated, even in terms of theoretical argumentation. Political science scholarship, in longing for an interdisciplinary relationship with public administration, must recognize how the latter has evolved first as a sub-discipline of political science, and later as a multidisciplinary endeavor that encompasses insights drawn from management science, organizational psychology, sociology, statistics, industrial engineering, computer science, etc. from which it draws to invigorate its curriculum and pedagogy. This point is still not demonstrated in the disciplinary silos that define the existence of political science on the one hand and public administration on the other in Nigerian universities. In some universities, public administration functions in a different faculty, or is its own faculty, as different from the faculty of the social sciences. And so, scholars carry out their scholarly discourses in different contexts, oblivious of the grave challenges that the Nigerian administrative and governance predicament pose to their theoretical and practical separation. In what follows, I will point attention at a few contentious institutional matters to which I have gestured in many of my works, but which I contend require the critical interrogation of political scientists.

First, there is the recurrent issue of the need to keep clarifying the nature and the role of the state in terms of administrative efficiency. While the state is central to the analysis of power, and constitutes one of the central thematic focus of political science scholarship, the fundamental need to redefine the role of the state has often not been taken up in terms of its significance for the restructuring of the ministries, departments and agencies (MDAs) that are the critical engine room for measuring the developmental successes of the state. Aligning the role of the state to the understanding of the MDA becomes crucial as it facilitates the reform of the MDAs in terms of the need to remodel and strengthen their core vis-à-vis their non-core functions as both relate to the service delivery function of government. This could also instigate the urgency of conducting institutional audit that is crucial not only to determining the performance status of many state agencies, but to also jumpstart organizational development dynamics that are meant to motivate the movement of structures to institutions. It is institutions, rather than mere structures that government requires to undermine governance failure.      

Second, political science scholarship in Nigeria is necessarily confronted by the need to clarify and explicate the thorny issue of the relationship between the administrative operational dynamics of the executive arm of government in terms of its apparatuses—like the Federal Executive Council—and the working of the American-styled presidential system of government. This is a key concern given that Nigeria’s adoption of many institutional dynamics has remained problematic in terms of relating them to her political and administrative realities. For instance, acute and critical attention need to be paid also to the political economy involved in the executive-legislature relations, and the implications deriving from the planning and budgeting processes from legislative oversight to appropriation and budget implementation. Peter Ekeh’s analysis of migrated structures alert us to the danger of adopting these structures without paying critical attention to their value orientation and the political realities of where they are coming from.    

Democratic governance and all its ancillary structural and administrative apparatuses encompass a host of issues that require critical analyses. Since the notion of the public good and the commonwealth, in the idea of good democratic governance, constitute the formidable core of the relationship between politics, public management and public administration, then the discourse around stakeholder management, participatory governance, performance management and accountability become key and critical core issues that interact with the way we see politics, administration and citizenship. The recent discourse on the resuscitation of local governance, through the landmark decision of the Supreme Court to legally reinvigorate the constitutional strength of local government in Nigeria, points at the significance of connecting community development structures and traditional institutions to the state systems and democratic enablement through the principle of social capital and subsidiarity.

To reiterate, the predicament of the postcolonial Nigerian state demands that political science scholarship must necessarily and urgently signal an interdisciplinary collaboration that will instigate a ferment of theoretical, practical and institutional discourses from which both can expect not only to refresh their internal discursive vibrancy, but also collectively contribute to the understanding of the working of the Nigerian state and her capacity to induce participatory democratic governance.     

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The zoning of the presidency of the Ohanaeze Ndigbo to the Igbo-speaking people of Rivers State, and the subsequent emergence of three Ikwerre sons, each claiming to be the new President-General of the apex Igbo sociocultural group, has raised very interesting questions about identity construction. It should be recalled that three Ikwerre sons – Jackson Omenazu, Uche Okwukwu and Senator Azuta Mbata, at different conventions, claimed to have been elected the President-General of the association. In addition to Ikwerre, which is the largest group in Rivers State, other Igbo-speaking groups in the State are Etche, Ekpeye, Ogba, Egbema, Ndoni, Ndoki, Asa, Bonny and Opobo.

Senator Azuta Mbata who was proclaimed elected at a convention organized at the Old Government Lodge, Enugu, on January 10 2025, has been congratulated by a number of eminent Nigerians including former Vice President Atiku Abubakar, Enugu State Governor, Dr. Peter Mbah; South-east senators; Northern Christian Youth Professionals, and the Chief of Staff to Governor Siminalayi Fubara of Rivers State, Dr. Ehie Edison, which confers on him an additional halo of legitimacy to the office.

But there was a quick backlash: the Ogbakor Ikwerre Cultural Organisation Worldwide, which claims to speak in behalf of the Ikwerre ethnic nationality worldwide, disowned him. The group argued that by accepting to be President of Ohanaeze Ndigbo, which it conceded was his constitutional right; he had willingly and freely renounced his membership and identity as an Ikwerre man. They further argued that Senator Azuta Mbata’s decision to identify as an Igbo “does not represent the collective view, will, position, or thinking of the Eneka community, Apara Kingdom, or the entire Ikwerre Ethnic Nationality”. 

There have been suggestions that the decision of Ohanaeze Ndigbo to zone its presidency to the Igbos of Rivers State was part of the Igbo agenda of territorial ambitions. I think suggestions such as this are borne out of either ignorance or mischief. The truth is that the South-east Igbos, like many parts of the country, are themselves also in conversations about their own identity. It is not just about whether they should anchor their identity in Nigeria as presently constituted or have their own country, but also conversations on how to relate with their ‘cousins’ outside the South-east who share the same or similar language with them.

There are for instance those who argue that Ohanaeze Ndigbo should be exclusively for Igbos of South-east – partly to avoid being accused of nurturing territorial ambitions or running after people who do not want to identify with them despite sharing the same or similar language. There are however others who believe that limiting the leadership of Ohanaeze to the Igbos of the South- east would be a disservice to their ‘cousins’ in Delta and Rivers’ States who are proud of their Igbo identity, and want to be identified as such. I think the latter group won the argument which was why in 2008, the Ohanaeze Presidency was zoned to Delta State and Ambassador Ralph Uwechue, from Ogwashiuku, emerged the President-General of the organization. 

It is important to bear in mind that even within the South-east, there are some areas that traced their history or myth of origin outside Igboland and would sometimes not want to be called Igbos. The people of Onitsha in Anambra State would for instance call non-Onitsha Igbos as ‘Nwa Onye Igbo’, meaning the “son or daughter of an Igbo person”. One of the limitations of relying on the myths of origin to construct one’s ethnic identity is that the ethnic group that another group wants to appropriate as its place of origin (usually one that enjoys some historical prestige), would themselves also have their own myth of where they migrated from.

This means that the fact that some Ikwerre people do not want to be identified as Igbo is not really a big deal. It is the same among the Igbo-speaking people of Delta – some would want to identify as Igbos while some will not want to. In Benue and Plateau states for instance, there are conversations and contestations on whether they are better off anchoring their identity in Northern Nigeria or create their own identity as Middle Belt. The same is true of Yorubaland where Yoruba nation activists feel they are better off having an Oduduwa Republic despite the fact that the country’s president, Bola Tinubu, is a Yoruba man.

This trend is not limited to Nigeria. For instance on 14 February 1974, barely 14 years after independence, Somalia joined the Arab League as part of the efforts by the leadership of the country at that time to make Somalis see themselves as Arabs rather than as Africans. It is important to underline that before colonialism, there was no consciousness of being Igbo, Yoruba or Hausa/Fulani. Ethnicity as an identity marker is therefore a recent phenomenon – a practice that was developed in the colonial urban centres. 

The fact that three Ikwerre sons presented themselves for elections as President-General of Ohanaeze, and campaigned vigorously for the office, would challenge the claim by Ogbakor Ikwerre Cultural Organisation Worldwide to be the sole custodians of the aspirations of the Ikwerre people over their choice of ethnic identity. The truth is that such conversations are rarely conclusively decided, and would often mutate in line with the fortunes of the ethnic group which is the focus of the contestation. For instance at a time when the Italians and Irish were discriminated against in the USA, some concealed their ethnic and racial identities but began to proudly flaunt these as Italy and Ireland became economic successes. In the current climate of Igbophobia there are some of our Igbo ‘cousins’ who may fear that anchoring their ethnic identity on Igbo may be a career-killer. Elsewhere, this is called ‘Bleaching complex’ – denying or masking your ethnic/linguistic identity so that it does not inhibit your career progress. 

Of course some Igbo ‘cousins’ outside the South-east who are opposed to anchoring their ethnic identity on the Igbo may have other reasons, including a genuine conviction that they have nothing in common with the Igbos and that their shared language is just an accident of history. Igbo ‘cousins’ who want to anchor their ethnic identity on their Igboness on the other hand may have their own convictions, including the potential benefits of being part of one of the dominant ethnic groups in the country rather than focusing only narrowly on the current state of the Igbos in the country. From an identity perspective, the furore raised by the emergence of an Ikwerre as the President-General of Ohanaeze raises a number of important questions: Who are the Ikwerres? Who do people say they are? Who do they want to be? And why? 

In 2009, I published a very well received edited book on identity, entitled: ‘Who is an African? Identity, Citizenship and the Making of the Africa-nation’. The book had many very known Africanists as contributors, including the late Professor Ali Mazrui, Professor Kwesi Prah, Professor Mammo Muchie and Gamal Nkrumah, the late Kwame Nkrumah’s son. I introduced the book thus: 

Who is an African? At face value, the answer seems obvious. Surely, everyone knows who the African is, it would seem. But the answer becomes less obvious once other probing qualifiers are added to the question. How is the African identity constructed in the face of the mosaic of identities that people of African ancestry living within and beyond the continent bear? Do all categorised as Africans or as having an African pedigree perceive themselves as Africans? Are all who perceive themselves as Africans accepted as such? Are there levels of “Africanness”, and are some more African than others? How does African identity interface with other levels of identity and citizenship in Africa? And what are the implications of the contentious nature of African identity and citizenship for the projects of pan-Africanism, the making of the Africa-nation, and Africa’s development trajectories?

Flowing from the above, there are some elements in identity construction that we should bear in mind: One, every individual or group embodies a mosaic of identities, not just one identity. You may have people with different ethnic and religious identities but share several other identities in common such as being members of the same political party, the same sports club, the same profession, the same gender etc. Essentially, one can be both Igbo and Ikwerre if the person feels sufficiently anchored on both identities.

Two, identities that are perceived to be under threat will often be the ones most vociferously defended. Though we embody several identities, if your identity as an Igbo, Yoruba, Ikwerre, Christian, Muslim, an academic and so on, is perceived to be threatened, your other identities will be submerged while you defend the identity that is felt to be under threat. For instance a Black person called ‘Black Monkey’ by a White person may lead to several Black people from across the world responding very vigorously, if not violently. On the other hand, a White person who is called a ‘White monkey’ may not elicit a similar response among the White people.

Following from this, it is understandable why the Ogbakor Ikwerre Cultural Organisation Worldwide decided to descend hard on Senator Azuta-Mbata including literarily ex-communicating him from the Ikwerre community and nullifying any chieftaincy title conferred on him by any of the Ikwerre communities. Does the organization really have such powers over any Ikwerre person? I seriously doubt that. The hard-line position of Ogbakor Ikwerre Cultural Organisation Worldwide may be more to remind us that despite the election of Senator Azuta-Mbata as President General of Ohanaeze Ndigbo, the conversation on where the Ikwerres should anchor their ethnic identity remains inconclusive. 

Three, identities have both time and space dimensions. Up to the creation of the 12 states by Gowon in 1967, both the Ikwerres and the Igbos shared the identity of being from the Eastern region. In the same vein, if the Ikwerres were to find themselves in a distant country with people of different ethnic and racial backgrounds, including the Igbos of the South-East, they are likely to feel more connected to the latter than to other groups in the imagined country simply by virtue of their common (or similar language) and culture. 

The much-anticipated tax reforms initiated by President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s administration have become a battleground of competing interests, as the nation grapples with how to restructure its fiscal policies in a way that fosters growth while ensuring fairness. Four key tax bills, presented to the National Assembly in 2024, were supposed to set the stage for a new era of economic revitalization. Instead, they have ignited a series of debates that reveal deep fissures in Nigeria’s political economy. With state governors, major fiscal stakeholders, and the public all weighing in, the question remains: can the government navigate these choppy waters, or is it destined to crash upon the rocks of political resistance?
In the latest development, the Nigeria Governors’ Forum (NGF), representing the collective voice of all 36 state governors, issued a communiqué on January 16, 2025, signalling strong support for the overarching goal of reform, but expressing serious reservations about certain provisions of the bills. Their opposition, particularly to proposals on Value Added Tax (VAT) and Corporate Income Tax (CIT), has added another layer of complexity to an already fraught process. These concerns come at a time when the country’s fiscal policy is in urgent need of clarity, and the implications of these debates could be far-reaching.

VAT and CIT: Sticking Points in Reform

The debate over VAT has quickly become the focal point of the reforms. While the NGF has expressed its backing for the need to modernize Nigeria’s tax laws, it has strongly opposed any increase in VAT at this time. For an economy already burdened by inflation, rising costs of living, and economic policy shocks, a hike in VAT could exacerbate the financial strain on everyday Nigerians. From food to fuel, and basic services, the cost of living has soared, making any potential increase in the VAT rate a highly contentious issue.

The NGF’s opposition is not without merit. With many Nigerians already struggling to make ends meet, a VAT hike would be akin to adding insult to injury. The governors have also raised concerns about the distribution formula for VAT revenue, suggesting a more equitable approach that considers factors such as derivation and population distribution. In this, they argue that a 50% allocation based on equality, 30% based on derivation, and 20% based on population would better reflect the needs of the country’s diverse regions.

However, the proposed reforms are not only focused on VAT. The issue of CIT has also sparked significant debate. The NGF has opposed the reduction of CIT, largely due to the potential loss of revenue at the state level. This position reflects the governors’ concerns about the already strained financial situation of many states, which depend on federal allocations to meet their budgets.

Yet, reducing CIT could be an important tool in fostering business growth and economic development. Lowering the corporate tax rate could make Nigeria a more attractive destination for foreign investment, encouraging businesses to expand and create jobs. In the long term, this could result in higher economic output and a larger tax base, ultimately benefiting both the private and public sectors.
The Federal Government’s proposal to cut CIT is a gamble, but one that could potentially pay off if the right balance is struck. However, there is no denying that such a reduction would need to be carefully managed to ensure it doesn’t undermine essential state-level revenues, which are already under pressure.

TETFUND, NASENI, and NITDA: The Unseen Stakeholders

Another critical aspect of the tax reform debate centers on the handling of development funds for key agencies such as TETFUND (Tertiary Education Trust Fund), NASENI (National Agency for Science and Engineering Infrastructure), and NITDA (National Information Technology Development Agency). These agencies, which play crucial roles in education, technology, and infrastructure, have become the subject of controversy in the proposed reforms.

The NGF has called for the exclusion of a terminal clause for these agencies in the sharing of development levies, a position that highlights the governors’ concern about the potential erosion of funds meant for national development. These agencies rely on specific levies and allocations to support their vital work, and any changes to the distribution of these funds could have far-reaching consequences.

For instance, TETFUND is essential to Nigeria’s higher education system, ensuring that universities, polytechnics, and other tertiary institutions receive the financial support they need to develop infrastructure and improve academic standards. Any reduction in the funding available to TETFUND could lead to a deterioration in the quality of higher education, with long-term negative implications for the country’s human capital development.

Similarly, NASENI and NITDA play pivotal roles in the country’s push for technological advancement and infrastructure development. The funding these agencies receive supports crucial projects that could transform Nigeria’s technological landscape. Without adequate resources, these agencies could be left unable to fulfill their mandates, stalling progress in critical areas of the economy.
The NGF’s call for a more careful consideration of the funding mechanisms for these agencies is a valid concern, as reducing or altering the flow of funds could severely hamper Nigeria’s development goals.

A Flawed Budget: The Fallout from Miscalculations

If the National Assembly decide to align with the position of the NGF, it would have a direct impact on the 2025 appropriation of the Federal Government. It’s likely that the budget for the year was formulated based on the assumption that VAT would increase and CIT would be reduced, with projections reflecting these anticipated changes. Should these provisions be altered or blocked by the National Assembly, the Federal Government would be left with a budget built on faulty assumptions.

The ramifications of this could be significant. A shortfall in revenue, caused by the failure to implement the expected changes to VAT and CIT, would force the government to make tough decisions. It could either ramp up borrowing or scale back crucial projects in sectors like infrastructure, health, and education, areas that are already feeling the strain. Such adjustments could place additional pressure on an already fragile economy and lead to greater hardship for Nigerians. Essentially, the government may find itself scrambling to adjust its fiscal policy, possibly even revising its budget mid-year if the projected revenues fall short. In the end, these miscalculations could create an even deeper fiscal crisis and erode public confidence in the government’s ability to manage the economy effectively.

The Way Forward: Engagement and Dialogue

As the National Assembly deliberates on the proposed tax reforms, it is clear that more engagement and dialogue are needed between the federal government, state governments, and other key stakeholders. While the broader goal of tax reform is laudable, the implementation details are crucial. The government must carefully consider the concerns raised by the NGF and other stakeholders, and work to address these issues in a way that balances the need for revenue generation with the imperative to protect vulnerable Nigerians and foster business growth.
Ultimately, the success of these reforms will depend on the ability of all parties to find common ground and ensure that the tax system is both equitable and efficient. If the government can navigate these challenges, the reforms could lay the foundation for a stronger, more sustainable economy. However, if the government fails to address the concerns of stakeholders, the reforms could falter, and Nigeria’s fiscal future could be left in limbo.