Special to USAfrica magazine (Houston) and USAfricaonline.com, the first Africa-owned, US-based newspaper published on the Internet.
By The Editorial Board, USAfricaonline.com
The International Monetary Fund’s (IMF) decision to upgrade Nigeria’s 2026 economic growth forecast to 4.4 percent constitutes a significant diplomatic victory for the federal government. For an administration that has staked its reputation on tough, often unpopular market reforms, this validation from Bretton Woods serves as “proof of concept”—a signal to foreign investors that the macroeconomic bleeding has stopped and the patient is stabilizing.
However, for the average Nigerian navigating the bustling markets of Lagos, the farm settlements of the Middle Belt, or the trade hubs of Aba, this 0.2 percent upgrade is merely a statistic that offers no shelter from the storm of the daily cost-of-living crisis.
There exists today a jarring disconnect between the sanitized spreadsheets of Washington D.C. and the gritty reality of the Nigerian street. To the IMF, “growth” is a measure of Gross Domestic Product (GDP), fiscal buffers, and balance of payments. But to the Nigerian citizen, “growth” is the affordability of a bag of rice, the availability of fuel without queues, and the value of the Naira in their pocket. By these local metrics, the reported recovery feels illusory.
The tragedy of Nigeria’s recent economic history is the phenomenon of “jobless growth”—where GDP expands without a corresponding reduction in poverty or unemployment. If the projected 4.4 percent growth is driven solely by a rebound in oil revenues or the banking sector’s windfall profits from high interest rates, it will do nothing to alleviate the misery of the masses. It will simply widen the inequality gap, creating a wealthier state apparatus presiding over an increasingly impoverished citizenry.
Furthermore, the IMF’s praise often focuses on “fiscal discipline”—a euphemism that, in the Nigerian context, has translated to the removal of subsidies and aggressive tax drives. While these may balance the government’s books, they have uncorked inflationary pressures that have decimated the middle class and pushed millions below the poverty line. The applause for “stabilization” rings hollow when the cost of stability is the erosion of the average family’s purchasing power.
We must also remain wary of the sources of this projected growth. The IMF report explicitly ties Nigeria’s fortunes to OPEC+ production management and oil prices. This indicates that despite years of rhetoric regarding diversification, the Nigerian economy remains dangerously tethered to the volatile crude oil market. We are still one geopolitical shock away from a crisis.
The challenge for the Tinubu administration, therefore, is to move beyond the validation of international lenders and seek the validation of its people. Statistical recovery is the easy part; human recovery is the real work. The government must ensure that this “growth” trickles down. This requires moving from merely taxing the populace to empowering them—investing in security so farmers can return to fields to lower food inflation, fixing the power sector to energize SMEs, and ensuring that the gains from these reforms are not swallowed by the machinery of government but are deployed into robust social safety nets.
Until the 4.4 percent growth rate translates into 4.4 percent more jobs, or a tangible reduction in the price of food, the IMF’s forecast will remain what it is: a paper victory in a time of palpable hardship.
