Governors vs. Grassroots: Supreme Court’s Local Government Autonomy Ruling Faces Sabotage

Nearly nine months after the Supreme Court granted full financial autonomy to Nigeria’s 774 local government areas (LGAs), implementation of the historic judgment is being quietly sabotaged—this time from within.

Investigations by The PUNCH have uncovered a deepening standoff between the Federal Government and several state governors, many of whom have allegedly resorted to intimidation, threats, and policy delays to prevent local government chairmen from opening designated Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) accounts for direct allocation payments.

“Our governor has threatened us not to open accounts with the CBN for the direct payment of our allocation,” a visibly frustrated LGA chairman from a South-East state told The PUNCH, requesting anonymity out of fear of political retaliation.

According to the Supreme Court ruling, LGAs are to receive their monthly allocations directly from the Federation Account, a long-sought step towards grassroots development and financial independence. However, several chairmen across the country claim they are being coerced into compliance with governors’ preferences—including proposals to return 50% of their allocations in exchange for the right to open the accounts.

Federal Push, State Resistance

In response to the court ruling, the Federal Government set up a high-level implementation panel, which directed the CBN to open individual accounts for all LGAs. The Accountant-General of the Federation, Attorney-General Lateef Fagbemi (SAN), and key stakeholders have also been in negotiations to iron out implementation logistics.

But The PUNCH has learned that the CBN process has been sluggish, with only Delta State LGAs having submitted full account details to date. Compounding the delays are what sources describe as “stringent requirements” from the apex bank—such as the submission of two-month bank statements—posing logistical challenges for many LGAs.

An LGA chairman in the South-West explained, “All council areas here can’t meet up with the conditions because, frankly, governors have control of the accounts. They give us whatever they feel like.”

In Benue, a chairman revealed, “They (the governors) are pushing for us to open accounts in commercial banks instead. They know once it’s the CBN, they lose access to our funds.”

Federal Silence, Fragmented Compliance

The vacuum in presidential clarity is further muddying the waters. Though governors reportedly met with President Bola Tinubu to lobby for commercial bank accounts over CBN accounts, it remains unclear where the presidency stands.

In Nasarawa, where officials claim all CBN accounts are opened, the state’s NULGE chairman, Adamu Sharhabilu, expressed frustration: “We have yet to receive direct allocations. The money is still sent to Joint State-LGA Accounts.”

Another Nasarawa chairman contradicted this optimism, blaming the Federal Government for failure to bypass state structures and send allocations directly. “We have so many accounts ready to receive the money, but they won’t send it,” he lamented.

A Patchwork of Responses Nationwide

Across the country, compliance is uneven. In Kwara, NULGE boss Seun Oyinlade said, “We’re not aware any of our 16 LGAs have opened CBN accounts. We’ll only know when funds are paid.”

In Yobe, March salaries were reportedly still paid through the Ministry of Local Government, with no trace of direct payment implementation.

In Zamfara, ALGON chairman Alhaji Samaila Moriki admitted no accounts had been opened yet, citing the need for “further instructions.”

Meanwhile, in Jigawa, ALGON chairman Prof. Abdulrahman Salim insisted the process is “progressing,” with most administrative steps completed and biometric registration pending. But a NULGE source cast doubt, warning that governors could “change the process entirely” at will.

Even in Kano, where 44 LGAs await CBN verification, no accounts have been activated. “We’ve read about it in the newspapers,” said Garko LGA chairman Saminu Garko, highlighting the information vacuum between federal institutions and local authorities.

A Standoff with National Implications

The Supreme Court ruling had sparked hope for true devolution of power, ending decades of financial strangulation of LGAs by state governments. Yet, the fierce pushback from governors now threatens to render the landmark judgment toothless.

One chairman summarized the national mood:

“What’s the point of autonomy on paper if governors still hold the purse strings?”

As grassroots development stalls, pressure is mounting on the Federal Government to enforce compliance and on the CBN to ease its procedural barriers.

But unless decisive action is taken soon, the dream of an empowered third tier of government may remain just that—a dream.

Independence to Irrelevance: How Nigeria Is Now Governed in Exile

By George Omagbemi Sylvester

 

When Nigeria gained independence in 1960, there was a collective sigh of relief and pride. The shackles of colonial domination were cast off, and a new dawn beckoned with promises of self-determination, prosperity, and national dignity. But over six decades later, the hope that once inspired our founding fathers now lies buried under the rubble of poor leadership, foreign dependence, and a shocking lack of direction. Today, the bitter truth is this: Nigeria is no longer governed from Abuja, but from hotel suites and foreign palaces abroad.

President Bola Ahmed Tinubu is currently in France on what is being described—rather vaguely—as a “working visit,” while his Vice President, Kashim Shettima, is in Senegal for another official engagement. These frequent overseas excursions have become a defining feature of their administration. Far from isolated diplomatic efforts, they now represent a disturbing pattern: the government of Nigeria is effectively run from abroad, disconnected from the people and indifferent to the nation’s crises.

Since assuming office in May 2023, President Tinubu and Vice President Shettima have embarked on nearly 50 trips to over 30 countries, spending a combined total of nearly 200 days outside Nigeria. Countries visited include France (multiple times), the United Kingdom, the United States, Saudi Arabia, India, Qatar, Kenya, South Africa, the Netherlands, and the UAE. While some of these visits were linked to multilateral conferences or investment summits, the opacity surrounding many of the trips—especially those to France and the UK—raises serious questions. Are these truly “working visits,” or are they cleverly disguised medical vacations?

Even if we concede the need for international diplomacy and outreach, the timing, frequency, and sheer disregard for domestic issues are appalling. Nigeria today is a nation in distress. From widespread insecurity—banditry, kidnappings, assassinations—to rampant unemployment, food inflation, and a collapsing naira, the country is bleeding on all fronts. In such a moment of national crisis, one would expect a president to stay grounded, to lead from the front, not from Paris or Dubai.

What is even more infuriating is the repeated justification for these junkets: “securing foreign investment.” But must we travel cap in hand to foreign lands begging for investment? What have these trips yielded in tangible economic value? Where are the factories built, the jobs created, or the capital inflows attributed directly to these travels? Apart from the Obasanjo/Atiku administration—which famously negotiated the Paris Club debt relief and expanded the telecoms and banking sectors—what legacy of foreign investment has any administration after 2007 left behind?

Tinubu’s handlers claim his economic diplomacy is strategic, but the reality on the ground says otherwise. Foreign investors are not flocking to Nigeria. In fact, they are leaving in droves. In the past year alone, major multinational firms like Procter & Gamble, GlaxoSmithKline, and Sanofi have either scaled down operations or exited Nigeria entirely. Why? The reasons are glaring: harsh business conditions, unpredictable policies, skyrocketing inflation, over-taxation, and a regulatory environment that chokes innovation.

According to the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS), capital importation into Nigeria dropped by over 30% in 2023, with many investors citing insecurity, policy inconsistency, and forex instability as major deterrents. No investor wants to commit capital to a nation where there is no power, no infrastructure, and no clear plan.

Instead of chasing foreign capital abroad, why not fix the fundamentals at home? Provide power. Ensure security. Simplify taxation. Uphold the rule of law. These are the things that attract investors—not foreign handshakes and photo ops in European capitals.

Furthermore, no foreign investor will commit to a nation that cannot feed itself. Nigeria’s food crisis is spiraling out of control. Inflation on staple items has crossed 30%, and hunger now stares millions in the face. Yet, farmers cannot access their farmlands due to insecurity. What serious economic policy can ignore food security as a cornerstone of national development?

If Tinubu truly seeks to attract investment, let him start by making the country safe. Investors—local or foreign—thrive in a climate of peace and predictability. No businessman will invest in a country where kidnappers roam free, terrorists ambush highways, and the national grid collapses every other week.

It is also worth noting that Nigeria’s foreign policy has become one of aimless wandering. Where is our national interest in all these trips? What bilateral gains have we negotiated? What trade deals have been signed? What is our Africa policy? Are we leading the continent or being led? A nation of over 200 million people—Africa’s largest economy and most populous nation—should not be a diplomatic drifter without compass or credibility.

The truth is that Nigeria’s leadership under the current APC administration lacks a coherent vision. This is a government that believes in photo-ops more than policy, appearances more than substance. Leadership is not travel. Leadership is staying close to the people, understanding their pain, and crafting bold solutions that inspire hope.

But there is hope. Nigeria has not completely run out of options. One man, who played a significant role in steering Nigeria towards prosperity in the early 2000s, still stands tall with a track record that speaks louder than rhetoric. Former Vice President Atiku Abubakar, the Waziri of Adamawa, remains a voice of reason and a repository of experience.

Atiku was instrumental in the economic transformation witnessed during the Obasanjo years—privatizing inefficient public enterprises, attracting foreign investment, and securing international debt forgiveness. He understands governance. He understands economics. And more importantly, he understands the Nigerian people.

While others run from the nation’s problems, Atiku has consistently offered solutions. He has warned against excessive borrowing, called for restructuring, and emphasized the need for economic diversification. He is not a perfect man, but he is a prepared man—prepared to rescue Nigeria from the edge of the abyss.

It is time Nigerians looked beyond propaganda and tribal loyalty. We must rise and demand accountability, dignity, and real leadership. The presidency is not a retirement home or a travel agency. It is the most sacred responsibility in the land. Let us not continue in silence as our nation is governed remotely by absentee leaders more concerned with their comfort than our future.

Let us support leaders who live among us, feel our pain, and are willing to make the hard choices needed to reposition our country. Let us support Atiku Abubakar and others like him in their effort to recover, rebuild, and reimagine Nigeria. Our country deserves more than foreign pity—it deserves true leadership.

God bless the Federal Republic of Nigeria.

George Omagbemi Sylvester writes from Johannesburg, South Africa.

Power to Poison: How Toxic Politics Is Destroying Nigeria’s Democracy and Future

By George Omagbemi Sylvester

 

Nigeria’s political landscape in 2025 is best described as a battlefield of corruption, impunity, and institutional decay. Toxic politics has infested all arms of government—from the executive to the legislature and the judiciary—crippling national development and eroding public trust. Power is no longer a tool for service; it has become a weapon for suppression, self-enrichment, and systemic injustice. As the nation grapples with economic stagnation and widespread insecurity, the conduct of its political elite continues to alienate the populace and entrench hopelessness.

Executive Overreach: A Democracy Under Siege

In March 2025, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu stunned the nation by declaring a state of emergency in Rivers State, Nigeria’s oil-producing heartland. The federal government suspended the duly elected governor, deputy governor, and all members of the state assembly, citing uncontained pipeline vandalism and militant activities. In their place, a retired vice admiral was appointed to oversee the state’s affairs for six months.

This executive action, seen by many as a constitutional overreach, drew swift condemnation from legal experts, civil society, and opposition leaders. The Nigerian Bar Association (NBA) described the act as “a dangerous usurpation of democratic authority and a slide toward authoritarianism.” Legal analysts warned that allowing the president to unilaterally suspend elected officials under vague security pretenses sets a terrifying precedent—one where democracy can be dismantled on a whim.

The international community, including the African Union and ECOWAS, expressed concern over the erosion of Nigeria’s federal structure. While Tinubu’s administration defended its move as necessary to restore order, many see it as a political maneuver to neutralize dissent in a state known for opposition leanings.

The Rot in the Legislature: Corruption, Sexism, and Retribution
Toxicity in the legislative arm was on full display when Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan accused Senate President Godswill Akpabio of sexual harassment and political intimidation. Rather than addressing the serious allegations, the Senate retaliated by suspending her for six months over unrelated claims of “disruptive behavior.” The timing of the suspension raised widespread suspicion, and critics described it as a blatant abuse of parliamentary power.

The suspension ignited protests across the country under the slogan “We Are All Natasha.” Women’s groups and human rights organizations condemned the Senate’s action as misogynistic and retaliatory, exposing the entrenched patriarchy within Nigeria’s highest lawmaking body. Despite boasting over 100 senators, only about 8% are women, a glaring statistic that reflects the systemic barriers to female political participation.

Meanwhile, numerous legislators continue to face allegations of budget padding, contract inflation, and illegal constituency project allocations—yet few have been held accountable. The legislature has become a sanctuary for corrupt elites, shielded by procedural immunity and partisan loyalty.

Judiciary on Trial: Corruption, Compromise, and Complicity
The judiciary, theoretically the last hope of the common man, has not been spared. In 2024, the National Judicial Council (NJC) sanctioned multiple judges—two were compulsorily retired for falsifying their ages, and two others suspended for bribery-related offenses. But these internal corrective measures have failed to cleanse the judiciary of its deep-seated corruption.

A damning report by the National Bureau of Statistics in collaboration with the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC) in late 2024 ranked the judiciary as Nigeria’s most corrupt institution. Judges were found to be the highest recipients of bribes, surpassing police officers and tax officials.

This perception is damaging not just for the judiciary but for the rule of law itself. Lengthy trial procedures, endless adjournments, and politically influenced verdicts have become the norm. In several high-profile corruption cases, suspects walked free due to “lack of evidence,” despite overwhelming public documentation and media investigations.

The Patience Jonathan Saga: Power, Privilege, and Injustice
In a disturbing episode that underscores Nigeria’s elite impunity, former First Lady Patience Jonathan reportedly had several of her aides imprisoned for six years over allegations of stealing her jewelry—items that, according to investigative reports, were themselves acquired from looted public funds.

These aides, held without fair trial or substantive evidence, were denied basic legal rights. It was only after a protracted legal battle and pressure from human rights organizations that the truth began to emerge: not only were the allegations fabricated, but the items in question were part of illicitly acquired assets linked to public funds looted during her husband’s administration.

This saga is not just a tale of personal vendetta—it is a chilling reminder of how power in Nigeria is often weaponized against the powerless. The victims were collateral damage in a broader culture of impunity, where the elite operate above the law while ordinary citizens suffer the consequences of their greed and abuse.

Economic Cost of Corruption: A Nation Bleeding
Nigeria’s economic woes are inseparable from its political corruption. The Anti-Corruption Agencies of Nigeria estimate that over $18 billion is lost annually to graft and financial crimes—an amount equivalent to nearly 4% of Nigeria’s GDP in 2022. The impact is felt across every sector: failing hospitals, underfunded schools, collapsed infrastructure, and rising poverty.

Notable scandals like the Malabu Oil deal, the $2.1 billion arms deal under former National Security Adviser Sambo Dasuki, and Diezani Alison-Madueke’s luxury asset seizures in the UK and US have become symbols of elite plunder. In 2025, the U.S. repatriated $52.88 million in assets linked to Alison-Madueke, including high-end real estate and a luxury yacht. While such recoveries are welcome, they are mere drops in an ocean of stolen wealth.

Anti-Corruption Battles: Justice or Just Optics?
The Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) boasts over 1,000 convictions, but critics argue that many are token victories. The agency is frequently accused of being a political tool—swift to prosecute opposition figures but slow to act against allies of the ruling party.

Institutional weaknesses plague anti-corruption efforts. The EFCC and Independent Corrupt Practices Commission (ICPC) are underfunded, politically manipulated, and struggle with outdated laws. Most corruption trials stretch for years, with wealthy defendants exploiting legal loopholes and endless adjournments.

The Way Forward: Reforms or Ruin
To break the cycle of toxic politics, Nigeria must pursue deep institutional reforms. These include:

Judicial Independence: Secure tenure and adequate funding for judges, alongside digital case management systems to prevent manipulation and delay.

Legislative Accountability: Open parliament sessions, public access to legislative votes, and stringent asset declarations.

Executive Restraint: Clear constitutional limits on presidential powers, with stronger checks from state governments and civil society.

Civic Engagement: Mass civic education and support for independent media to foster public awareness and accountability.

International Partnerships: Continued collaboration with global agencies for asset tracking, prosecution, and repatriation.

Nigeria can draw lessons from countries like Botswana and Rwanda, which have significantly reduced corruption through technology-driven governance, transparent budgeting, and rigorous law enforcement.

A Nation at the Crossroads
Nigeria’s political class has turned public office into a theatre of toxic ambition and moral bankruptcy. The executive abuses power, the legislature is riddled with corruption, and the judiciary is compromised. This triad of dysfunction not only sabotages national progress but endangers the very fabric of the democratic state.

Only a united citizenry, armed with truth, vigilance, and civic action, can reclaim Nigeria from the grip of political decay. The time to act is now—before the last remnants of justice, equity, and accountability are completely extinguished.