From power broker to president, Tinubu must remember how to govern, By Folahan Johnson

Whatever one may think of Tinubu’s eight-year reign as governor of Lagos State, there is no denying that it became his calling card. He parlayed it into a sixteen-year grip on national politics, positioning himself as a kingmaker, while sidestepping executive responsibility. But therein lies the problem: governance is a muscle that must be exercised. Tinubu has spent too long politicking, and now that he’s in office, he seems to have forgotten how to govern.

When Bola Ahmed Tinubu emerged as president in 2023, many Nigerians, willingly or, like me, grudgingly, gave him the benefit of the doubt. What choice do we have in a political terrain like ours, with a reputation for questionable electoral processes? But like any conscious, democratically minded person, we hoped that the president, as he promised during his inaugural speech, would be stripped of every political colouration to focus on governance. His reputation as the mastermind behind Lagos’ transformation into Nigeria’s most bankable state served as his political capital. It was, for many, the proof that he had both the vision and the machinery to steer Nigeria through its murky waters. But two years into his presidency, that promise now appears dangerously hollow.

Whatever one may think of Tinubu’s eight-year reign as governor of Lagos State, there is no denying that it became his calling card. He parlayed it into a sixteen-year grip on national politics, positioning himself as a kingmaker, while sidestepping executive responsibility. But therein lies the problem: governance is a muscle that must be exercised. Tinubu has spent too long politicking, and now that he’s in office, he seems to have forgotten how to govern.

The Peril of Perpetual Politics

Since assuming office, President Tinubu has not taken his foot off the campaign pedal. From choreographed defections of state governors to televised door-to-door mobilisation by his political base in Abuja and across key battleground states, the 2027 election campaign is already in motion, barely halfway through his first term. The optics are troubling. At a time when Nigeria needs a government singularly focused on solving its deepest economic crises, what it has instead is a ruling party consumed by its next power grab.

The president appears more invested in expanding his party’s political control than in laying the foundation for sound economic reforms or strengthening institutions. It is no wonder that policy direction seems confused, citizen confidence is evaporating, and the administration increasingly operates like a political campaign with no exit strategy.

A Fugazi Economy in Freefall

This political distraction comes when Nigeria’s economy continues to underperform in real terms. I often have described this as a fugazi economy, a term borrowed from street slang meaning fake or deceptive. While official statistics may show GDP growth, inflationary pressures, a weakened naira, shrinking purchasing power, and collapsing small businesses tell a very different story.

Subsidy removal, forex reforms, and fiscal reengineering were supposed to usher in long-term economic stabilisation. But in the absence of institutional readiness, safety nets, and a coordinated strategy, these reforms have triggered widespread hardship. Transportation costs have doubled. Food prices have spiked to historic highs. The informal economy, the largest employer of Nigeria’s working population, is collapsing under inflation, taxes, and poor access to credit. Still, the presidency and key ministers insist on defending policies that, for many citizens, are only causing deeper economic suffocation.

Let’s talk about Lagos and the sometimes overstated reality of its economic development without context. Tinubu’s myth of competence is rooted in Lagos, a state he governed from 1999 to 2007, and whose trajectory he continues to claim credit for. But Lagos, in reality, is a paradox: a state that earns like a modern metropolis but lives like a neglected ghetto. It generated over ₦582.45 billion in Q1 2025 alone, yet it remains one of the most unliveable cities in the world.

The Cabinet of Cronies

Many Nigerians, especially those who reluctantly supported him, expected the president to replicate his Lagos strategy of appointing capable technocrats with the courage to reform broken systems. Yet in Abuja, that legacy has been discarded. Instead of competence, the president has leaned into cronyism, distributing critical cabinet portfolios as rewards for political loyalty.

Minister Betta Edu was suspended over the now-infamous N585 million direct transfer scandal at the Ministry of Humanitarian Affairs, where public funds were moved into private accounts, violating procurement laws. The subsequent investigation didn’t just stop at her desk. It exposed a larger rot within the National Social Investment Programmes, with billions of naira mismanaged over successive administrations. The EFCC also invited former Minister Sadiya Umar Farouq to explain the disbursement of N37.1 billion under her watch.

At the NNPC, Mele Kyari’s retention as the group head raised even more questions. Despite persistent outcry over the opacity in subsidy payments, missing revenues, and the absence of publicly audited accounts, Tinubu doubled down on Kyari, shielding him while citizens demanded reform until it was no longer politically valuable to keep doing so. The result? Worsening public trust and continued mismanagement of Nigeria’s most strategic revenue-generating asset. Today, Kyari and top executives of the national oil company are being probed by the EFCC, barely a month after they were replaced.

The education sector has fared no better. Nigeria is grappling with over 20 million out-of-school children, yet no clear national plan exists to reverse the trend. The appointment of Tahir Mamman, a loyalist with party credentials but no groundbreaking policy vision, signals a preference for appeasement over urgency. University unions remain agitated, school infrastructure crumbles, and public education deteriorates (The Guardian, March 2024).

In the power sector, the story is equally dire. Minister Adebayo Adelabu, a former APC gubernatorial aspirant, has offered little to no reform direction. His public statements — such as blaming estate developers for nationwide power failures — reflect detachment and a lack of sectoral expertise. Despite recurring national grid collapses and tariff hikes, the sector remains locked in failure (Channels TV, November 2023). The pattern is the same in each case: political loyalty above technical competence, and governance sacrificed on the altar of patronage.

Lagos Is Not a Template, It’s a Mirage

Let’s talk about Lagos and the sometimes overstated reality of its economic development without context. Tinubu’s myth of competence is rooted in Lagos, a state he governed from 1999 to 2007, and whose trajectory he continues to claim credit for. But Lagos, in reality, is a paradox: a state that earns like a modern metropolis but lives like a neglected ghetto. It generated over ₦582.45 billion in Q1 2025 alone, yet it remains one of the most unliveable cities in the world.

In the 2023 Global Liveability Index by the Economist Intelligence Unit, Lagos ranked 170th out of 173 cities globally, making it one of the worst places to live on earth (EIU, 2023). That’s not just an embarrassment. It’s an indictment.

Under Tinubu’s tutelage, a version of Nigeria’s future is already playing out in Lagos, and it’s not the shining model we were sold. Despite its wealth, Lagos is held hostage by informal power structures, elite capture, and policy theatre. Public funds are diverted into white-elephant projects, while basic needs, education, electricity, and clean water go unmet.

Traffic congestion costs Lagos trillions annually in lost productivity, while its environmental systems are collapsing under seasonal floods and uncollected waste. Its public schools are overcrowded and underfunded. Healthcare access is privatised and unaffordable for the poor. For all its revenue, Lagos remains a city where dignity is a luxury.

This is the Lagos model: glossy infrastructure masking rotting systems. If this is what Tinubu plans to scale to the rest of Nigeria, then we must collectively reject it.

A World Reorganising, A Nation Asleep

The rest of the world is moving. Trade routes are shifting, global alliances are getting redrawn, and manufacturing bases are relocating. From Vietnam to Kenya, countries are repositioning to take advantage of the moment. Nigeria, however, is still obsessed with political mobilisation and internal propaganda. We are watching the global economy reorganise, and we’re not even on the map.

If We Don’t Wake Up, Nigeria Will Become Lagos: Rich On Paper, Rotten In Reality.

Under Tinubu’s tutelage, a version of Nigeria’s future is already playing out in Lagos, and it’s not the shining model we were sold. Despite its wealth, Lagos is held hostage by informal power structures, elite capture, and policy theatre. Public funds are diverted into white-elephant projects, while basic needs, education, electricity, and clean water go unmet.

This is not development. This is managed decline.

If Nigerians fail to demand more, demand authentic leadership, real governance, and real reform, the rest of Nigeria will become a country that earns billions but delivers poor governance, a country where the few live like kings while the rest queue for fuel, water, and hope.

The presidency must stop pointing to Lagos as evidence of competence. Because the truth is, even Lagos is barely working. And if we don’t push back, Nigeria will become its nationalised version, where money flows upward and dignity collapses downward.

It’s time to choose between illusion and reform, silence and accountability. History is watching.

Folahan Johnson is a public policy analyst and enterprise innovation consultant. He leads Switch Advisory and the Centre for Inclusive Social Development, where he supports systems reform, governance innovation, and inclusive development initiatives across Nigeria.