Economic Maestro, Tinubu Puts Nigerian Economy on Dead Reckoning with N187 Trillion Debt
Once upon a time, in the bustling, ever-dramatic land of Nigeria, where reality often feels like a satirical novel gone rogue, there emerged an economic maestro—none other than T-pain a.k.a Tinubu. With the finesse of a magician pulling rabbits out of an empty hat, Tinubu has managed to achieve what many thought impossible: doubling Nigeria’s debt to a jaw-dropping N187 trillion in just over a year. No fuel subsidy, no magic oil price boom, just pure, undiluted economic wizardry.
Let’s take a stroll down debt lane, shall we?
In the beginning, there was Goodluck Jonathan, affectionately dubbed the “clueless” one. His crime? Leaving Nigeria with a modest debt of N12 trillion while generously sprinkling fuel subsidy like confetti at a wedding. He believed in keeping fuel prices bearable, even if it meant borrowing a little here, a little there. But of course, Nigerians wanted more. They craved vision, competence, and—most importantly—change. Enter Muhammadu Buhari, the man with the charisma of a concrete slab but the promises of a motivational speaker on steroids.
Buhari, hailed as the anti-corruption messiah, took Nigeria’s debt from N12 trillion to a cool N77 trillion in just eight years. That’s not incompetence, that’s talent. Under his watch, the economy danced to the rhythm of “borrow, spend, rinse, repeat.” But hey, give the man some credit (pun intended); he still paid fuel subsidies and maintained a reasonable fx rate.
But then came Tinubu, the world renowned grandmaster maestro. Forget “clueless” or “incompetent.” This was the era of strategy, brilliance, and, dare we say, economic artistry. In a masterstroke that would make even Houdini raise an eyebrow, Tinubu managed to double the national debt to N187 trillion—without the pesky burden of fuel subsidies. That’s right, no subsidies, no safety nets, just raw, unfiltered debt.
Now, some naysayers might ask, “Where did all the money go?” Silly question. It’s like asking where your mobile data disappears to—you used it, but can you really explain how? Nigeria’s debt has become the economic version of a bottomless pit: money goes in, echoes come out.
Tinubu’s approach to economic management can be best described as “dead reckoning.” For the uninitiated, that’s a nautical term where you navigate based on your last known position, without ing for external factors like currents or, in this case, common sense. It’s the financial equivalent of driving blindfolded because, technically, you know the road—until you don’t.
While previous leaders borrowed with at least a semblance of purpose—subsidies, infrastructure, fighting imaginary wars against poverty—Tinubu’s debt strategy is refreshingly avant-garde. It’s borrowing for the sake of borrowing, a performance art piece where the audience is left wondering if they missed the plot or if there was never one to begin with.
When Tinubu boldly declared, “subsidy is gone,” Nigerians thought they’d finally see economic relief. Fuel prices would stabilize, government coffers would swell, and maybe—just maybe—someone would fix that pothole on your street that’s old enough to vote. Instead, we got skyrocketing fuel prices, hyperinflation, and the kind of debt figures that make calculators begin to act funny.
But let’s be fair. Tinubu’s strategy is clearly working—for someone. Contracts are being signed, loans are being secured, and international lenders are probably popping champagne somewhere in Paris or Beijing. After all, Nigeria is that friend who keeps borrowing money with the confidence of someone who’ll never pay back, yet somehow still gets approved for more credit.
At this point, Nigeria’s debt isn’t just a financial figure—it’s a national identity. Forget the green-white-green flag; our true colors are black and red, inked boldly on loan agreements worldwide. We’ve borrowed from the IMF, the World Bank, China, and probably that guy down the street who “knows someone.”
But what’s truly impressive is how debt has evolved from being an economic concern to an art form. Tinubu has redefined fiscal responsibility. Why focus on balancing budgets when you can simply… not? Why worry about revenue when you can just borrow more? It’s revolutionary, really.
A debt so big, it’s practically a landmark. N187 trillion isn’t just a number—it’s a statement. It’s the economic equivalent of climbing Mount Everest and planting a flag that says, “We made it… to the top of the debt mountain.” Tinubu’s government isn’t just participating in the debt race; they’re setting new world records.
Think about it. In just over a year, we’ve managed to accumulate more debt than some countries have in their entire history. That’s not failure; that’s dedication. You don’t just stumble into N187 trillion of debt—you have to work for it.
The Future Looks… Expensive
So, what’s next for Nigeria’s economy? Well, if history is any guide, we’ll probably borrow more. Maybe we’ll hit N300 trillion by 2027. Why not? At this rate, the national budget will just be a list of people Nigeria owes money to.
Of course, there’s always the hope that someone, somewhere, will ask the hard questions. Like, “How do we pay this back?” But that’s a problem for another day—or another istration. After all, the beauty of democracy is that by the time the debt collectors come knocking, there’s a new guy in office to blame.
Final Notes from the Maestro’s Economic Master Strategy
Tinubu’s economic strategy is bold, audacious, and refreshingly indifferent to basic ing principles. While previous leaders flirted with debt, Tinubu took it out for dinner, proposed, and moved in together.
So, the next time you hear someone complain about the continuous rising cost of living, fuel prices, or why the government can’t seem to fix anything, just smile and say, “It’s all part of the maestro’s plan.” After all, you can’t spell “debt” without “B,” for Bola.
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