– Nigerians want transparency, tangible relief, and trust from Abuja’s reforms
Port Harcourt — When President Bola Tinubu declared the end of Nigeria’s petrol subsidy on inauguration day, the effect was immediate and visceral. Commuters watched fares jump between morning and evening trips. Market traders recalibrated prices overnight. Households rewrote budgets by candlelight, stretching naira notes that suddenly felt thinner. The pump price shock seeped into everything: food and transport, rent and school fees, hospital visits and the cost of doing business. Months later, as a sweeping new tax regime promises to reshape how the country raises and manages money, a quieter question now hums beneath the noise: what has the pain delivered?
For many citizens, the answer lies not in another policy, but in proof. Proof that the sacrifice of subsidy removal and the ambition of tax reform can translate into lower daily costs, better public services, and a fairer economic deal. Without it, trust remains the scarcest commodity in Nigeria’s marketplace.
A Reform Story Told Through Receipts
The government’s case is clear: Nigeria’s old fiscal model, cheap petrol, weak tax intake, heavy borrowing was unsustainable. The new tax architecture consolidates laws, targets a higher tax-to-GDP ratio, protects small companies with exemptions, and promises equity by shifting burdens upward. On paper, it is modern, tidy, and overdue.
But features of a good policy don’t automatically become features of daily life. In Alimosho, a micro-transport operator describes “math that no longer adds up”: higher fuel, higher parts, and customers with less to spend. In Kaduna, a rice retailer speaks of “silent inflation,” where more customers buy in cups, not bags. A private school owner in Port Harcourt lists a new line item on her termly memo: “fuel contingency.” These are the ledgers by which people audit reform.
Citizens aren’t demanding miracles. They are asking for receipts. Where are the subsidy savings? Which feeder roads were fixed? Which hospitals are stocked? Which schools fed? Which SMEs got practical tax relief? In a country where faith in institutions is frequently betrayed, transparency is not a courtesy; it is the reform.
What Doing Things Differently Could Look Like
– Publish a subsidy savings ledger: monthly inflows, balances, disbursements, and projects down to location, contractor, and milestones. Let the Auditor-General and independent firms verify and let the public see the summaries in plain language.
– Deliver quick, visible cost relief: stabilize mass transit with time-bound support and transparent fare caps; release food buffer stocks and clear logistics bottlenecks; accelerate prepaid metering and CNG options for transport and SMEs.
– Make taxes feel fair and simple: if small firms under ₦100m turnover are exempt, make it automatic through tax IDs and bank data—no extra forms, no queues. Put everything in one digital portal, kill nuisance taxes in practice, and resolve micro-SME disputes in days, not months.
– Ring-fence revenue for basics people can touch: the roads that move food, the power feeders that keep machines humming, the water projects that cut household costs. Open sites to media and citizen observers every quarter.
– Enforce accountability with consequences: service-level standards for the new revenue service, published audit outcomes, and protected whistleblowing with rewards. Credibility grows when abuse is punished and good service is standard.
– Protect the vulnerable by rule, not discretion: time-bound cash transfers with verified registries and ward-level counts; zero-rated VAT on essentials enforced at the point of sale; school meals and basic healthcare waivers in the poorest LGAs funded from a fixed share of savings.
– Communicate like a steward, not a salesman: monthly joint briefings by Finance, NRS, CBN, and Budget, backed by live dashboards. Invite labour, SMEs, and professional bodies into oversight not as spectators, but as co-owners.
Trust, the Unpriced Variable
Nigeria’s currency struggles reflect more than economics; they mirror confidence. When investors, exporters, and citizens believe rules won’t shift without warning, they plan, invest, and comply. A transparent FX auction calendar, clear repatriation rules, and honest reporting of backlogs won’t solve everything, but they signal a country serious about keeping its word.
In the end, reform is less a policy package than a relationship. Nigerians have carried the weight of higher prices with muted resilience, waiting for signs that the trade-off has a payoff. The new tax regime could be a turning point if it is administered with the humility to show, not tell.
The morning queues at bus stops, the shorter portions in buka bowls, the dimmed lights in workshops, these are the daily bulletins of public confidence. To change the headlines, Abuja must do something radical in its simplicity: count the savings, spend them where people feel it, and let the nation see every step.
Confidence won’t be won by decree. It will be earned line by line, project by project, receipt by receipt.
