https://linktr.ee/RichmondAmadi

Richmond Amadi, Lagos (2025)

29/07/2025

They're now worried on how Peter Obi spends his private hardly earned money

29/07/2025

Nigeria’s Search for the Dapchi Girls: A Mission of Conscience or a Misplaced Priority?

The search for the Dapchi girls abducted in 2018 was once a rallying cry for a grieving nation. Today, in the face of deepening poverty, food insecurity, and nationwide suffering, it has become something else—a difficult and uncomfortable question.

At what cost?

In February 2018, Boko Haram kidnapped 110 schoolgirls from a girls' school in Dapchi, Yobe State. Within a month, 104 were returned. One, Leah Sharibu, remains in captivity. Years later, the federal government insists it is still searching.

But while the search continues, Nigeria bleeds.

Inflation has crossed 34 percent. Food inflation is over 40. Water, bread, rice, everything has become unaffordable. Millions are slipping into poverty, and the cries for rescue today are not just from classrooms in the northeast. They are from families in Lagos, in Kano, in Port Harcourt. From children who go to bed without food. From parents who cannot send their children to school, not because of terrorists, but because of hunger.

The government defends its search with moral conviction. It speaks of duty. Of dignity. Of never leaving a citizen behind. It reminds the world of Chibok. Of global campaigns. Of promises made. And yes, the principle matters.

But principles do not feed the hungry. Promises do not pay salaries. And moral victories do not rebuild broken systems.

The rescue efforts once involved drones, air force sorties, negotiations, even silent deals. Yet by 2025, Leah Sharibu is still not home. Dozens of Chibok girls remain missing. New abductions now happen almost monthly. In the first quarter of 2024 alone, nearly 1,000 people were kidnapped. The strategy has not evolved. The cycle has not broken.

And this is the heart of the matter: How long can a nation pour energy and money into symbolic justice while neglecting the very systems that create the conditions for tragedy?

What Nigeria needs is not just rescue missions. It needs a rescue plan, for its economy, for its schools, for its security architecture.

Because the root causes are clear. A bloated, centralized security structure that cannot respond to local threats. A broken school system that leaves millions of children out. A hunger crisis that pushes young men into insurgency. A government too slow to reform, too proud to admit failure.

The Safe Schools Initiative launched after Chibok was supposed to fix this. But today, schools remain soft targets. Parents keep their daughters home. Education becomes a risk. Not a right.

And all the while, public trust fades.

Reports of military corruption. Of ignored warnings. Of informants who were silenced. Of missions compromised from within. The people know. They see the waste. They feel the neglect. They are not fooled.

Yes, the rescue of one child matters. But so does the survival of a million others.

That is why people are growing restless. The protests in August 2024 were not about just one issue. They were about all of them. About the feeling that government is looking the other way while the people starve.

You cannot feed a nation’s soul while its stomach is empty. You cannot save one child while losing a generation.

What is needed now is balance.

Decentralize security. Give states power to protect their schools and markets. Fund education. Implement school safety protocols that work. End the looting of defense budgets. Let cash transfers reach the poor. Let agriculture grow again. Tackle poverty where it begins, in the belly, in the classroom, in the street.

The Dapchi girls deserve justice. But Nigeria deserves more than slogans. It deserves a future.

A country that wants to end abductions must start by ending the desperation that feeds them.

And if this government truly wants to protect its citizens, then it must stop chasing headlines and start solving problems.

Because symbolism will not save Nigeria. Only solutions will.

29/07/2025

What a way to define a morron

29/07/2025

If you're a trader, vine is in right position

TP - 0.16000
SL - 0.14700

28/07/2025

Nigeria is not short of champions. From the roar of the Super Eagles to the fire of Tobi Amusan’s hurdles, the country’s athletes have carved names into world history. Men and women. Track and field. Football and basketball. They have all risen, often with little, sometimes with nothing, but always with pride.

Yet behind every medal is a fight. Behind every record, a struggle. The story of Nigerian sports is one of talent in chains.

The Super Eagles still carry the weight of past glory. AFCON wins in 1980, 1994, and 2013. A gold in Atlanta ‘96. FIFA rankings that remind the world they belong in the global conversation. But even with stars like Victor Osimhen lighting up Europe, the system behind the scenes is still broken. Matches won on the pitch, bonuses lost in the boardroom.

The Super Falcons have been even more dominant. Ten WAFCON titles. A near permanent seat at the Women’s World Cup since 1991. Asisat Oshoala. Chiamaka Nnadozie. Icons born in adversity. But they are also the most disrespected. Unpaid bonuses. Poor preparation. Constant neglect. They win in spite of the system, not because of it.

In track and field, the stories are no different. Sunday Bada and Innocent Egbunike left legacies that still echo. Today, names like Esther Elo Joseph, Olayinka Olajide, and Chioma Onyekwere are making waves. Tobi Amusan didn’t just break records. She broke barriers. But for every rising athlete, there are ten more left behind by bad infrastructure and worse leadership.

Basketball tells the same tale. D’Tigers shocked the world by beating the USA. D’Tigress made history by reaching the Olympic quarterfinals. Yet the funding remains inconsistent. The support, conditional. The women, despite four straight AfroBasket titles, still fight to be seen.

And beyond the big sports, quiet triumphs are happening. Mariam Bolaji is taking parabadminton to new heights. Funke Oshonaike has played in five Olympics. Nigerian women are leading in silence. But they are not celebrated nearly enough.

The rankings speak volumes. Super Eagles, 28th. Super Falcons, 32nd. D’Tigress, Africa’s best. Our athletes are doing their part. But they are running against more than competitors. They are running against the system.

Corruption. Poor planning. Inadequate funding. Gender bias. These are not minor obstacles. They are chokeholds. The NFF owes players. The media ignores women. Facilities rot. Politicians show up only for photo ops.

And then there is the silence. The lack of urgency. The normalisation of neglect.

4 percent of media coverage for women. No serious investment in grassroots sports. No clarity in administration. Athletes give everything. The country gives back excuses.

But it does not have to stay this way.

Nigeria must change the game. Invest, not just applaud. Build stadiums that work. Pay athletes on time. Respect women. Develop rural talent. Fix the sports curriculum in schools. Fund local competitions. Promote female leagues. Train coaches. Embrace data. Regulate sports betting. Clean up the federations.

Stop politicising everything. Stop punishing excellence. Start making sports a national priority, not an afterthought.

Because every time Nigeria wins, it is not just a medal. It is a message.

That in the face of dysfunction, the people still shine.

That in a country that forgets its champions, champions still rise.

But how long can that last?

If you keep breaking the spirit behind the talent, the wins will fade. The records will slow. And the youth will stop dreaming.

This is the time to act.

Not just to celebrate the athletes, but to fight for them.

Not just to clap at their victories, but to build the system that sustains them.

Nigeria has always had the talent.

Now it must earn the right to keep it.

I'm Richmond Amadi making a common sense

28/07/2025

When Living and Dying Feel the Same

When someone says they have nothing to die for and nothing to live for, they are not being dramatic. They are standing in the middle of a quiet collapse.

It is a place beyond motivation, beyond sadness, beyond even hope. It is not just a feeling. It is a question that swallows every answer.

Some call it emptiness. Some call it meaninglessness. Others just say they are tired.

But what happens when nothing pulls you forward and nothing holds you back?

Some say the answer is to create meaning. Others say it is to abandon the idea altogether. The truth, maybe, sits somewhere in the uncomfortable space between the two.

There are those who believe that meaning is not something you find. It is something you build. Brick by small brick. Moment by quiet moment. A conversation. A book. A hand held. A morning walk. Viktor Frankl once wrote that even suffering can carry meaning, if you face it with courage and responsibility. You do not need a grand purpose. You only need a reason. And some days that reason can be as simple as feeding the dog. Calling your sister. Watching the rain fall without feeling like the sky is mocking you.

Others take a different path. They say life has no meaning. That this is not a curse but a gift. Albert Camus called it the absurd. The space between our need for answers and the silence of the universe. He said we should stop searching for meaning that was never there and start living on our own terms. Laugh. Paint. Smoke. Swim. Walk into the chaos with your eyes open. You do not owe anyone a purpose. Not even yourself.

There is power in both paths. The one that builds meaning. And the one that walks away from it.

But the pressure to be purposeful can be a trap. It can turn healing into homework. Some days you are not ready to create. Some days you just want to exist. To feel something without trying to explain it. To sit in the dark without being told to light a candle. And that is fine. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is nothing at all.

Still, the danger of staying in that nothingness too long is real. It can pull you deeper. Make you forget you were ever anything else. That is why some choose to act even when it feels empty. Not because they believe in the act. But because they believe in the chance that belief might come later. Wash the dishes. Write a line. Show up. One small thing at a time.

Maybe we do not need to choose between meaning and meaninglessness. Maybe we just need to choose movement. Choose breath. Choose presence. Not because it will fix everything. But because it keeps us from disappearing.

So what do you do when you feel like you have nothing to live for and nothing to die for?

You start there.

You name it.

You sit with it.

You accept that it is real.

And then, gently, without forcing, you ask yourself—

What is the next honest thing I can do?

Not the most productive. Not the most inspiring. Just the most honest.

Because sometimes surviving the void is not about filling it.

Sometimes it is about learning how to live beside it.

And sometimes that is enough.

I'm Richmond Amadi making a common sense

28/07/2025

Between May 2023 and July 2025, the Tinubu administration secured and proposed external loans amounting to more than 30 billion dollars, with an additional 24.5 billion dollars still awaiting approval.

Internally, it has borrowed trillions in naira through bonds and promissory notes.

The administration now faces over 10 trillion naira in debt servicing in 2024 alone - more than the combined budgets of health, education, and infrastructure.

From the 800 million dollar World Bank palliative loan to the 2.2 billion dollar budget support facility, down to the 21 billion dollar mega loan approved by the National Assembly in July 2025, the government continues to borrow without pause.

The official story is simple. The loans are needed to fund reforms. To build infrastructure. To support agriculture. To empower women. To revive industries. To make Nigeria work.

But this is what the people see.

Roads are worse than before. The Lagos Calabar highway project alone, which displaced communities and triggered protests, has already seen 47 million dollars added to its budget in less than six months. Electricity is still unstable. Fuel prices have tripled. Transport costs have made food unaffordable. A bag of rice is now over 85,000 naira in some areas. Tomatoes go for 2,000 naira a basket. And minimum wage remains 30,000 naira - an amount that cannot sustain transport alone.

Hospitals are underfunded. Doctors are leaving. Teachers are striking. Students are protesting. Unemployment is rising. Inflation is near 34 percent. And the naira has crashed below 1,600 to the dollar.

So if the loans were meant to help, where did the money go?

What we are witnessing is not reform. It is recycling. The government borrows to cover deficits. Then borrows again to service interest. It floats bonds, collects in naira, repays in dollars. It signs agreements with international lenders, while the citizens get nothing but slogans and ceremonies.

They promised transparency. But the public has not seen a single detailed breakdown of how the 800 million dollar palliative loan was spent. They said the money reached 12 million households. But the question is simple - who are these households? Where do they live? What proof exists that the funds were received?

They claimed the July 2025 loan will change the country’s future. Over 21 billion dollars for housing, education, water, food security, and innovation. But Nigerians have heard it all before. Buhari said the same. Jonathan said the same. Obasanjo said the same.

The real beneficiaries of these loans are not farmers. Not students. Not market women. Not struggling small businesses. The real beneficiaries are the contractors. The consultants. The advisers. The political allies. The appointees. The elite.

And the people are left with the debt.

Every newborn child in Nigeria is now born with a debt burden of over 800 dollars on their head. And that number is growing. Every time the government signs another loan, it signs away the future of those who had no say in the deal.

This government did not invent borrowing. But it perfected it into a weapon. A tool to create the illusion of progress. A way to appear busy while avoiding structural change. And the consequences will last far longer than this administration.

You cannot build a nation on credit. You cannot inspire hope when your policies breed hunger. You cannot claim to protect the people while making them poorer every month.

There is no recovery plan. Only borrowing plans. There is no national savings strategy. Only debt rollovers. There is no investment in productivity. Only investment in politics.

What makes this even worse is the silence of the National Assembly. The institution that should have checked this madness has become a stamp pad. They approve every loan. No hearings. No debates. No accountability. And now the country is sinking under paperwork and promises.

The Nigerian people are not blind. They know the difference between a plan and a lie. Between sacrifice and theft. Between reform and punishment.

A government that borrows twenty one billion dollars but cannot guarantee safety on highways has no credibility. A government that owes workers months in arrears but keeps creating new ministries has no shame. A government that keeps telling citizens to be patient while increasing its own allowances is not leading. It is looting.

The longer this continues, the more damage is done. Not just to the economy. But to the idea of citizenship. To the idea of unity. To the idea of a shared future.

And once that is broken, nothing borrowed can rebuild it.

Nigerians are not asking for miracles. They are asking for basics. Food that is affordable. Power that is stable. Roads that are passable. Schools that function. Hospitals that can treat without demanding bribes. Jobs that pay a living wage. These are not luxuries. They are rights.

If Tinubu’s loans cannot guarantee these things, then they are not investments. They are burdens.

And every burden has a breaking point.

That point is coming.

Not with noise.

But with quiet withdrawal of trust.

And that is the one thing no loan can buy back.

I'm Richmond Amadi making a common sense

27/07/2025

The Lagos street renaming and demolitions are not just acts of policy. They are deliberate strokes of exclusion. Carried out with silence. Justified with arrogance. And defended with lies.

Across Bariga and Ajeromi Ifelodun, names that carried identity were taken down. Names like Imo Eze, Emordi, and Uzor. Stripped off the map like they never mattered. Replaced with Yoruba names, celebrities, and empty neutral titles that carry no weight and no connection to the people who live there.

It was not a mistake. It was not reform. It was a warning.

You are allowed to live here. But you are not allowed to belong here.

Then they brought in the bulldozers. And they did not come with respect. They came with weapons. With thugs. With silence.

In February, they demolished parts of the Igbo dominated section of Ebute Ero Market. Shops with legal papers. Properties approved by the same government that turned around and called them illegal. Traders were not compensated. Families were not relocated. The state just erased them and moved on.

This is what oppression looks like in 2025. Clean suits. Cold press statements. And a bulldozer at dawn.

When Igbos cry foul, they are told to calm down. They are told to stop playing the victim. But how do you stay calm when your street name is changed without notice. Your market is destroyed without warning. And your community is constantly reminded that this place does not belong to you.

ASITU called it calculated expropriation. They were right.

They called it tribal aggression. They were right again.

Nobody is fooled. The people see what is going on. They feel the pressure. They hear the message. This is not your land. You can live here. But you must not grow here. You must not build here. And if you dare succeed here, we will take it away from you.

This is why trust is broken.

You cannot unite a country by terrorizing part of it. You cannot claim nationhood while you target one region for destruction. The truth is bitter. And many are scared to say it. But it must be said.

What Lagos is doing to the Igbo people is a disgrace. What Nigeria is doing by staying silent is even worse.

You remove street names without consulting the residents. You evict traders without compensation. You ignore court orders. You violate property rights. And then you defend it all in the name of progress. That is not progress. That is injustice.

And injustice breeds resentment.

Now people are asking questions they were once scared to ask. They are wondering if Biafra was wrong after all. They are calling their relatives and telling them to bring their investments back home. They are looking at Lagos and seeing not opportunity but hostility.

Yet when they look back at the East, they find no comfort either. No roads. No power. No peace. The same country that is pushing them out has made it impossible for them to return.

This is how you destroy a people. Push them out and shut them in.

The damage is not short term. This is the kind of wound that festers for years. The kind that divides generations. The kind that makes coexistence impossible.

This is bigger than Lagos. This is about the Nigerian soul.

Because what you normalize in Lagos today, you justify in other states tomorrow. What you destroy in Igbo communities today, you silence in other ethnic groups tomorrow.

Today it is Imo Street. Tomorrow it is Sokoto Road. The danger is not just in the action. The danger is in the silence.

And for those still pretending this is about regulation, the facts are clear. Court orders were ignored. Legal traders were punished. Only one group is constantly targeted. And the streets they erased were not just random names. They were stories. Memories. Roots.

If this country still wants to pretend that unity is real, then it must prove it.

Lagos must stop the demolitions. It must stop the renamings. It must return to dialogue. It must compensate those it destroyed. It must acknowledge the harm it has caused.

Nigeria must also wake up. This cannot continue. Every time you destroy trust, you open the door to disintegration.

And if you keep pushing people out, do not act surprised when they stop asking for inclusion.

They will start asking for separation.

I'm Richmond Amadi making a common sense ❤

27/07/2025

Peter Obi’s rise in Nigerian politics has been nothing short of remarkable. In 2023, I watched him ignite a national movement, one powered not by godfathers or oil money, but by the raw energy of young people desperate for something different. He ran on promises of prudence, integrity, and transformation. And for once, those words felt real.

I admire Obi’s discipline. He talks less and does more. His time as Anambra governor proved that. Budget surplus. Investments in education and health. No flamboyance. No long convoys. No godfather nonsense. Nigerians noticed. I noticed. His lifestyle alone separates him from the pack. He doesn’t talk about cutting costs. He lives it.

His message of accountability and performance, laid out in that 7 point agenda, struck a nerve. It’s not often you hear a politician talk about real metrics. Reporting systems. Deliverables. That’s rare here. Too rare.

But what stood out most was his bond with the youth. The Obidient movement is no accident. It’s born out of frustration, neglect, and the trauma we all remember. I saw young Nigerians pour their hope into him. Not because he was perfect. But because he was different. Because he listened. Because he represented a Nigeria that could finally work.

He also did something many thought impossible. He reached out beyond his party. He tried to build bridges. That coalition with Atiku, El-Rufai, and others through the ADC wasn’t a bad move. I saw it as strategic. Together, they claimed over half the votes in 2023. More than Tinubu’s 37 percent. That’s no small feat.

Even more impressive, he never resorted to ethnic or religious dog whistles. He spoke to everyone. Muslims. Christians. Northerners. Southerners. He promised a four year term, not a throne. And he respected zoning. That’s political maturity.

But let me be honest. I believe Obi made some key mistakes. And if he repeats them, 2027 might slip away again.

The Obidient movement, as powerful as it is, is also limited. Most of it lives on Twitter and in urban centers. Lagos. Abuja. Port Harcourt. But real political power in Nigeria is still held in rural areas. In the North. In places where internet isn’t shaping the narrative. In 2023, Obi won hearts online. But he lost polling units offline. That must change.

His outreach to Muslim voters during Ramadan was a good gesture. But a gesture is not a strategy. One visit won’t undo decades of religious mistrust. He needs more than symbolism. He needs consistent presence and policy.

The coalition with ADC sounds nice on paper. But it’s messy. Obi says he’s still with Labour. Yet he aligns with ADC leaders. Voters are confused. Who is he really riding with? And then there’s Atiku. Still dreaming of the presidency. If that coalition doesn’t sort its leadership structure fast, it could collapse. Or worse, betray Obi completely. That warning from Festus Keyamo? I take it seriously.

There’s also the issue of promises. Obi said he could fix Nigeria in two years. That’s not realistic. We’ve been broken for too long. I get the urgency. But Nigerians are tired of sweet words. What we need is honest timelines. Clear steps. Deliverables we can track. Not magic tricks.

He also faces a ruthless political class. They tried to shut him down in 2023. Voter suppression. Rigging allegations. Court battles. If he doesn’t build stronger legal firepower and electoral monitoring systems, they’ll do it again. And this time, he might not recover.

His anti corruption image took a dent with the Pandora Papers. It wasn’t illegal. But optics matter. If he doesn’t own that story, his opponents will rewrite it for him.

Then there’s the North. The presidency is still largely decided there. Obi’s 2023 running mate was Datti Baba Ahmed. A solid pick. But not enough. The North still saw him as an outsider. And his constant appearances at Pentecostal churches, while genuine, made some Muslims uneasy. That perception, fair or not, must be addressed.

Even his biggest strength — the Obidients — can become a problem. They are loyal. Fiercely. But they don’t play well with others. Talk of Obi being Atiku’s running mate? They reject it outright. They call every other politician corrupt. That kind of rigidity could isolate Obi. Coalitions need compromise. And if he can’t control the extremes of his base, he risks becoming a prisoner of their idealism.

So what must Obi do now?

He must go grassroots. Step out of the cities. Into the rural North. Into the villages. Speak their language. Eat their food. Listen. Understand. He needs local influencers. Religious leaders. Farmers. Teachers. Let them carry his message. Not hashtags. Not influencers. Real people.

He also needs to clarify his political base. Is he Labour? Is he ADC? What is his path to the ballot? People need to know. And if he wants to lead the coalition, he must demand transparent primaries. Let Nigerians decide, not backroom deals. Atiku wants relevance. Fine. Give him a role. But Obi must lead.

His promises must be sharper. Realistic. Instead of saying he’ll fix Nigeria in two years, he should focus on key wins. Like reducing insecurity by half. Or doubling school enrollment. Or improving electricity reliability. Those are trackable. Achievable. Believable.

On election security, he must build a legal army now. Not in 2026. Train observers. Use tech to track votes. Partner with civic groups. And stay ahead of the game. Because the old guard will come with tricks.

He must also teach his supporters political patience. Idealism is good. But politics is messy. He should open dialogue with the Obidient leaders. Aisha Yesufu. Rinu. Others. Help them see the bigger picture. Nigeria needs a coalition. And coalitions mean give and take.

To win the North, Obi must speak to their needs. Banditry. Poverty. Desertification. Education. If he offers solid policies there, and chooses a credible Muslim running mate, he could surprise many. Even El Rufai, controversial as he is, has political weight. That kind of alliance could shift the field.

Lastly, he must manage his image. The APC and PDP will come hard. He must stay ahead. Release policy briefs. Speak frequently. Disclose finances. Show receipts. Let the people know he’s not hiding anything. And don’t just appeal to the youth. Win over the elders. The businessmen. The skeptics. Show them he’s not just a protest candidate. He’s ready to govern.

Peter Obi changed Nigerian politics in 2023. He gave people hope. Real hope. But if hope is all he offers again in 2027, it might not be enough. Now is the time to evolve. To sharpen strategy. To build bridges. To lead with heart and with skill.

Because 2027 is not just another election.

It’s a fight for Nigeria’s soul.

And I hope Obi is ready.

I'm Richmond Amadi making a common sense

27/07/2025

President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s administration is now past its midpoint. As of July 2025, I can say it has been a storm — dividing opinion, stirring emotions, shifting Nigeria’s political and economic pulse. Some see progress. Others see decay. I see a mixture of both, but with one truth standing out above the noise — Nigeria is hurting.

Let me start with what worked.

The fuel subsidy removal was bold. Painful, yes. But long overdue. Floating the naira too. These moves were supposed to fix our broken fiscal foundation. The World Bank applauded the rising revenue, our deficit shrank, and the numbers finally started looking less tragic. Inflation showed signs of retreat and Fitch took notice. There was talk again about Nigeria being investable.

I can’t ignore the echoes of Tinubu’s Lagos days. Back then, he tripled the state’s monthly revenue. And I see that same ambition in his drive to boost internally generated funds nationwide.

In foreign policy, I give him credit. As ECOWAS chair, he gave Nigeria a louder voice. He pushed fuel into Niger when they were running dry. Got us a BRICS seat at the table. Our flag flew at G20 meetings. And he even got tagged by the AU for continental health. That kind of visibility matters. We haven’t had it in a long time.

Politically, he’s consolidating power like a master tactician. Governors from opposition parties are switching sides. PDP. Labour. Even Delta and Akwa Ibom made the jump. And with loyalists planted across key offices, Tinubu’s grip on the APC and the entire machinery of government is tight. That’s strength. But it’s also dangerous.

Now let me talk about the part that bites.

The removal of fuel subsidy in 2023 came with no safety net. No timing. No preparation. Prices exploded overnight. Food. Transport. Rent. Everything. Inflation went over 23 percent. People are struggling to breathe. Naira crashed and small businesses began folding. I watched friends shut down shops, lose jobs, go hungry.

And while Nigerians were gasping, government officials were out shopping. New jets. Lavish convoys. No clear record of where all that subsidy money went. The promises of redirecting funds to infrastructure? Still promises.

Our economy shrank. Under 200 billion dollars. Tinubu once dreamt of a trillion dollar future. Now, over 75 percent of rural folks live in poverty. Urban areas are sinking too. The projection says 13 million more people will go poor this year. That’s not a statistic. That’s our neighbors.

And the bloodshed? It’s everywhere. Gunmen have taken over highways. Terrorists still raid villages. Kidnappings in daylight. Since he came in, over ten thousand lives lost to violence. I’ve lost count. We rank sixth globally for terrorism. The so called security reforms? I don’t feel them. Most Nigerians don’t.

I worry about democracy too. The space for dissent is shrinking. People are afraid to speak. The 2023 election was a mess. Low turnout. Allegations of rigging. INEC didn’t inspire trust. Tinubu’s win came through, but not without a long shadow. Even now, challenges from Atiku and Obi linger in the public’s mind.

And then there’s Rivers State. Declaring a state of emergency there? Sidestepping El-Rufai? These are not moves of a confident leader. They feel authoritarian.

Education is another disaster. Kids are out of school. Teachers unpaid. Universities on strike again. Nigeria is now the malnutrition capital of Africa. How did we get here? What happened to taking care of our children?

The new minimum wage is ₦70,000. On paper, that looks good. But when bread costs four figures and electricity bills double overnight, it means nothing. People are still poor. Still broken.

So what do I think should happen between now and 2027?

First, the government must fix the pain it created. Give people a cushion. Direct cash support. Transparent disbursements. Show receipts. Help small businesses get back up with cheap loans and tax reliefs. Cut elite spending. Prioritize roads, schools, and health over vanity.

Next, overhaul security. Not on paper. On the ground. Build community policing structures. Fund intelligence. Equip officers. And for God’s sake, bring peace to the North East and North West. Solve the herder farmer crisis. Dialogue. Real dialogue.

On elections, restore faith. We need a neutral INEC chairman by November. Not a party loyalist. Change the Electoral Act. Fix the process. Make every vote count again. And teach our people — especially the young — that democracy only works when they show up.

Tinubu must speak. Not through aides. Not with silence. But with presence. Hold town halls. Explain reforms. Own the hardship. Make the people feel heard. Not ignored.

Looking beyond 2027, I see the need for real economic diversification. We can’t keep chasing oil. Invest in tech. Invest in agriculture. Build things. Export brains and services. Not just crude. Our youths are hungry to work. Give them jobs they can be proud of.

And yes, fix power. We can’t grow anything if the lights keep going out. Renewable energy is the future. Let’s move.

The federation itself needs reworking. The centre holds too much. Give states more power. Let regions breathe. Especially the South East. Enough with the Biafra silence. Engage them.

We must also fund education like our future depends on it. Because it does. Increase health spending too. Train workers. Tackle malnutrition. Let’s not lose another generation.

Democracy must be protected. Power should rotate fairly. Nigeria is diverse. Let it reflect in leadership. Women must be seen too. Not as ornaments. But as equals. Create space. Set quotas. Show the world we’re serious.

So what am I watching between now and the next election?

I’m watching if the opposition can get its act together. Atiku. Obi. Anyone. Because as it stands, they’re scattered. And Tinubu is gaining ground.

I’m watching inflation. If food remains unaffordable, streets will erupt. Voter anger will grow.

I’m watching INEC. That November appointment will be a signal. Neutral or loyalist? We will know.

I’m watching security. If attacks increase, so will doubt. If Tinubu can’t keep us safe, why should he stay?

I’m watching his health too. Rumors linger. If he falters, the power struggle will be ugly.

I’m watching the youths. The Obidient wave is still out there. Silent for now. But waiting.

And I’m watching the South East. If they continue to feel locked out, this country’s unity will stretch too thin.

At the end of the day, Tinubu has shown guts. But guts alone won’t save Nigeria. What we need now is compassion. Clarity. Competence. If he delivers that, he might rewrite his legacy. If he doesn’t, 2027 will be loud. And it won’t be in his favor.

This moment is still his to lose.

Let’s see what he does with it.

I'm Richmond Amadi making a common sense

Richmond Amadi

29/07/2025

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28/07/2025

28/07/2025

27/07/2025

27/07/2025

27/07/2025

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