As Nigeria mourns a former leader, it must also mourn its own errors and vow to be wiser.

by Collins Nweke

Nigeria commits Muhammadu Buhari to Mother Earth today. As it does, we must confront the failures of one man. We also need to tackle the failures of our collective judgment. Legacy is not just what leaders leave behind. Legacy is also the wisdom or folly of the people who chose the leaders.

I turned 60 on 14 July 2025, a milestone for reflection. Yet as I marked my sixth decade, news broke from London of the death of Muhammadu Buhari. Nigeria’s former president, he died at the age of 82. It was a moment layered with irony and symbolism. Legacy, both personal and national, stood at the center of my thoughts. Femi Awoyemi wrote or spoke about my legacy. Emeka Anazia and John George also contributed. Others like Lola Visser-Mabogunje, Alistair Soyode, and Lili Chong added their thoughts. Uzonna Ononye, Femi Olaleye, and Kayode Elusoji shared their perspectives as well. There are many others too many to mention here. I was processing everything people had to say or write about me and my legacy. In that moment, Buhari intruded my thoughts! Buhari’s life and death compel Nigerians to look in the mirror, not merely to condemn but to learn.

Yet, even as we say Nigerians chose Buhari, there is an inner voice that refuses to be silenced. Did we truly choose him? Was Buhari brought to us by a clique of cabals? Did political elites whose wheeling and dealing override the people’s will play a role? The integrity of Nigeria’s elections remains a question mark, one that haunts every democratic transition. For many, Buhari’s rise was less about the ballot. It was more about the machinations of power brokers. These power brokers decide outcomes long before votes are cast.

Key takeaway? “When elections are captured, the people’s mandate becomes the cabal’s mandate. And the injury is collective.”

We must, therefore, confront this uncomfortable reality. The tragedy of Buhari’s presidency is not just about one man’s failure. It is about a system rigged by vested interests. This system mocks democracy while pretending to uphold it.

The political elites who bargain away the nation’s future in smoke-filled rooms must be aware. Their deals cause real pain to millions. Their manipulation breeds poverty, division, and despair. And history will one day call their names.

This is the moment for Nigerians to awaken to the truth. Silence in the face of electoral injustice is complicity. That democracy without integrity is merely tyranny in slow motion. That a captured election is not just an attack on the present. It is a theft from the future.

A Legacy Written in Bitterness and Hard Lessons

Buhari’s story is well-known. As a military ruler in the 1980s, he was a hardliner. He detained journalists. He trampled freedoms. He also enforced draconian decrees. Decades later, he rebranded himself as a “converted democrat,”. He resurfaced with a promise of anti-corruption reforms. Nigerians, weary of insecurity and economic stagnation, handed him power. Twice! Yet his eight-year civilian presidency (2015–2023) left the country more divided, poorer, and less secure. The #EndSARS protests ended in bloodshed. The economy slid deeper into recession. Corruption battles were selective. Terror and banditry raged unchecked.

Key takeaway? “One man can destroy more in eight years than a generation can rebuild.” The bitterness Nigerians feel today is absolutely justified. But it must not imprison us. Instead, it should fuel a national resolve to say: never again!

Here is the irony we can’t ignore! It is one of Nigeria’s greatest historical ironies. Buhari, whose authoritarian record was never hidden, was elected as a civilian president. We romanticized the past out of frustration with the present. We mistook fear for discipline. We believed the same iron fist that once dismantled freedoms could somehow fix democracy. In that moment, we chose nostalgia over reason, and it cost us dearly.

Key takeaway? “Not every change is progress. Sometimes, the devil you know is better than the one you invite in haste.”

From Bad to Worse: A Cautionary Tale

Buhari’s rise was also a backlash. Goodluck Jonathan was seen as weak, indecisive, too soft. In our rush to escape what we deemed “bad,” we embraced something worse. This is a lesson in political impatience. A democracy that jumps from flawed mildness to outright repression does not progress; it regresses. The Buhari years proved that not every strongman brings strength. Sometimes they bring stress and ruin.

As a people, we must begin to see our complicity as our responsibility. It is easy to heap all blame on Buhari. But democracy is collective. Nigerians chose him. Not once, but twice! We allowed propaganda, tribal loyalty, and frustration to cloud judgment. We ignored history. We prioritized sentiment over substance.

Key takeaway? “Legacy is not only about leaders. It is also about the wisdom, or folly, of the people who choose them.” Until Nigerians learn to interrogate history before endorsing the future, we will keep recycling the same failures.

Bitterness Must Birth Humility in Leaders

Legacy is a mirror. Today’s leaders must look into Buhari’s story and see themselves. Power is fleeting. Popularity is deceptive. History is unforgiving. If Buhari. once hailed as Nigeria’s “last hope” could leave behind a conflicted legacy, then no leader is immune. The Buhari era should humble all who hold office today. They must serve selflessly, govern justly, and remember that respect is earned, not inherited. Can Nigeria rise above bitterness? Can it embrace reconciliation for a better nation?

Mourning Buhari must not trap us in endless recriminations. Nigeria must reconcile. It must do so not to erase the pain, but to heal and rebuild. This is the time to bridge divides: North and South, Christian and Muslim, elite and masses. To forge a Nigeria where institutions, not personalities, hold the torch of progress.

Key takeaway?: “Buhari’s death is not just an end; it is an inflection point. Nigeria’s story is still being written.”

The Buhari debacle can be a golden chance for redemption. For public figures: politicians, business leaders, traditional authorities, Buhari is a wake-up call. If you have misused power, redeem it. If you have been complicit in corruption, renounce it. Legacy is not about perfection; it is about course correction while there is still time.

In the end, it is about legacy. Buhari’s life is over, but Nigeria’s future is still in our hands. Legacy waits for no one, but it will honor those who choose service over self. As I entered my sixth decade, I asked myself the haunting question: How will I be remembered? Buhari’s death is a sobering reminder that history remembers everything. The deeds we did, the choices we made, the opportunities we wasted. For Nigeria, this is a chance to heal, to learn, and to co-create the nation we want. The pen is in our hands.

Nigerians woke up this morning and were greeted with news of further developments in the audacious push by Professor Pat Utomi for a Big Tent Shadow Government. This situation follows moves by President Bola Tinubu. He aims to stop him by legal means and any other ways deemed necessary. Utomi addressed the media after a two-day retreat of the shadow government in Abuja. He listed the members of his shadow government. The members include Nana Kazaure who is responsible for Information. Riwang Pam is in charge of Security. Nike Omola oversees Women and Gender Development. Peter Agada handles Infrastructure, Urban Development, and Housing.  

Those of us that only paid marginal attention to the news have been provided a reason to interrogate it further. In mature democracies, criticism is not sedition. Neither is accountability a rebellion. The controversy surrounding Professor Pat Utomi’s proposed “shadow cabinet” has triggered alarmist reactions from some quarters of government. But such panic is misplaced, unhelpful, and undemocratic. A shadow, after all, is not a threat. It is merely a reflection. And if governance is as solid as its leaders claim, then it should have no fear of reflection.

Professor Utomi’s initiative is, by all reasonable accounts, a commendable effort to fill Nigeria’s enduring accountability gap. His Shadow Government, when fully constituted is envisaged to include experts, opposition figures, and civic leaders. It seeks to watch, scrutinize, and offer policy alternatives to President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s administration. It is not a parallel government. It does not wield state power. It is a civic, intellectual, and democratic instrument, akin to a watchdog NGO. You may even call it  an academic think tank with sharper teeth.

The concept of a shadow cabinet has deep historical roots in the Westminster parliamentary tradition. There, it emerged as a structured way for opposition parties to offer checks and balances to the ruling government. In the United Kingdom, as far back as the 19th century, opposition leaders began assigning specific roles. These roles mirrored those of government ministers. This practice allowed them to scrutinize policies, propose alternatives, and show readiness to govern. Over time, this evolved into a formal institution, adopted by many democracies around the world, parliamentary or presidential in nature. It is deployed as a tool to deepen democratic practice. Today, shadow cabinets are not confined to opposition parties within legislatures. They also find expression in civil society, academia, and professional circles. They serve as platforms for grooming substitute leadership, generating innovative ideas, and ensuring governments stay accountable between election cycles. As such, they are essential to building an enduring and resilient democracy.

The government’s response, yet, has been disappointingly heavy-handed. Security agencies have accused Utomi of attempting to usurp constitutional authority. They warn of chaos, instability, and hidden agendas. Yet, at no point has this initiative suggested an unconstitutional seizure of power. It simply seeks to play a role that institutions like the National Assembly often fail to do: rigorous policy scrutiny.

The question before us is this: Should a government elected with the mandate of the people fear accountability? Should it fear being held to account by the people?

The answer is a resounding no.

In fact, a healthy democracy thrives on plural voices. Shadow cabinets are commonplace in parliamentary democracies. This is the case in the UK, Canada, Australia. Even in emerging democracies like Ghana and Kenya, shadow ministers have clear roles. They track their official counterparts. They challenge policies. They present alternatives. Though Nigeria operates a presidential system, the core function of a shadow cabinet,  accountability and alternative thinking, remains profoundly relevant.

The objection that Nigeria’s constitution does not explicitly recognize a shadow cabinet misses the point entirely. The Nigerian Constitution provides important rights. Sections 39, 40, and 22 guarantee citizens the right to freedom of expression and association. They also ensure the right to hold the government accountable. Utomi’s shadow initiative falls squarely within these constitutional bounds. Attempting to shut it down through legal or security mechanisms would be not only undemocratic but also unlawful.

So, why the panic?

The real threat is not the shadow cabinet. The real threat is a culture of intolerance towards dissent. The real danger lies in equating critical civic engagement with political subversion. If a government fears scrutiny, then it must ask itself: What is it hiding?

On the contrary, President Tinubu has every reason to welcome the initiative. Here’s why:

• It offers credible feedback. Governments can sometimes lose touch with realities on the ground. A competent shadow cabinet provides informed, constructive criticism, free of sycophancy.
• It raises the quality of public discourse. We get policy alternatives. We also hear expert perspectives and engage in open debate instead of sterile partisan bickering.
• It strengthens institutions. The shadow cabinet models transparency and accountability. This can help pressure under-performing public institutions to rise to their mandates.
• It prepares future leaders. Shadow ministers can become tomorrow’s effective public servants, well-trained, policy-savvy, and ethically grounded.

Most importantly, embracing such initiatives would show that President Tinubu is confident in his leadership. After all, great leaders don’t fear opposition; they engage it. They understand that dissent is not disloyalty. They recognize that accountability is not antagonism.

What Nigeria needs now, more than ever, is a culture of constructive governance. This is an ecosystem where policies are debated, decisions are questioned, and leaders are held accountable without fear of reprisal. The political elite must stop viewing every critical voice as an enemy of the state. Democracy is not a monologue. It is a conversation. And conversations require other voices. Professor Utomi’s shadow cabinet is a bold, necessary voice in that conversation. Rather than seek to silence it, the government should lean in, listen, and even engage. Doing so would not only demonstrate maturity but would deepen the democratic fabric of Nigeria.

In the end, a government secure in its legitimacy and performance has no reason to be afraid of its shadow.

The author, Collins Nweke is a Nigerian-Belgian policy strategist. He is also a former municipal legislator in Belgium. Additionally, he advocates for economic diplomacy and diaspora engagement. He writes from Brussels.

What is the genuine cost of propaganda in public governance? At what point does message management become manipulation? And who truly benefits when policy guidance is filtered through a partisan lens, rather than a national one?

These are uncomfortable questions. Yet they are urgent and necessary for those who advise political office holders. This is so around the world. But it is particularly so across the African continent. The stakes there are often existential. Also, the margins for policy error in Africa is dangerously narrow.

A Brief History of Spin: From Subtle Persuasion to Statecraft Strategy

Propaganda is not new. Its origins stretch back centuries. From war-time morale boosting and religious evangelism, to colonial indoctrination. But in the 20th century, spin-doctoring matured into a refined political tool. Joseph Goebbels in Nazi Germany used it as a tool of power. Edward Bernays, known as the “father of public relations” in America, further institutionalized it for influence.

In post-colonial Africa, this playbook was adopted, adapted, and often abused. Governments, whether elected or not, crafted narratives. They did so to preserve legitimacy, silence dissent, and pacify the citizenry. This was often at the expense of truth and transparency.

One of the most emblematic figures in modern political spin-doctoring is Alistair Campbell. He was the formidable media strategist behind former UK Prime Minister Tony Blair. Campbell’s influence on communications strategy was as undeniable as it was controversial. He understood the power of narrative and the tempo of media cycles. Under his stewardship, the Blair government mastered ‘message discipline’ and often stayed ahead of the news agenda. This brought clarity and cohesion to government messaging, an undeniable blessing in a noisy political environment. But it also carried burdens. The machinery that made Blair’s team media-savvy brought accusations of excessive control. It also led to claims of suppression of dissent and media manipulation. This was particularly so in the lead-up to the Iraq War.

Campbell’s legacy forces today’s advisers to think: is the purpose of communication to inform or to influence at all costs? His career serves as a caution. Even the most sophisticated media strategies can erode trust if they are not grounded in truth. Advisers must learn from his brilliance without repeating the missteps of overreach and opacity.

But today’s reality demands more than clever slogans and orchestrated praise-singing. It demands results. It demands integrity.

When Propaganda Overshadows Policy

The role of a policy adviser is, or should be, sacred. Yet many advisers have gradually morphed into apologists. They act more like public relations agents, or worse. They sometimes even act like court jesters in corridors of power. The cost is visible. We see poor decisions masked as visionary. Crises are blamed on imaginary saboteurs. The public needs no policies spun as successes long before they touch the lives they claim to serve.

If the economy is good, citizens will feel it. You will not need to say it on radio or pay influencers to trend it. If inflation is down, the people will tell your story for you. If small businesses are growing, citizens will notice. If youth are employed, the populace will share the news. Public commentaries must cite real examples of accomplishments, not projections, not theories, but actual lives improved.

If the judiciary is incorruptible and non-partisan, it will be visible in their rulings. Citizens will not need to read communiqués to perceive justice. Landmark rulings will speak louder than press statements. Show incorruptibility through the accomplishments of the courts, not through empty speeches at legal conferences.

If political leadership is good and purposeful, the citizens will be affected by their actions. Not next year. Not after the next cycle. But now. Good leadership shows in accessible healthcare, quality education, roads that last, and electricity that stays on. It is not about projections, but real-time visible results.

So why, then, do many policy advisers resort to spin? Why the preference for optics over outcomes? Why is sycophancy mistaken for patriotism?

Allegiance Must Shift from Politicians to the People

Too many advisers align their loyalty to individual politicians, not to national good. The result is self-serving governance. Praising a failing administration only prolongs its failure. Masking incompetence only deepens the damage. Sycophancy is not patriotism. Allegiance should be to the national good. Not to individual politicians.

And when integrity is absent in advisory roles, policymaking becomes detached from reality. Advisers stop reading data and start reading the mood of their bosses. The goal becomes staying relevant, not telling the truth.

Reclaiming the Role: Where Do We Go from Here?

The world is watching Africa. The continent’s population is projected to double by 2050. The pressure to deliver smart, sustainable, and citizen-focused policies has never been higher. And that work begins, not with spin, but with truth.

Let us reintroduce integrity into policy advisory and public affairs analysis roles. Let us make room again for honesty, for the courage to say “No” when power demands applause. Let us counsel our leaders and run policy commentaries with data, not drama. Let public analysts be critics when needed, and champions when deserved. But never cheerleaders by default. Because in the end, propaganda may win the morning, but it is integrity that wins the future.

The Author Collins Nweke is a Senior Consultant on International Trade and Economic Diplomacy. He served until December 2024 as Green Party Councillor at Ostend City Council Belgium. He has done extensive work across Africa and Europe. His focus includes matters of governance, diaspora, fair trade, and financial inclusion. Collins writes from Brussels, Belgium.

With a fanfare my Belgian bank has been announcing for a while a new enhancement. Starting 1 July 2025, the bank will automatically check that the name of the beneficiary matches the account number. This check will occur before processing online transfers via its Banking App. This marks a significant step in strengthening financial integrity and fraud prevention in Belgium’s digital banking ecosystem.

For those of us with a dual lens on global finance, this development is not new. We straddle both Europe and Africa. In fact, Nigeria, often underestimated in global innovation rankings, has long operated with such safeguards. In 2014, the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) launched the Bank Verification Number (BVN) system. This framework introduced biometric identity for every bank account holder. By 2018, Nigerian banks were mandated to match the account name to the account number before finalising any deal. The framework was simple in logic. It is also revolutionary in outcome. And that outcome is to reduce fraud. To strengthen digital trust. The bottom line? Safeguard customer funds.

Belgium is a high-income, digitally mature economy. It is well-versed in research and development. Surprisingly, Belgium is only now introducing a measure Nigeria embedded in its banking DNA almost a decade ago. This is both revealing and instructive.

It speaks, primarily, to the myth of innovation exclusivity. The assumption that financial or technological innovation flows only from North to South is increasingly inaccurate. In many cases, the reverse is true. Nigeria and several other African countries have not merely adopted Western models; they have leapfrogged them.

Europe struggled with the inertia of legacy systems. Meanwhile, Nigeria seized the opportunity to build a more agile, digital-first financial ecosystem. It did so out of necessity. Yes, I know. But it was also out of vision. The introduction of BVN and real-time payment systems like NIP (NIBSS Instant Payment) changed how money moved. Transactions became secure, instant, and transparent. Even the rural areas with little banking infrastructure were not left out.

Belgium’s move now stands for more than a technical update. It is a quiet recognition that smart policy and bold digital transformation are not exclusive to so-called “developed” countries. It underscores the fact that standards of excellence in financial services can, and do, emerge from the Global South.

There is a broader lesson here for the future of digital finance: development is no longer linear. Innovation is no longer a function of GDP. It is increasingly shaped by urgency, adaptability, and the courage to try what others consider improbable.

And yet, here lies the irony. In a country with advanced digital banking innovations, name-matching and biometric IDs are routine. Real-time transfers have become standard too. Yet, Nigeria continues to struggle with the idea of electronic transmission of election results. Voters move billions of Naira across banks in seconds. Still, we are told that transmitting electoral outcomes in real time has technical glitches. We hear it has technical challenges and all of that!

It becomes even more farcical when applied to the question of Diaspora Voting. Nigerians abroad can instantly and securely send money back home. Yet, accommodating them in the electoral process is somehow too logistically challenging? With the success of Nigeria’s digital banking transformation, it is becoming increasingly difficult for the naysayers of genuine electoral reforms. They struggle to make a convincing case. It is embarrassingly so. If they are truly confused about how to make it work, then a working visit to Belgium might help. This visit is long overdue.

As a Nigerian Belgian, I take pride in this convergence. This is not as a critique of Belgium’s cautious pace. It is a celebration of Nigeria’s pioneering spirit. It is a reminder that Africa, when given the room to lead, can set global standards in unexpected fields. It is a call to action for financial institutions in Europe and Africa alike. Political institutions should also look beyond borders for best practices. Sometimes the future is not found in Silicon Valley or Brussels. It is already at work in Lagos.

The Author Collins Nweke is a Senior Consultant on International Trade and Economic Diplomacy. He is based in Belgium. He has done extensive work across Africa and Europe. His focus includes matters of governance, diaspora, and financial innovation.

In July 2023, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu of Nigeria assumed leadership of the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS). At that time, the regional bloc was already in turmoil. A surge in military coups, widening democratic backsliding, and economic vulnerabilities had placed ECOWAS on the precipice of irrelevance. His tenure, now concluded, deserves both commendation and critique. As Sierra Leone’s President Julius Maada Bio steps into the leadership, the stakes have never been higher.

President Tinubu brought energy and bold rhetoric to the ECOWAS stage. He looked to reassert the bloc’s authority, declaring that “we will not allow coup plotters to destabilize our region.” His approach to the crisis in Niger after the July 2023 coup was immediate and decisive. ECOWAS threatened military intervention. They imposed sanctions and suspended Niamey’s membership. Tinubu aimed to reaffirm ECOWAS’s commitment to democratic governance.

But the Niger standoff revealed more than Tinubu’s resolve. It exposed the limits of ECOWAS’s muscle. The military junta stood its ground. Support from key member states like Mali and Burkina Faso evaporated. The proposed military intervention lost legitimacy. What was meant to be a democratic rebuke evolved into a regional fracture. Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger announced their withdrawal from ECOWAS, creating the Alliance of Sahel States. This came as a sub-regional counterweight.

While Tinubu’s posture sought to preserve ECOWAS’s founding ideals, his administration’s lack of nuanced diplomacy may have hardened divisions. The over-reliance on sanctions and saber-rattling, without parallel backchannel negotiations, undermined the ECOWAS ethos of solidarity.

Yet, Tinubu’s leadership was not without merit. He placed ECOWAS’s challenges at the heart of international attention and revitalized conversations on institutional reform. Under his chairmanship, conversations around economic integration, regional infrastructure, and counterterrorism gained renewed traction, even if not fully realized.

Sierra Leone’s President Julius Maada Bio takes the reins at a delicate moment. A former military officer turned democratically elected leader, Bio embodies the transformation ECOWAS looks to champion. His relatively stable governance and post-civil war peace-building credentials offer him the moral authority to broker dialogue across hardened lines.

But Bio inherits four enormous challenges:

Mending the Fractured Bloc: With three core Sahel countries out, Bio must find a path back to inclusivity. Will he engage them diplomatically? Can he reconcile ECOWAS’s democracy-first stance with the practical need for regional unity?

Security in the Sahel: Terrorist groups exploit the governance vacuum in the region. Without coordination between ECOWAS and the Sahel states, trans-border threats will escalate.

Restoring Credibility: ECOWAS is seen by some as an elite club protecting incumbents. Bio must rebuild trust among citizens by ensuring ECOWAS is not just about leaders, but about the led, the people.

Economic Integration and Youth Empowerment: The AfCFTA opens possibilities for intra-African trade, but regional economic corridors are still weak. Bio’s leadership must focus on infrastructure, digital connectivity, and youth employment, especially given ECOWAS’s youthful population.

Bio is expected to lead with more consultation and less coercion. His diplomatic style, less confrontational than Tinubu’s, may allow for quiet gains. His presidency in Sierra Leone, while not free of controversy, has seen electoral reforms. It has also included education investments and some civil-military balance. These experiences position him to appreciate the complexity of transitional governance in fragile states.

President Tinubu leaves behind a legacy of urgency and assertion. These traits are not misplaced in turbulent times. He was determined to assert ECOWAS as a bloc intolerant of unconstitutional changes of government. He was also willing to protect its democratic space at all costs. Nonetheless, this bold stance yielded mixed results and left several critical initiatives unfinished. These unresolved tasks now become the burden, but also opportunity of President Bio’s tenure.

Chief among Tinubu’s unfinished business is the reintegration of the breakaway Sahel trio: Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger. While Tinubu drew a red line at military takeovers, the absence of a parallel reconciliation framework widened the rift. ECOWAS can’t afford a permanently fractured bloc. Tinubu aimed to protect the principle of democratic governance. The Bio doctrine must repair the broken regional fabric. He must bring all stakeholders back to the table. This does not presuppose endorsing coups. It requires charting a path to civilian transitions, even if phased and negotiated.

Another critical initiative that remained incomplete under Tinubu was the enhancement of ECOWAS’s conflict prevention and early warning mechanisms. Tinubu recognized the security threats metastasizing across West Africa. This is clear in the extremist violence in the Sahel and political instability in coastal states. Yet, his tenure focused more on political posturing than operationalising preventive diplomacy. President Bio must now institutionalize these reforms. First, empower the ECOWAS standby force. Second, strengthen regional intelligence-sharing. Third, build the civilian-military cooperation necessary to stabilize the region. Security, after all, is not achieved through threats but through trust, collaboration, and foresight.

Tinubu also started dialogues around regional economic integration and youth employment. It sadly gained little traction beyond conferences and communiqués. The ECOWAS Vision 2050 agenda remains largely aspirational. It is focused on shared prosperity. The agenda emphasizes free movement of people and goods and regional infrastructure. Bio needs no extra rhetoric. Instead, he must convert the rhetoric into reality by fast-tracking the ECOWAS Single Currency roadmap. He must work on ending cross-border trade barriers. This is without prejudice to leveraging digital economies to empower West Africa’s burgeoning youth population.

In short, ECOWAS now requires healing, humility, and innovation. The healing must be political: mending relationships and reimagining unity. The humility must be institutional: listening to civil society and grassroots voices long excluded from the ECOWAS conversation. And the innovation must be economic: shifting from reactive interventions to proactive, people-centered development strategies.

President Bio must embrace this moment with the patience of a mediator and the vision of a reformer. He should understand that he inherits not just a chair, but a regional soul in crisis. Continuity demands that the work begun by his predecessor not be abandoned but evolved. He should deploy fresh strategies, inclusive dialogue, and courageous compromise. Indeed, as the old adage goes, government is a continuum. The strength of ECOWAS is rooted in the shared commitment of each leader. Success requires finishing what the last began rather than the brilliance of any one leader. This does not prevent beginning anew where necessary, but always in service of the West African people.

by Collins Nweke

At first glance, it may seem like another anti-Western move. The recent nationalisation of the Somair uranium mine by Niger’s military-led government is causing concern. It occurs in a turbulent post-coup environment. But viewed more deeply, it is emblematic of a long-overdue structural realignment. In many ways, it is a clarion call for a recalibration of business relations between Western economies and African states. This is not a zero-sum game. Rather, it is an opportunity for win-win partnerships. A partnership that embraces fairness, transparency, and shared prosperity is an imperative of our time in history.

For over five decades, France’s state-linked nuclear giant, Orano, operated uranium mines in Niger. They did so under agreements that many locals and independent observers considered unequal. Niger supplies about 4% of the world’s uranium and has been a key supplier to France’s nuclear energy infrastructure. Yet paradoxically, Niger ranks among the world’s poorest countries, with its citizens seeing little tangible benefit from this strategic resource.

What Niger’s leaders are doing, albeit through controversial political means, is asserting economic sovereignty. They are also rejecting post-colonial asymmetries that continue to define much of Africa’s engagement with the West. They are not alone. From Mali to Burkina Faso and beyond, a pattern is emerging across Francophone and Anglophone Africa alike. There is a demand to reconfigure not just who profits from African wealth. It also addresses how those profits are structured and reinvested.

Why Recalibration Benefits both sides

Fairer partnerships unlock deeper trust, longer-term investments, and more sustainable outcomes. This culminates in economic stability and mutual growth. Africa offers vast growth potential in not just in resources, but in human capital, green energy, and innovation. Western firms gain access to emerging markets; African economies gain jobs, technology transfer, and infrastructure.

Amid rising competition from China, Russia, and Gulf states, the West must aim for geo-economic balance. It must rethink its traditional approach. Clinging to outdated patron-client frameworks only fuels resentment and opens the door for geopolitical rivals. Embracing equity enhances the West’s soft power and safeguards its strategic interests.

Inequitable contracts breed local grievances, undermine governance, and destabilize societies. Recent history is replete with instability occasioned by resentment of the West’s paternalistic strategies, albeit disguised. Win-win economic models mitigate conflict risks and support regional peace and prosperity.

A Pathway to Fairer, Recalibrated Relations

Having lived and worked in both Africa and the West over the past four decades, there are five actionable steps I believe could guide a recalibrated partnership:

Renegotiate legacy contracts transparently
Many current contracts stem from colonial or post-independence periods when negotiating leverage was skewed. Western companies must engage in good faith renegotiations that respect host country interests, with public disclosure and community consultation.

Embed value addition locally
Africa must no longer export raw resources while importing finished products at exorbitant cost. Western businesses should support local refining, processing, and industrialization. Investments must now shift from extraction to the entire value chains.

Prioritize skills transfer and local content
Joint ventures must mandate the training of local professionals. They should integrate SMEs. There should be upward mobility for national staff. This prevents brain drain and builds self-reliant economies.

Support African-led development frameworks
Partnerships should align with continental visions like the African Union’s Agenda 2063 and national development strategies. That means investing where Africa wants to go, not where external actors wish it to remain.

Institutionalize economic diplomacy and corporate accountability
African governments should set up sovereign negotiating bodies with legal and economic expertise. Western governments, in turn, must hold their corporations accountable for unethical practices abroad.

Toward a New Social Contract

At the heart of this conversation is a need for a new moral and economic contract. We need a deal that does not frame Africa as a beneficiary of Western benevolence. It should present Africa as an equal co-architect of global prosperity.

If the West does not adapt, others, less scrupulous, will fill the vacuum. They are more attuned to the language of respect and reciprocity. If it listens to Africa, it can become a valuable partner. By collaborating on Africa’s terms, it can help unlock one of the great engines of 21st-century development. The time of resource extraction without reinvestment is over. In its place must rise a new model: equitable, ethical, and enduring. It is not too late to move from the ruins of resentment to the building blocks of renewal. The Somair mine saga is not the end of a relationship. It can be a chance to rewrite the terms of engagement.

Rumours, if credible, can be as disruptive as confirmed facts. The reported leaked memo from the office of the United States Secretary of State lists Nigeria among 36 countries. These countries are facing potential visa bans. This situation is more than just a footnote in foreign policy gossip. Nigeria is Africa’s most populous nation and a long-standing regional partner of the United States. The implications of such a policy shift for Nigeria demand urgent reflection. It requires thoughtful consideration, not emotional retaliation.

Visa bans are often dressed in national security or immigration control rhetoric. They are rarely about the individuals they directly affect. They send broader geopolitical signals. They declare who is in favour, who is out of step, and who must fall in line. If Nigeria is indeed being placed on the punitive side of US immigration policy once again, Nigeria should consider retaliation. Retaliation is understandable. The temptation to act swiftly and visibly can be strong. At least a prominent former Senator of Nigeria has spoken out in favour of a reciprocal action. But as any seasoned strategist will suggest, in global affairs, the wiser path is often the one less shouted about.

Sovereignty Yes, But Not Symbolism
Reciprocity in diplomacy is a legitimate tool. It affirms sovereignty. It insists on dignity. It sends a message across that not even the most powerful political figure on earth can bully Nigeria. It may also satisfy public sentiment demanding strong national posture. We get all of that. But when the scales of influence and dependence are unbalanced, they do not favor Nigeria. The relationship is unequal between Nigeria and the United States. A tit-for-tat visa ban on American citizens is unlikely to sting Washington. It is more likely to hurt Abuja. Few US citizens seek Nigerian visas. In contrast, countless Nigerians have lives, careers, and dreams intertwined with the United States. Moreover, let us candidly face the factual reality here. Nigeria’s ability for effective enforcement of such a retaliatory visa ban is questionable. The gesture would be symbolic at best. Yet, symbolism without strategic depth is mere posturing.

The Case for Strategic Recalibration
Nigeria’s smarter play lies in recalibrating, not retaliating. That begins with a high-level diplomatic engagement. The Nigerian government must seek immediate clarification from its American counterpart. Not through megaphones, but through mature, backchannel diplomacy. If Nigeria’s inclusion stems from concerns over security or documentation issues, those are areas Nigeria can and should improve. By doing so, it is not to appease Washington. It is to safeguard its global reputation. The good news is that it is already happening. The biometric visa regime is now operational in Nigeria. It has been implemented for over a decade. If the United States is unaware, show it to them. If they are ignoring such positive development, condemn their attitude. The Nigerian American relationship spans decades of military cooperation, economic engagement, and people-to-people ties. These levers of engagement can be subtly recalibrated. For instance, Nigeria may signal a review of its participation in certain bilateral military or counterterrorism collaborations. This is not to jeopardize regional security, but to remind its partners that relationships must be rooted in mutual respect.

Similarly, Nigeria must start playing the long game by diversifying its alliances. The world is shifting into a multipolar order. The time has come for Nigeria to deepen strategic partnerships. This includes not just the West but also emerging powers like India, Brazil, and China. Nigeria must also strengthen regional solidarity within the African Union and ECOWAS. We applaud the current administration for its intentional shuttle diplomacy. Many applaud because its value in deepening and diversifying strategic partnerships is unquantifiable.

A Wake-Up Call for Domestic Reform
This episode, whether real or rumoured, must also serve as a mirror for introspection. If Nigeria is perceived globally as a migration or security risk, then its internal systems of governance need urgent reform. The documentation processes also need immediate improvement. Additionally, Nigeria’s diplomacy efforts must be reformed without delay. The Nigerian Immigration Service must upgrade its capacities. The diplomatic missions must engage in proactive image-building. The Diaspora is Nigeria’s most powerful soft power asset. It must be genuinely mobilised to advocate for access. It must also promote fairness and respect in host countries. Let it be clear: Nigeria’s Diaspora remits over $20 billion annually, fuels innovation, and builds bridges of understanding between nations. If that is not strategic capital, what is?

Leverage Multilateral and Regional Platforms

Though it delivers no immediate advantage, Nigeria should see this as a chance to enhance its moral and diplomatic leverage. This is ideal for long-term strategy but not enough as an immediate reciprocal action. President Bola Ahmed Tinubu as current rotational Chairman of ECOWAS must call a regional dialogue on Western immigration policies. It could consider raising concerns at the African Union (AU): to foster collective African response or solidarity. It must also investigate if the visa ban affects businesspersons and violates trade facilitation principles. If infractions can be proven, Nigeria must consider making a formal representation to the United Nations (UN). It should also consider addressing the World Trade Organisation (WTO).

Putting Nigeria First, Always
In this moment, the real challenge is not America’s rumoured decision, but Nigeria’s response. Do we rise to the occasion with maturity, or stumble into the trap of populist chest-thumping? A reciprocal action must not be equal in method but equal in meaning. And the most meaningful message Nigeria can send is this: we are not just a recipient of global policy. We shape global policy. We will act not out of wounded pride but strategic necessity. We will not match bluster for bluster but build the global stature that makes future slights diplomatically unthinkable.

As the world watches, Nigeria must show that it chooses strategy over spite. It opts for reform over revenge. It prioritizes leadership over lamentation. That is the reciprocity that matters most.