
When President Bola Ahmed Tinubu declared recently that his administration had given more money to Nigeria’s state governments than any government before him, many Nigerians raised their eyebrows. It was not that the president’s claim was false — indeed, data from the Federation Account Allocation Committee (FAAC) confirms that allocations to states have surged remarkably since the removal of fuel subsidy in 2023.
What puzzled Nigerians, however, was the contradiction between this unprecedented flow of funds and the visible lack of development in most states. From the streets of Owo to the hinterlands of Zamfara, from Lagos’ overcrowded suburbs to the forgotten villages of Abia, the question remains the same: if the states are now richer, why are the people still poorer?
President Tinubu himself, clearly frustrated by this contradiction, once told Nigerians pointedly to “ask your governors how they are spending the money.” That remark, made during one of his national engagements, was more than an offhand comment — it was a subtle indictment of the country’s state leadership and an attempt to redirect public scrutiny.
This article probes that paradox — the riddle of a nation awash with cash yet trapped in chronic underdevelopment. It is a tale of structural rot, political greed, weak accountability, and a governance culture that rewards consumption over production.
Tinubu’s Economic Gamble and the Flow of Money
When President Tinubu assumed office on May 29, 2023, he came with the audacious slogan: “Let the poor breathe.” One of his earliest and most consequential decisions was to remove the petrol subsidy — a move long advised by economists but dreaded by politicians.
The logic was simple: subsidy removal would free up trillions of naira previously lost to inefficiency and corruption, allowing the federal and state governments to fund real development projects. Alongside the unification of the exchange rate, these reforms led to a surge in federally distributable revenue.
Indeed, FAAC reports between mid-2023 and late 2024 show that state allocations skyrocketed — in some cases by more than 100 percent. Oil revenues improved, and non-oil income through VAT and customs also increased. Tinubu’s claim that he had “given the states more money than any government in history” was, therefore, factual.
Yet, the streets tell another story.
Across Nigeria, civil servants still groan under unpaid wages, pensioners die waiting for gratuities, schools are dilapidated, and hospitals remain shadows of mercy. The roads that lead to our farms, schools, and markets are impassable. Despite all the money, the hunger in the land deepens.
And so the President’s challenge to Nigerians — “Ask your governors” — rings even louder.
The States as Black Holes of Accountability
One of the greatest tragedies of Nigeria’s federalism is that the states — which should be engines of regional growth — have become the weakest links in the chain of development. For years, governors have behaved like emperors rather than chief servants. With the federal allocations coming in monthly, they operate without sufficient oversight.
Unlike the federal government, whose budgets and spending patterns are often under media scrutiny, most states operate in near secrecy. Procurement laws are ignored, financial statements are rarely published, and local governments are held hostage through caretaker committees and joint accounts.
The result is predictable: the bulk of these increased allocations go into consumption and politics, not development. Governors spend lavishly on convoys, “security votes,” foreign trips, and cosmetic projects. Many have turned state resources into campaign war chests for future political ambitions.
In states like Oyo, Kogi, and Ondo, citizens still wonder how the increased FAAC inflows have improved their lives. The same old excuses persist — dwindling IGR, rising cost of governance, and inflation. Yet, when one looks at the plush new government houses, the endless convoys, and the expanding retinue of aides, the truth becomes undeniable.
The problem is not a lack of money. It is a lack of discipline, direction, and accountability.
The Myth of More Money Equals More Development
It is tempting to believe that the more money you give a government, the more development it will deliver. But in Nigeria, that assumption collapses. Development does not automatically follow money; it follows planning, vision, and integrity.
When a government lacks clear developmental blueprints, additional revenue becomes a curse. It feeds inefficiencies and emboldens corruption. Because the more there is to spend, the more there is to steal.
Take infrastructure, for example. Many governors hurriedly announce road projects, markets, or hospitals after each FAAC windfall. But most of these projects are poorly conceived and hastily executed. Many are abandoned once the political spotlight shifts. Others are inflated to drain public coffers.
Meanwhile, critical sectors like education and agriculture remain underfunded. Teachers still work in uninhabitable classrooms; farmers struggle without irrigation or access roads; and young people are left idle because vocational and skill development centres are mere signboards.
Thus, more money has not translated into more productivity. Instead, Nigeria remains a consumption economy, where every new revenue boom becomes an opportunity for new waste.
The Ghost of Corruption Still Haunts Nigeria
The Nigerian anti-corruption battle has been a long, exhausting one. From the days of the EFCC’s early triumphs under Nuhu Ribadu to the current climate of political compromise, corruption has proven more resilient than reform.
At the state level, corruption thrives in creative ways — through inflated contracts, ghost projects, and selective patronage. In some states, contractors are forced to “settle” political godfathers before payments are approved. Others simply get mobilization fees and vanish into thin air, leaving half-completed projects as monuments of deceit.
The Auditor-General’s reports — where they exist — are damning. Billions of naira remain unaccounted for yearly. And yet, prosecutions are rare. The anti-graft agencies focus more on opposition figures than sitting governors or their cronies.
This selective justice deepens public cynicism. People have learned to expect little from government because they know that no matter how much money comes in, the system will find a way to swallow it.
The Missing Link: Local Governments and the Death of Grassroots Development
Perhaps the biggest victim of this national failure is the local government system. As the third tier of government, local councils should be the closest to the people. They should be the ones fixing rural roads, building markets, maintaining primary schools, and running health centres.
But as earlier discussed in Owo Today’s previous feature, local governments in Nigeria are under siege. Their funds are hijacked by state governors through the Joint Allocation Accounts. Council chairmen have become figureheads, often handpicked by governors and answerable only to them.
The result is total paralysis at the grassroots. Rural communities — where over 60 percent of Nigerians live — are trapped in neglect. There are no functioning health centres, no reliable water supply, no modern markets, and no local industries.
Even with Tinubu’s increased allocations, the situation has not improved. The money flows from Abuja to state capitals and stops there. What should reach the local councils is trapped in political pipelines. And so, development never reaches the people.
Inflation, Policy Uncertainty, and the Erosion of Impact
Even where some states have tried to implement genuine projects, galloping inflation and unstable economic conditions have undermined their efforts. The naira’s depreciation and rising cost of materials have doubled or tripled project costs, making even honest efforts appear futile.
For instance, a road contract awarded for ₦2 billion in 2022 could now cost ₦5 billion due to inflation. States that budgeted in old naira values are now trapped in cost overruns. Yet, instead of re-evaluating priorities and tightening expenditure, many simply borrow more or abandon projects altogether.
Worse still, many state governments have failed to stimulate internal economic growth. They depend entirely on federal allocations, ignoring local resources and industries that could boost internally generated revenue (IGR). This dependency ensures that even when money comes, it is spent, not invested.
Without an enabling economic policy that supports production, agriculture, small businesses, and innovation, Nigeria will continue to spin in circles — a country always receiving but never developing.
The People’s Complicity and the Cost of Silence
While leadership bears the lion’s share of the blame, the Nigerian people are not entirely innocent. Years of neglect have numbed citizens into silence. Elections have become transactional; votes are sold for peanuts, and accountability is traded for stomach infrastructure.
This culture of indifference allows leaders to get away with waste and mismanagement. Citizens rarely demand transparency in how FAAC funds are used. Budgets are passed without scrutiny, and public hearings are poorly attended.
In developed democracies, every new allocation sparks debate on how it will be utilized. In Nigeria, allocations are celebrated like lottery wins — not as tools for measurable development but as political blessings for the ruling class.
Until the people demand better — through civic engagement, investigative journalism, and electoral consciousness — the cycle of underdevelopment will persist.
What Must Change
To break free from this cycle, Nigeria needs more than revenue; it needs a new governance ethic anchored on transparency, planning, and accountability.
1. Public Financial Transparency:
Every state should be mandated to publish monthly allocation receipts and expenditure reports. Citizens must be able to track how their money is spent in real time.
2. Independent Anti-Corruption Mechanisms:
Anti-graft agencies must operate without political interference. Investigations into state finances should be regular and public, regardless of political affiliations.
3. Empowered Local Governments:
True grassroots development will only happen when local councils are financially and politically autonomous. The Supreme Court’s recent judgment on local government autonomy must be fully enforced.
4. Productive Governance:
States must move beyond allocation sharing to actual wealth creation — by supporting agriculture, mining, small industries, and tourism. Each state must find its economic niche and nurture it.
5. Citizens’ Action:
Nigerians must learn to connect governance with their daily lives. The same energy used on social media outrage must translate into civic participation and electoral accountability.
Conclusion: Money Without Vision Is a Mirage
President Tinubu may be right that his government has given the states more money than any before him. And he was right again when he told Nigerians to “ask their governors” what they have done with the funds. For indeed, the question no longer rests at Aso Rock; it now hangs over every Government House across the federation.
Nigeria’s crisis has never been about scarcity; it has always been about stewardship. Without vision, discipline, and honesty, even rivers of revenue will dry into puddles of disappointment. Development is not measured by how much money flows from Abuja, but by how much transformation happens in the lives of ordinary people — in Owo, in Otukpo, in Gusau, in Yenagoa.
Until that transformation becomes visible, Nigerians will continue to wonder: where did all the money go?
Jimoh Ahmed writes from Owo, Ondo State.
