By Abdulrauf Aliyu
The Nigerian government’s jubilant celebration of a 3.46% GDP growth rate in Q3 2024 is akin to a football team proudly parading a shiny participation medal while their fans go hungry and the stadium crumbles around them. GDP, like a scoreline, may tell a story of movement, but it does not capture the lived realities of the people. The selective focus on GDP growth as a marker of prosperity exposes the government’s fundamental misunderstanding of development, much like a chef mistaking the aroma of a dish for its taste. If prosperity is the meal Nigeria craves, the ingredients of poverty reduction, shared wealth, and inclusive growth are still missing.
Let us be clear: GDP growth is not inherently bad, but it is no more a measure of national well-being than the size of a car’s engine is a measure of its reliability. A car with a powerful engine but broken wheels and a leaking fuel tank is just as immobile as one with no engine at all. Nigeria’s economy is that sputtering car—its GDP engine whirring, while inflation, unemployment, and inequality keep it firmly stuck in the mud.
The triumphalism surrounding GDP ignores the harsh reality of a headline inflation rate nearing 40%, a punishing 27.5% interest rate, and a middle class shrinking faster than an ill-washed sweater. For the millions who struggle to afford basic goods or secure stable jobs, the government’s proclamations of growth are as hollow as a drumbeat without music. What, after all, is the point of a higher GDP if it simply makes the rich richer while the poor drown in an ocean of rising prices and dwindling opportunities?
The government’s cognitive bias—a desperate clinging to one shiny number while ignoring the rot beneath—calls to mind a student who celebrates their handwriting while failing every exam. Behavioral economists like Daniel Kahneman would describe this as a classic case of “narrow framing”: focusing on a single aspect of a problem while ignoring its broader context. By waving the GDP banner, the government distracts itself—and attempts to distract the nation—from the grim realities of daily life.
To better understand this, we can turn to the late Dudley Seers, a visionary economist who posed three fundamental questions about development: Does it reduce poverty? Does it reduce inequality? Does it create employment? Nigeria’s answer to these questions is a resounding no. Seers warned against the kind of myopia that mistakes growth for progress, much as a builder might mistake a pile of bricks for a house. GDP measures economic activity, but it does not care whether that activity benefits the many or the few, whether it creates jobs or exacerbates unemployment, or whether it lifts people out of poverty or entrenches it further.
Consider Nigeria’s service-sector-driven growth, the engine behind this much-touted GDP rise. The service sector is like a glittering high-rise in a city surrounded by shanties: impressive from a distance, but of little use to those outside its walls. Services, while important, are not labor-intensive enough to address Nigeria’s chronic unemployment crisis. Agriculture and manufacturing—the real job creators—remain underdeveloped, their potential as squandered as an athlete sitting on the sidelines.
The government’s celebration of GDP also ignores its glaring inequality. Picture a dinner party where one guest feasts on a banquet while the others pick at crumbs. A rising GDP does not mean everyone is eating; it merely means more food is being served. In Nigeria’s case, inflation has so eroded purchasing power that even middle-class households are struggling to put food on the table. For the millions below them, survival is a daily battle.
The Central Bank’s aggressive interest rate hikes, ostensibly to combat inflation, are like prescribing chemotherapy for a broken arm: an overcorrection that risks killing the patient. While inflation in Nigeria is largely supply-side—driven by rising costs of goods and services rather than excess consumer demand—interest rate hikes primarily target demand. The result? Small businesses, already battered by high costs and limited access to credit, are being squeezed out of existence. These businesses, the lifeblood of the Nigerian economy, now face the double whammy of shrinking margins and vanishing customers.
The late Amartya Sen’s ideas in The Idea of Justice offer a timely critique of this lopsided approach to development. For Sen, true progress lies not in the size of the economic pie but in how it is shared and whether it enhances freedoms and capabilities. A 3.46% GDP growth rate is cold comfort to a nation where millions lack access to quality education, healthcare, and basic infrastructure. Prosperity, in Sen’s framework, is not a number but a lived experience—a life free from hunger, illiteracy, and indignity. By this measure, Nigeria is failing spectacularly.
The government’s approach to growth also suffers from a lack of sustainability. A service-sector-driven economy is a flimsy ladder for a nation with Nigeria’s demographic and resource profile. Agriculture and manufacturing, sectors that can absorb large numbers of workers and drive export revenue, are underutilized. This is like owning a fertile farm but choosing to decorate it with plastic flowers. Without addressing the structural weaknesses in these critical sectors, Nigeria’s growth is nothing more than a castle built on sand.
Inequality, too, has become a yawning chasm. When inflation hits 40%, the wealthy insulate themselves with foreign investments and diversified portfolios, while the poor are left to watch their meager earnings evaporate. This widening gap between rich and poor is not just an economic failure; it is a ticking time bomb for social stability. The government’s selective amnesia—its refusal to address these disparities—calls to mind the story of Nero fiddling while Rome burned.
Productivity, another critical ingredient for shared prosperity, remains abysmally low. Investments in education and healthcare—essential for building a capable and resilient workforce—are inadequate. The consequences are evident in Nigeria’s dismal economic output per worker. This is like trying to sail a ship with a tattered sail and a leaking hull. Without addressing these foundational issues, even the most celebrated growth figures will prove fleeting.
Dudley Seers’ questions and Amartya Sen’s framework provide a roadmap for a better path forward. Poverty, inequality, and unemployment are not inevitabilities; they are policy choices. The government must shift its focus from cosmetic growth to meaningful development. This means investing in human capital through education and healthcare, revitalizing agriculture and manufacturing, and creating an enabling environment for small and medium-sized enterprises. Infrastructure development, particularly in rural areas, can unlock untapped potential and bridge the urban-rural divide.
Accountability, too, is non-negotiable. Corruption siphons resources that could otherwise be used to build schools, hospitals, and roads. A government that tolerates this rot is not merely incompetent; it is complicit. Transparency and integrity must become the cornerstones of governance if Nigeria is to reclaim its potential.
It is time for the Nigerian government to abandon its cognitive biases, stop hiding behind GDP, and face the harsh realities of its policy failures. GDP growth, in its current form, is like a gilded cage: shiny on the outside but imprisoning on the inside. True prosperity cannot be measured in numbers alone. It must be felt in the lives of people—in their ability to live with dignity, to dream of a better future, and to know that their government serves them, not itself. Until this is realized, the celebration of GDP will remain nothing more than a hollow parade.
