Ah, Detty December. That magical time of year when the economy is supposedly on the up, and not a single Nigerian is allowed to think about inflation, currency devaluation, or unemployment rates. Why bother with the mundane matters of GDP or poverty reduction when you’ve got packed clubs, hotel bookings, and a flood of social media posts showcasing the latest ‘baddest’ owambe parties? Certainly, nothing screams economic growth like a booming event industry, right?
The premise is simple: if Nigerians are partying, the economy must be doing just fine. Forget about those pesky little details like rising food prices or the constant shrinkage of the naira’s value against the dollar. The real indicator of prosperity lies in the availability of VIP tables at concerts and the number of influencers posting their extravagant outfits. Who needs long-term development when we can have a month of excessive consumption and social media bragging?
But let’s be real here. Hotel bookings might be soaring, but should we really interpret this as a sign of a strong economy, or are we just seeing a country scrambling to make ends meet in the most extravagant way possible? It’s like someone bragging about the new car they just bought, even though it’s on a loan with interest rates so high, it’s practically a financial death sentence. The appearance of wealth and leisure does not necessarily equate to actual economic strength.
The numbers might be up, but the question remains: who is really benefiting from all this revelry? It certainly isn’t the average Nigerian who is grappling with a devalued currency and a shrinking paycheck. So, we’re celebrating that international tourists are booking rooms in Lagos, but where does the money actually go? Does it trickle down to local businesses, or does it line the pockets of a few elites who, by the way, probably don’t even spend in the local economy? The likes of the rich, famous, and foreign entertainers may be having a blast, but that doesn’t mean the masses are enjoying the ride.
And what about the rest of the year? What happened to those long conversations about sustainable growth, education, infrastructure, and job creation? Well, those topics are apparently not as flashy or Instagrammable. Why focus on the hard work of building an economy when you can have a great show? While Nigerians are dancing in the streets, the real work of economic planning and fiscal policy takes a backseat to quick fixes and flashy headlines.
What’s particularly amusing is how some claim that the sheer number of events and concerts happening during this period is a sign of “economic resilience.” If throwing parties was an indicator of success, then Nigeria would be a superpower by now. Forget about the fact that most of these parties are funded by a very small segment of the population, with the majority of Nigerians left watching from the sidelines, wondering how to pay for the next meal.
It’s also interesting how the people pointing to these events as economic proof seems to overlook the reality of the country’s deeper structural issues. Have they never wondered why it’s so expensive to attend a party in the first place? Why does a local event cost as much as a foreign vacation? Shouldn’t that raise a few eyebrows? Perhaps the real takeaway from Detty December is that, if nothing else, it illustrates the lengths people go to in order to escape the crushing weight of daily life. It’s not economic success; it’s the superficial glow of escapism in the face of systemic failure.
Furthermore, let’s talk about the notorious “tourism dollars” that are supposed to fuel the economy. Newsflash: if the only people visiting are the ones who’ve come for the parties and not to invest, there’s no real economic benefit. The true measure of an economy is not how many people fly in for a couple of weeks of fun, but how many businesses are thriving in the long run. We must ask whether these events create real value or are simply brief distractions to mask the inefficiencies of the system.
In the end, the obsession with Detty December as an economic barometer is a classic case of missing the forest for the trees. The real measure of a country’s progress is not how many people are dancing, but how many people can afford to live decently without depending on the fleeting excitement of an annual festival. Instead of congratulating ourselves for how “great” our December was, maybe it’s time to focus on making the other 11 months equally, if not more, prosperous.
So yes, throw your parties, enjoy your owambes, and post all the selfies you want—but let’s not kid ourselves into thinking it’s a reflection of an economy that’s truly thriving. It’s just a mirage, a smoke-and-mirrors show, parading as the real deal.
