Muazu Elazeh

What exactly did Nigerians expect from President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, a man who ran for the number one office in the land with a clear sense of entitlement? What, in practical terms, did Nigerians believe he meant when he confidently declared that 2023 was his turn? These questions will continue to resonate across the country as citizens try to understand the direction of the Tinubu presidency.

Since assuming office on 29 May 2023, President Tinubu has behaved in ways that constantly remind Nigerians of how he secured the APC presidential ticket and ultimately ‘won’ the 2023 presidential election. What we have seen is a presidency characterised by entitlement, one that seems to feel no obligation to deliver the sort of governance Nigeria desperately needs.

For anyone paying attention, Tinubu’s governance approach has been marked by a pattern of trial-and-error decision-making. Besides his political dexterity and his clear focus on the 2027 election, the president’s actions have mostly been characterised by hasty policies, avoidable mistakes, and controversial reversals.

Take his now-famous declaration that “fuel subsidy is gone”. This is a pronouncement made without any clear plan to cushion the shock. This was even more striking given PBAT’s long history of criticising subsidy removal and spearheading nationwide protests against it. The consequence was immediate. A rise in the cost of goods and essential services, widespread hardship, and the rapid erosion of Nigeria’s middle class. In today’s Nigeria, you are either comfortably at the top or struggling at the bottom; the once-stable middle class has virtually disappeared.

To be fair, subsidy payments had become unsustainable even before Tinubu assumed office. However, such a major policy decision required careful planning to mitigate its impact. The president and his team did not bother to put any of these in place. They did not think deeply about it.

As a result, Nigerians now pay close to N1,000 for a litre of fuel. They battle crushing transportation costs, rising rents, skyrocketing school fees, escalating healthcare expenses, and a general increase in the cost of living. All of this is unfolding alongside worsening insecurity that has led to the displacement of communities, keeping farmers away from their farms and traders away from markets. This has been what defines the Tinubu presidency from its inception to date. In fairness to him, some of these, like the seemingly intractable insecurity, were inherited.

Over the last two years, the administration has also made several policy reversals that are embarrassing and raise questions about whether the government thoroughly considers the implications before announcing major policies. Whether it was the attempt to peg the minimum age for admission into tertiary institutions at 18, the 0.5% cybersecurity levy, the expatriate employment levy or the recent 15% fuel import duty that had to be reversed after public uproar, the administration has shown an unsettling tendency to flip-flop on critical issues.

Tinubu had promised that his ministers would be evaluated, and those who failed to perform would be removed. Nigerians were told that the Special Adviser to the President on Policy and Coordination, Hadiza Bala, would oversee the process, supported by a team of ministerial delivery desk officers who would monitor performance and escalate challenges. Two years later, despite many ministers having delivered little in terms of governance or contribution to the administration’s public standing, no meaningful action has been taken. Those who left did so for political reasons or under the guise of health concerns, such as the former Defence Minister, Abubakar Badaru.

Under Tinubu, Nigeria is also operating what essentially looks like two budgets, the 2024 and 2025 budgets, running simultaneously. With only days left in 2025, there is still no public discussion about the 2026 budget. But perhaps this is simply the PBAT way of doing things.

This week, the president unveiled the long-awaited list of ambassadorial nominees. For months, Nigeria’s foreign missions had been operating without ambassadors. One would assume that after such a long delay, the president would put forward individuals of proven integrity – people whose track records inspire confidence and who can credibly represent Nigeria.

But true to PBAT’s pattern, he delivered exactly what sceptics expected – a list filled with mediocre nominees, many of whom carry heavy moral baggage. The selection appears less about strengthening Nigeria’s global standing and more about settling political IOUs or rewarding allies.

It is deeply troubling that, after such a long break, what emerged is a list that many Nigerians feel falls far short of the standard required for diplomatic service. Some of the nominees are individuals who, in a more functional system, would be answering serious questions about their past actions instead of being rewarded with postings abroad.

But this is a classic PBAT. The ambassadorial list reminds us of the way he assembled his cabinet after taking more than 60 days to do so. He presented a mix of recycled politicians, underperforming former governors, and individuals whose résumés speak more to mediocrity than merit.

Unsurprisingly, the ambassadorial list, like the ministerial list, has stirred controversy. As Ambassador Joe Keshi rightly noted, some of the nominees should have been cooling their heels in prison. Without prevarication, some individuals on the list are not the kind of people who should represent Nigeria as ambassadors. Even the most ardent supporters of the president cannot justify the inclusion of some names on the list.

I sympathise with some members of the ruling APC whose grievance is that some of the nominees include people who opposed the party and its candidate during the last presidential election. For these aggrieved party loyalists, that the list comprises individuals who openly insulted the president during the build-up to the 2023 polls undermines their belief in a fair and just reward system.

However, most Nigerians who criticise the list do so because it contains individuals who, in the estimation of many, lack the competence and credibility expected of ambassadors. That list includes individuals who can be anything but ambassadors.

Sadly, nothing will change because the National Assembly will not conduct a rigorous screening. This is perhaps the most rubber-stamping National Assembly Nigeria has ever had, one that routinely approves almost everything brought before it by the executive.