n recent years, the national discourse has been dominated by debates on Nigeria’s rising debt profile. Commentators, policymakers, and citizens alike have been fixated on what Nigeria owes—an understandable concern given that the country’s public debt stood at over N87 trillion as of 2024. Simultaneously, discussions around what Nigeria owns—its vast natural resources, human capital, and economic potential—are often framed as assets capable of solving our problems if only we manage them better. But focusing on these binaries misses the bigger picture: Nigeria’s true wealth is not simply a matter of what it owes or owns. Rather, it lies in its capacity to convert potential into tangible value through strategic governance and visionary leadership.

The obsession with debt as a burden obscures its utility as a tool. Debt, in itself, is not a problem; it is how it is utilised that matters. Singapore and Rwanda, two nations often celebrated for their remarkable transformations, leveraged debt strategically to build infrastructure, develop human capital, and create environments conducive to business and innovation.

Nigeria’s debt challenge, therefore, is not the sheer size of its obligations but its lack of productive investment in areas that yield returns. Borrowing to fund recurrent expenditure or service existing loans is akin to planting seeds and consuming them before they can grow into harvests.

On the other hand, focusing exclusively on what Nigeria owns is equally problematic. Yes, we are a nation endowed with vast oil and gas reserves, arable land, and a youthful population. But these are merely latent assets until harnessed effectively. Ownership, in the truest sense, is about the capacity to transform resources into sustainable wealth for the collective good. For instance, despite being Africa’s largest crude oil producer, Nigeria imports over 80 per cent of its refined petroleum products. This paradox highlights how poor management of our resources undermines their potential.

If we are to assess Nigeria’s true wealth, we must look beyond the physical and financial to the intangible: our human capital, institutional strength, and geopolitical influence. These are the assets that distinguish thriving nations from struggling ones. Nigeria is blessed with a vibrant, youthful population—over 60 per cent of Nigerians are under 25. This demographic advantage has the potential to drive innovation, entrepreneurship, and economic growth. Yet, youth unemployment remains alarmingly high, and brain drain continues to strip the country of its brightest talents.

Diaspora Nigerians remitted over $21 billion in 2023, a significant contribution, but one that highlights the fact that our best minds often find better opportunities abroad. To truly “own” our human capital, we must invest in education, skills development, and creating an enabling environment for innovation.

A nation’s wealth is not measured solely by its natural resources or infrastructure but by the strength of its institutions. Corruption, weak governance, and policy inconsistencies have eroded Nigeria’s capacity to maximise its assets. Countries with fewer natural resources, like South Korea and Singapore, have built robust institutions that ensure accountability, efficiency, and innovation. Nigeria must prioritise institutional reforms to ensure transparency and effective management of public resources.

Nigeria’s position as Africa’s largest economy and most populous nation grants it significant geopolitical influence. Yet, we often fail to leverage this power to drive regional trade, attract foreign investment, or lead in global diplomacy. Harnessing this influence requires strategic thinking and a focus on policies that project Nigeria as a hub for commerce, culture, and technology in Africa.

Politicians and policymakers must rethink the narrative around debt. Debt can be a powerful catalyst for development if it is channeled into productive sectors. For instance, borrowing to build refineries, invest in renewable energy, or modernise agriculture could yield long-term dividends that far outweigh the initial costs. Nigeria must shift from borrowing for consumption to borrowing for transformation.

Ultimately, what Nigeria owns is less important than how it stewards its resources. Ownership implies possession, but stewardship implies responsibility and long-term planning. Stewardship means ensuring that resources are not just extracted but processed and utilised for maximum value. It means planning for future generations, not just the next election cycle.

To move forward, Nigeria needs leaders who are not just managers but visionaries—leaders who can see beyond today’s challenges and seize tomorrow’s opportunities. We must invest in education to harness the potential of our youth. We must reform institutions to build trust and efficiency. And we must use debt not as a crutch but as a ladder to climb toward sustainable development.

Nigeria’s greatest wealth isn’t buried in the ground or tallied in debt ledgers—it lies in the untapped potential of its people, the resilience of its institutions, and the courage of its leaders to redefine what it means to own. As we chart a course for the future, let us remember that true wealth is not just what we inherit but what we build.

 

Mustapha resides in Abuja and can be reached through

muzeyy7@gmail.com