The ‘Nigeria First’ Policy – Real Transformation or Empty Rhetoric?

In the midst of Nigeria’s complex social, economic, and political challenges, the phrase “Nigeria First” has steadily emerged as a recurring theme. Championed under the Renewed Hope Agenda of the current administration, the slogan has become a familiar soundbite at official functions, policy announcements, and development summits. But beyond the headlines, what does “Nigeria First” really mean — and is it delivering results?

 

At its heart, the policy is about prioritizing Nigeria’s national interest, strengthening local industries, building homegrown capacity, and reducing reliance on foreign goods and services. It echoes the age-old belief that no nation develops by depending entirely on imports or external assistance. Instead, true growth comes when a country invests in itself — its people, its businesses, its industries.

 

The push for a Nigeria-first approach didn’t emerge in isolation. For decades, Nigeria’s economy has been vulnerable to global fluctuations — from oil price crashes to supply chain disruptions. The COVID-19 pandemic exposed deep gaps in local manufacturing, healthcare capacity, and food security. Add to that the challenges of unemployment, rising inflation, and the lingering impacts of fuel subsidy removal, and it becomes clearer why a policy that focuses inward could resonate at this time.

 

The government’s message is straightforward: Nigeria cannot afford to continue outsourcing its development. Through initiatives that support local businesses, enforce local content laws, and encourage agricultural self-sufficiency, the administration hopes to create jobs, stimulate the economy, and make Nigeria less dependent on global uncertainties.

 

For example, the Central Bank’s intervention programmes, including the Anchor Borrowers Programme and targeted credit for small businesses, reflect efforts to translate the Nigeria First philosophy into action. Similarly, policies that aim to reduce food imports — such as rice and poultry bans — are part of a broader strategy to build domestic industries.

 

But while these policies sound promising on paper, the realities on ground paint a more complicated picture.

 

Many Nigerians are skeptical — and understandably so. Years of unfulfilled promises, systemic corruption, and slow policy implementation have made citizens question whether slogans like “Nigeria First” will truly translate into improved living standards. Small businesses still struggle with unreliable power, high production costs, and limited access to affordable credit. Inflation continues to erode household incomes, and unemployment remains stubbornly high.

 

It’s also true that prioritising local industries without building capacity can backfire. Restrictive import policies, for instance, have sometimes led to higher prices for everyday goods, making life harder for ordinary citizens. In such cases, it becomes easy to dismiss the entire policy as mere rhetoric.

 

But governance is rarely as black and white as it appears. Many of the trade-offs involved — such as balancing immediate consumer relief with long-term industrial development — are difficult and often unpopular. Decisions to limit certain imports or push for local production can cause short-term discomfort, but they are also part of a longer-term vision to stimulate job creation, develop industries, and build economic resilience.

 

It’s important to recognise that no country develops without facing these tough decisions. Nations like China, India, and even the United States have, at different points, implemented similar protectionist policies to nurture local industries and build capacity. The difference lies in consistent execution, accountability, and ensuring that the public sees tangible benefits over time.

 

Critics are right to demand transparency and better implementation. A “Nigeria First” policy will only succeed if supported by investments in infrastructure, education, technology, and good governance. Local businesses need reliable electricity, efficient transport systems, and reduced bureaucratic bottlenecks to compete effectively. Moreover, policies must be inclusive, ensuring that women, youth, and vulnerable communities also benefit.

 

The skepticism many Nigerians feel is not misplaced, but neither is the ambition of the Nigeria First agenda inherently flawed. It reflects a recognition that true economic sovereignty requires building capacity from within — but achieving this demands more than slogans. It requires patience, political will, accountability, and above all, a partnership between government, private sector, and citizens.

 

In the end, whether “Nigeria First” becomes a transformational policy or fades into the long list of forgotten political catchphrases depends on how it is implemented. If backed by real action, it could mark a turning point toward greater economic independence and resilience. If not, it risks being yet another slogan that promised much but delivered little.

 

Nigerians deserve honest dialogue about the complexities of governance. Progress may be slow and uneven, but the goal remains — building a Nigeria where Nigerians come first, not just in words, but in lived reality.