iPostThisWeek

Every rainy season, the Southeast region of Nigeria wages a silent, losing war against gravity and water. From the precarious slopes of Nanka and Oko to the expanding ravines of Abia and Imo, torrential downpours do not merely wet the soil; they carve it away. Millions of tons of fertile earth wash into ever-widening gullies, swallowing homes, severing arterial highways, and displacing entire communities.   Meanwhile, hundreds of kilometres to the north, vast expanses of arable land lay dormant for over half the year, parched by prolonged dry seasons and waiting helplessly for the next rains.   Nigeria faces two simultaneous ecological realities: an overwhelming surplus of destructive water in the South, and an acute, economically crippling deficit of water in the North.   For decades, these challenges have been treated as isolated disasters managed by reactive relief funds and piecemeal erosion control projects. But what if we stopped viewing Southern floodwater as...

Nigeria stands at a pivotal historical crossroads. Long hailed as the "Giant of Africa," the nation has seen its immense potential weighed down by the crushing financial weight of its own political elite. While tens of millions of citizens endure economic hardship and inadequate public infrastructure, vast public revenues continue to fund executive mansions, luxury vehicle fleets, private foreign medical trips, and international schooling for political families.   To make Nigeria giant again (TOMANGA), a fundamental restructuring of governance is required. Reform must begin at the root of the problem: transforming public office from a lucrative lifetime venture into a disciplined, accountable public service.   This article is organised into three sections that set out the arguments for why these reforms are essential to building a “ New Nigeria.” Section A Ending the Culture of Permanent Privilege in Abuja The current model where lawmakers and officials maintain...

In most parts of the world, a name is a simple personal identifier. In Nigeria, a name is an architectural foundation: a heavy, load-bearing beam designed to carry as many honorifics, academic credentials, religious distinctions, and chieftaincy tags as humanly possible.   Consider the average Nigerian signature line: His Excellency, Chief Barrister, Dr. John Doe - GCFR, SAN, OBE. Or perhaps: Reverend Evangelist Dr. Professor Jane Doe - Chartered. Walk into any corporate boardroom, church sanctuary, or local council office, and you will meet men and women whose titles take longer to pronounce than their actual names. We have created a society where a person is not simply an engineer, an imam, or a retired civil servant; they are Engr. Alhaji Chief Ret. MD CEO.   Nigeria is a country overrun by titles. Yet, in a tragic irony, as the prefix and suffix lists grow longer, our public standards grow shorter. The Satirical Circus of Everyday Salutations The obsession has bec...