For decades, Nigeria’s future has been framed largely through the lens of religion, with insufficient attention paid to trade and economic development—the true engines of productivity, shared prosperity, and national cohesion.
As the global order undergoes profound change, Nigeria must also rethink its priorities. Economic growth, not religious identity, should be the central driver of national progress. That shift is long overdue.
Nigeria’s population is often described as evenly split between Islam and Christianity, with Muslims concentrated in the North and Christians in the South. While broadly accurate, this narrative oversimplifies a far more complex reality.
There is no monolithic “Muslim North” or “Christian South.” Religious minorities exist across all regions, alongside adherents of African traditional religions. More than 250 languages and dialects are spoken nationwide, underscoring Nigeria’s deep ethnic and cultural diversity.
With a population exceeding 200 million people spread across 923,768 square kilometres of varied terrain, Nigerians have coexisted since 1914, when the British colonial administration amalgamated the Northern and Southern Protectorates. Despite this diversity, the country has endured—an achievement in itself.
Yet, rather than leveraging this diversity as a strength, Nigeria has too often allowed religious and cultural differences to dominate public discourse. The emphasis on division has overshadowed the enormous benefits that could flow from intentional economic cooperation between regions and communities.
Trade, historically, has been one of Nigeria’s most effective unifying forces. Long before modern politics, commercial exchange linked Northern and Southern Nigeria, fostering interdependence, trust, and mutual benefit.
In my book, Becoming President of Nigeria: A Citizen’s Guide (2022), I dedicated a chapter to “Trade as a Unifying Factor for Cooperation Between Northern and Southern Nigeria,” highlighting how economic collaboration once bridged regional and religious divides.
The choice before Nigeria is therefore clear: continue defining the nation’s future by religious identity, or anchor it on trade, economic opportunity, and shared prosperity. History suggests that unity is more likely to be built in the marketplace than in the pulpit.
Viewed from the standpoint of ordinary Nigerians—free of the political colourations often imposed by the elite—most citizens, whether Hausa/Fulani, Yoruba, or Igbo, want to live together in peace. It is therefore deeply troubling that more than 50 years after the civil war, nearly 60 years after independence, and over a century after amalgamation, separatist agitations such as IPOB and MASSOB persist. At the same time, threats by Arewa youth groups against Igbos in the North and rising calls for an Oduduwa Nation in the South-West point to a growing national disaffection.
Paradoxically, it is in the best interest of major economic actors across Nigeria for the country to remain united. A single Nigerian market serves the interests of the Fulani cattle herders under Miyetti Allah, just as it benefits Igbo traders whose commercial footprint spans Lagos, Abuja, Maiduguri, and Kano. The Yoruba, whose artisans and traders operate nationwide—from Port Harcourt to Sokoto—also thrive on the opportunities created by one Nigeria.
Historically, trade was a powerful unifying force. Through commerce, Fulani herders established thriving enclaves in parts of eastern Nigeria, particularly Enugu, where mutually beneficial relationships with host communities flourished.
As a former reporter with the Nigerian Television Authority (NTA), I travelled extensively across the country documenting the ties that bind Nigerians. In Enugu, I once met a Hausa/Fulani man, born and raised there through the cattle trade, who spoke flawless Igbo. Fully assimilated into the local culture, his story symbolised a Nigeria where integration was once natural and commonplace. One is compelled to ask: what went wrong?
It is equally in the interest of the Igbo for Nigeria to remain united, if only for trade. The story of Okonkwo & Sons, an Igbo trading post in Kano that later evolved—through local inflection—into what became known as Kwankwaso, underscores how deeply interwoven Nigeria once was. The settlement later produced Dr. Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso, a two-time governor of Kano State and presidential candidate in 2023.
Before the civil war of 1967–70, Igbos were dominant in commerce across much of Northern Nigeria until the conflict uprooted them. Similarly, Yoruba traders from Ibadan, Ogbomosho, and surrounding towns once moved freely northwards, trading in kola nuts, driving taxis, and practising various crafts. Today, such labour mobility has become increasingly rare.
With Nigerian traders now facing hostility in neighbouring countries, especially Ghana, it is evident that Nigerians need one another more than ever. There is strength in numbers, as demonstrated by large, diverse nations such as China, India, and the United States. Diversity itself is not a curse; Switzerland, with its rotating power-sharing arrangement among ethnic groups, offers a compelling counterexample.
These reflections, drawn from my 2022 book written ahead of the 2023 elections, are worth revisiting as the 2027 polls approach. Familiar political fault lines are once again being exploited. It is against this backdrop that recent warnings by the Minister of Culture, Arts, and the Creative Economy, Hannatu Musawa—that dropping Vice President Kashim Shettima as the APC’s running mate in 2027 could be politically disastrous—should be understood.
The minister’s comments have further heated the polity amid growing rumours that Vice President Kashim Shettima may be dropped ahead of the 2027 elections, as several political actors reportedly angle for the number two position.
The controversy dates back to June 14, 2025, when Mustafa Salihu, the APC’s North-East Deputy Chairman, omitted Shettima’s name during a party meeting. This was long before the United States designated Nigeria a Country of Particular Concern (CPC) on October 31 and later struck suspected terrorist camps in Sokoto State on December 25.
Tensions escalated at a regional endorsement rally in Gombe for President Bola Tinubu’s second-term bid, where Shettima’s name was again excluded as the President’s running mate. The omission sparked a disgraceful fracas, with supporters of the Vice President clashing violently with organisers.
Against this backdrop, the question arises: Is the anxiety over Shettima’s future real or merely speculative? Is this not a familiar pattern in Nigerian politics, where vice presidents become politically vulnerable as incumbents seek re-election?
In an attempt to calm nerves, the APC leadership explained that, as the ticket is joint, there was no need to name a running mate until the re-election bid is formally launched. Ordinarily, this should have settled the matter.
However, Minister Hannatu Musawa’s public warning, widely amplified by the media, reignited the controversy and risked inflaming religious sensitivities, particularly in light of the U.S. designation of Nigeria as a CPC over alleged persecution of Christians.
Given the sensitivity of the issue, it should have been handled internally rather than debated publicly. This raises a critical question: should the minister have raised her concerns quietly with party leadership or the President, instead of further heating the polity?
Public grandstanding rarely resolves complex political crises. Although the party has since issued a reprimand, the damage appears to have been done.
History offers useful lessons. In 1984, General Ibrahim Babangida subjected the question of accepting an IMF loan to public debate, triggering needless national tension. By contrast, President Bola Tinubu’s decision to remove petrol subsidy on May 29, 2023, followed by a managed float of the naira, was executed decisively despite initial opposition.
Leadership, ultimately, demands restraint, strategy, and quiet resolve—not public spectacle.
At the end of the debate, overwhelmed by competing voices, Nigerians rejected the IMF loan and opted instead for the Structural Adjustment Programme (SAP). Yet, once implementation began, General Ibrahim Babangida abandoned the reforms as the resulting hardships proved too severe. Ironically, the same reforms public pressure discouraged in 1984—contributing to Babangida’s exit in 1985—are now being implemented by President Bola Tinubu.
Unlike in 1984, the removal of petrol subsidy and the reform of the naira in 2023 were not subjected to prolonged public debate, though they faced resistance. President Tinubu persisted, and nearly three years on, Nigeria’s economic fundamentals have begun to shift positively.
While it is not yet Uhuru for many Nigerians, it is evident that the economy is stabilising. Prices that once rose uncontrollably have largely stopped accelerating, a fact even critics of the administration concede.
One can only imagine where Nigeria might be today had such reforms been pursued in 1984. Subjecting a highly technical decision like the IMF loan to mass debate allowed emotion to override expertise, rendering the policy dead on arrival.
Remarkably, a policy once rejected as unviable has become a game-changer under decisive leadership. By cutting through the noise, President Tinubu implemented long-delayed but necessary reforms, freeing Nigeria from decades of flawed economic policies under the Renewed Hope Agenda.
The results are beginning to show: foreign reserves have risen above $46 billion, student loans are expanding access to higher education, and international bodies—including the World Bank, IMF, S&P, Fitch, Moody’s, The Economist, and PwC—have offered positive assessments.
The lesson is clear. Policies dismissed as bitter pills may be the very remedies a nation needs. When complex economic decisions are surrendered to public grandstanding, progress is often the casualty.
When the right decisions are repeatedly deferred, they become solutions delayed. Nigeria’s long-postponed socioeconomic reforms are a case in point. For decades, emotionally charged debates paralysed past leaders until President Bola Tinubu finally took the bull by the horns and unshackled the country.
The question now is whether history will repeat itself or whether Nigeria will sustain the pragmatic approach Tinubu has adopted—most notably in removing petrol and foreign exchange subsidies through decisive executive action rather than endless public debate.
Against this backdrop, it is reasonable to expect that President Tinubu will resolve the question of Vice President Kashim Shettima’s place on the 2027 ticket pragmatically, unswayed by the loud political noise currently dominating the airwaves.
Notably, little attention has been paid to the resignation of Dr. Abdullahi Ganduje, a Muslim, as APC National Chairman in June 2025 and his replacement by Professor Nentawe Yilwatda, a Christian. This transition appears to reflect a deliberate balancing strategy by Tinubu—one that has left opposition parties visibly disoriented, confronting a leader deploying 21st-century political tactics while they remain stuck in analogue mode.
Fuelled by Minister Hannatu Musawa’s public intervention, influential commentators such as Dr. Reuben Abati, ex-presidential spokesman, Arise Tv anchor man, Thisday newspaper columnist, and Simon Kolawole, publisher of TheCable.ng, Thisday newspaper columnist has amplified the debate in both print and broadcast media via Abati’s Tuesday column last week and last Sunday column by Kolawole. And those not enamored by the proposition of the trio of Musawa, Abati and Kolawole have fired salvos that are currently not trending in the mainstream but in the underground media. Yet this is a matter that ought to have been settled quietly within party circles, guided by Nigeria’s strategic interests in an increasingly competitive global order.
Once issues of religion are thrown into the public arena, rational judgment often gives way to emotion. As Karl Marx famously observed in his work “A Contribution to the Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right”, religion can become “the opium of the people.” That danger looms large in the current debate over whether the 2027 ticket should be Muslim–Muslim or Muslim–Christian—a rerun of the polarising dynamics that defined the 2023 elections.
However, Tinubu’s track record suggests he will not allow religion to overshadow governance or derail the economic reforms already yielding results. With opposition parties fragmented and weakened, the President has little incentive to risk reopening old wounds that could undermine the credibility of his reform agenda.
Before concluding whether religion should continue to define Nigeria, it is instructive to look elsewhere. In the Gulf states, where faith is deeply embedded, governance has increasingly been guided by pragmatism rather than doctrine. Saudi Arabia, for example, is aggressively diversifying beyond oil and gas and embracing the digital economy. The sight of women freely driving mobility vehicles at the FII conference in Riyadh (a.k.a. Davos in the Desert) last November which is an event I personally attended, symbolises this shift.
The lesson is clear: nations that prioritise economic welfare and social stability over identity politics are better positioned for progress. Nigeria should take note
In the UAE, economic priorities rather than religion drive national success, producing a vibrant environment akin to New York, Paris, and London. These Gulf nations, once defined by strict religious norms, now prioritise sustainable economies while practising faith without fundamentalism.
Globally, political office is fiercely contested—whether in the UK’s parliament, the US presidency, or Arab monarchies. High-stakes rivalry is inevitable because power and influence are at stake. In Nigeria, it is unsurprising that politicians are angling to unseat incumbents, including Vice President Kashim Shettima.
Yet ambition must be tempered. Disrupting the momentum of Tinubu’s reforms could set the country back or inflict lasting damage, especially amid external pressures. Lessons from Trump’s US policies are instructive: trade tools and military leverage are used to punish nations obstructing US interests or tolerating religious intolerance. Nigeria must navigate these realities prudently.
Tinubu’s reforms, particularly the removal of petrol and foreign exchange subsidies, are beginning to yield tangible benefits. Unlike past leaders, he acted decisively rather than bowing to public debate, demonstrating that visionary leadership can overcome entrenched resistance. Adversaries abroad—from South Africa’s trade setbacks due to high tariffs imposed by US for suing lsreal, a US ally to court for alleged Gaza atrocities and joining BRICS; to Cuba and Venezuela’s economic isolation and strangulation for being allies to Russia- a US rival and allegations that the US is not only punishing Canada with high trade tariffs but also aiding separatists in Alberta region of Canada —illustrate the high stakes of strategic missteps in international relations.
Back home in Nigeria history also offers caution. During Obasanjo/Atiku (1999–2007), disputes over the 2003 ticket derailed major programs such as the privatization exercise rendering the energy- electricity and oil/gas privatization project abandoned.
During Yar’Adua’s presidency, Goodluck Jonathan feared being sidelined, by a powerful ex- governor from a key niger delta state. Interestingly the political heavyweight was on voluntary political hibernation, so Jonathan’s fear was unnecessary. Eventually, circumstances elevated him via the Doctrine of Necessity from no 2 to no 1 Aso Rock Villa occupant.
However, Boko Haram’s insurgency exploited the political fault lines arising from resistance from the north. Similarly, Osinbajo had to navigate a delicate role under Buhari to avoid outshining the president, though his competence secured continuity in 2019, thus he didn’t face the challenge of not being on the ballot for re-election.
As the 2027 elections approach, fears over religious imbalance and Shettima’s potential sidelining echo these historical patterns. Minister Hannatu Musawa’s warning has amplified these tensions. Yet, Nigeria now looks to President Tinubu to exercise prudence, ensuring that ambition, religion, and politics do not derail the progress his reforms have begun to deliver.
In any case, has the bruhaha helped or diminished Shettima’s political career, which has been on the ascendancy since he left the banking world in 2007 to serve as a commissioner in Borno state and later a two-term governor before becoming a senator of the Federal Republic of Nigeria and now vice president?
In my calculations being under 60 years old, he has age on his side. In the event he is called upon to make a sacrifice for Nigeria to sail into a safe shore and be promised to be the priority and exclusive presidential candidate of the APC in 2031, if I were him, l will take it even though I am not unaware that political promises are as good as and worth only the value of the papers they are written on.
Whatever way the tide turns, from what I have gleaned about Shettima, he is a team player and can hold his own confidently.
After all, when Tinubu exits power presumably in 2031 all things being equal Nigeria will need a steady pair of hands to consolidate the gains of his administration. Who else would fit that role better than the co-pilot from when the ship set sail?
In any case, I do not doubt that Tinubu, Shettima, and Nigeria will cross that bridge if the ship is forced by stormy waves to head in that direction.
The lesson is clear: nations that prioritise economic welfare and social stability over identity and religious politics prosper. Nigeria’s future depends on leadership that balances ambition with vision, protecting reforms that can lift millions from stagnation while navigating the minefield of domestic and global pressures.
Magnus Onyibe, an entrepreneur, public policy analyst, author, democracy advocate, development strategist, an alumnus of the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University, Massachusetts, USA, a Commonwealth Institute scholar, and a former commissioner in the Delta State government, sent this piece from Lagos.