On October 1, 2025, Nigeria turns 65. That is more than a date on the calendar: it is a juncture at which we must assess the promise of independence, and ask whether the dream has advanced or stalled. We celebrate sovereignty, but sovereignty without progress is hollow. At 65, Nigeria stands in contested terrain: a land of resilience, of brilliance and sorrow, of possibility and failure. In marking this milestone, we must interrogate three intertwined domains, development, democracy, and human rights, not as abstract ideals but as empirical benchmarks by which a nation is judged.
The shadow of comparison
To understand Nigeria at 65, it is instructive to glance at other nations born in the mid-20th century, which have by now matured into stable, high-income or upper-middle-income states. Malaysia, another country that gained full independence in 1957, is illustrative: its GDP per capita (PPP) now exceeds $30,000; life expectancy exceeds 76 years; it enjoys a place in the global semiconductor supply chain. Singapore (1959, though a distinct path) has become a global financial hub with a gross national income per capita over $75,000 and a Human Development Index (HDI) of 0.938 in 2023 (ranked among the highest). These are peaks, not modest benchmarks.
Closer to Nigeria’s latitude, take Ghana (1957). Ghana’s per capita income (PPP) sits around $6,500–$7,000; its HDI is 0.673 (2023), putting it in the medium-human development bracket; its democratic institutions, though imperfect, have held through peaceful transitions. Nigeria today has an HDI of about 0.424 (2023 estimate) (placing it among the lowest globally) and a human development ranking in the bottom third. (Source: UNDP Data)
Hence, the question for Nigeria is not only whether we have done better than before, but whether we are closing the gap with nations that started at roughly the same moment.
Development: gains dwarfed by deficits
On paper, some strides are undeniable. At independence in 1960, Nigeria had only one university (Ibadan) plus a handful of secondary schools; today there are over 274 universities, 183 polytechnics, and 236 colleges of education. The expansion of educational infrastructure is real, and acts of state policy to expand access should be credited.
Yet, access is not the same as quality. Literacy rates remain weak, particularly among rural populations and women. Nigeria’s adult literacy (as of the latest comparable data) is about 62 % (or lower in some surveys), while nations in East Asia, Latin America, and even many in sub-Saharan Africa boast rates above 90 %. Infrastructure remains spotty: reliable electricity, safe water, roads, digital connectivity, all are still far from universal.
In macroeconomic terms, Nigeria still relies heavily on oil revenue. The volatility of global oil prices, the weak diversification of the economy, and recurring fiscal mismanagement have meant that decades of resource wealth have not translated into sustained broad-based growth. The government of President Tinubu, in its 2025 Independence Day broadcast, claimed that “the worst is over,” citing 4.23 % GDP growth in Q2 and inflation at 20.12 %, the lowest in three years. But one should note that inflation at 20 % still imposes harsh burdens on households. Food inflation in particular remains chronic.
Poverty is deep and widespread. Over 129 million Nigerians, nearly two-thirds of the population, live below the national poverty line (per recent IMF and media reporting). The social safety nets, though expanded by social investment programs, cannot yet conceivably reach that scale.
Compare that to Malaysia, where about 2–3 % of the population lives below the poverty line today; or Thailand, where robust infrastructure and human capital investments have translated into middle-income status. Nigeria’s “gains” are often survival gains, not leaps forward.
One structural difficulty is demographics. Nigeria remains a very young country: the proportion of population aged 65 or older is only about 2–3 %, while children and youth dominate the structure. The dependency burden is heavy on the working-age cohort: a high fertility rate (above 4 children per woman) persists, slowing the ascent of per capita incomes. Thus, Nigeria still faces the “youth bulge” challenge: how to turn demographic pressure into a dividend, rather than a burden.
In contrast, countries that matured early have shifted their systems toward aging populations, enforced savings, and human capital accumulation. The fact that Nigeria is still in the demographic transition means it must run faster just to stay in place.
Democracy: repeated promises, fracturing trust
Over six and a half decades, Nigeria’s flirtation with democracy has been turbulent. Military coups, intervals of authoritarian rule, and repeated resets have left scars in the political culture. Since 1999, however, Nigeria has remained in a civilian regime. Yet the quality of that regime is contested.
Electoral integrity is uneven. While peaceful transfers of power have been achieved, weaknesses in institutions remain. The Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) is criticized for inconsistencies; accusations of vote buying, suppression, and logistical failures persist. Voting behavior in recent elections has correlated with socioeconomic indices, suggesting that citizens in better-off states tend to favor parties with better policies (rather than purely ethnic alignment). But such correlations highlight disparities rather than solutions.
Freedom House and other indices classify Nigeria as a “hybrid” or “partly free” democracy, not fully consolidated. Press freedom is under pressure; journalists face harassment, censorship, or imprisonment in certain contexts. Civil society remains vibrant but often constrained by legal or extralegal levers.
The public’s view of governance is stark: a recent NOIPolls survey found that 60 % of Nigerians believe the country is on the “wrong track,” even while 74 % still consider Independence Day “important” or “very important.” The contradiction is telling: identity and pride persist, but hope in ruling institutions has frayed.
In developed democracies born in the post-colonial era, the trust in institutions is often higher (though not perfect). Malaysia, India, and even Ghana have stronger institutional continuity and lower levels of executive overreach. In Nigeria, too many political transitions reset rather than evolve.
Another democratic stressor is governance divorce: policy implementation lags institutional designs. Corruption remains endemic. Transparency International continues to list Nigeria among the highest in perceived corruption globally. The state’s capacity to regulate, enforce, and uphold contracts is undermined by weak rule of law and overlapping authorities. And local governance, the governments closest to the people, often lacks empowerment or resources, making devolution more rhetorical than real.
Human rights: the gulf between promise and practice
If democracy is about systems, human rights is about people. On this front, Nigeria’s record is punctuated with crises: communal conflicts, religious violence, police brutality, extrajudicial killings, arbitrary detention, suppression of protests, gender-based violence, forced displacement, and more. The yawning gap between constitutional guarantee and lived reality remains acute.
The Oputa Panel (Human Rights Violations Investigation Commission) was established in 1999 to investigate abuses under military regimes from 1984 to 1999. But its final report, delivered in 2002, was never fully implemented or acted on by successive governments. That failure to enforce accountability is emblematic: turning a page without resolving past injustices invites recurrence.
Insurgencies in the northeast (Boko Haram, Islamic State’s West Africa branch), herder–farmer violence in the middle belt, banditry in the northwest, kidnappings in the south, all reflect a state struggling to protect its citizens. For years, the government has struggled to guarantee basic safety, much less promote the rights to redress, movement, fair trial, or property security.
Gender and minority rights remain fragile. Women and girls suffer disproportionate violations: female genital mutilation, early marriage, sexual violence, limited access to education in some regions, and constrained economic participation. Religious and ethnic minorities often complain of marginalization, forced relocations, and impunity for attacks.
Globally, developed countries do not have perfect human rights records either, but they often embed enforcement: courts, oversight bodies, civil society, media scrutiny, independent policing, reparations. Nigeria has many of these formal trappings, but their credibility is weak when political interference, underfunding, intimidation, or executive disregard intervene.
In many developed democracies, protecting human rights is not an act of benevolence but a requirement of legitimacy. For Nigeria, treating human rights as optional has eroded that legitimacy.
Where the gap lies: culture, elite choices, and countervailing forces
Why, after 65 years, does Nigeria lag so far behind its peers? The reasons are manifold, but several structural patterns recur.
First, elite predation: Nigeria is cursed by the fact that successive leaderships have often extracted value for private gain rather than public good. The rentier nature of the state, heavily dependent on oil revenue, rewards extraction rather than productive investment. As one commentator wrote, “Nigeria’s 65-year journey has been one of paradoxes … the promise of independence was always to build a strong, democratic, and inclusive nation.”) Another: “Nigeria has not lacked resources; it has lacked stewardship.”) These are blunt indictments, but they resonate because citizens live them daily.
Second, institutional fragility: We have built too many institutions in name, anti-corruption agencies, electoral commissions, police oversight bodies, but invested too little in their independence, capacity, and durability. In a comparison, Singapore or Malaysia invested strongly in bureaucratic professionalism from their early years; Nigeria shifted governmental structures repeatedly, weakening continuity.
Third, federal–regional dissonance: Nigeria’s structure is complex, with federating units often at odds with central mandates. Intergovernmental transfers, resource control, and revenue allocation debates have bred inefficiency, duplication, and politics. States often lack capacity to deliver basic services even when resources flow; sometimes, resources remain trapped in subnational corruption.
Fourth, social inequality and regional imbalance: Development is notably uneven. The south (especially the southwest and middle belt) has seen more private-sector dynamism, infrastructure, and human capital accumulation; large swaths of the north lag behind in schooling, health, infrastructure, and investment. That inequality fractures national cohesion and reduces the possibility that a rising tide lifts all boats.
Fifth, external dependencies: Nigeria remains dependent on external borrowing, international grants, imported technology, foreign exchange inflows, and international validation. Independence was supposed to loosen those chains. Some critics argue that, “on paper, the country is independent… but in practice, successive leaders have leaned heavily on foreign powers, western institutions, and imported solutions for almost everything.” (The shadow of external dependency constrains policy autonomy and magnifies vulnerability.
Finally, the burden of security costs: Nigeria spends significant resources on internal security, military, policing, surveillance, often at the expense of investment in education, health, and human capital. When battlefield budgets overshadow human budgets, the yields are muted.
Paths forward: closing the gap
An editorial is not merely a dirge but a call to action. At 65, Nigeria must resolve to accelerate reforms rather than merely reflect. Below are pillars that must guide a renewed national compact.
- Institutional investment over transactional politics
We must strengthen, not bypass, institutions. Anti-corruption agencies should receive not only legal empowerment but fiscal autonomy and insulation. The judiciary, especially at lower levels, must be freed from executive interference. Local governments must be empowered with resources, oversight, and accountability. - Human capital first
No nation outgrows education. The quality of schools, teacher training, curriculum relevance, and equitable access must command priority. Health systems must be expanded with reliable primary care, maternal health, vaccination, nutrition, and universal health coverage. The returns on such investments are long-term but multiply across generations. - Diversify economy, reward productivity
We must move away from rent extraction to value creation. Agriculture must be modernized; small and medium enterprises must be supported with access to capital and markets; industrial policy must link education, technology, and infrastructure. Economic zones, digital infrastructure, and export pivoting are not luxuries but necessities. - Security through rights-based approaches
The state’s monopoly on violence must be tethered to human rights norms. Policing must be reformed; extrajudicial killings eradicated; intelligence oversight established; community policing expanded. Rights protection is not a “before peace” demand, it is a foundation of peace. - Use data, evaluate, adjust
Policies must be evidence-based, tracked, and evaluated. When a program fails, it must be modified, not escalated. Transparency in budgeting, data publication, and public accountability must become quotidian. - Leadership culture shift
The culture of selfless service must return. Public office must mean sacrifice, not spoils. The example of leaders must match their rhetoric. In the words of the President in his 65th Independence broadcast: “For decades, the promise of our Independence has been tested … While we may not have achieved all the lofty dreams … we have not strayed too far from them.” That cautionary tone can become a clarion if leaders act. - Engage civil society, media, youth
The state is only half the enterprise of nation-building. Civil society groups, the media, non-profits, religious organizations, and youth must be partners, not adversaries. Freedom of expression must be protected, dissent tolerated, innovation embraced.
65 as a pivot, not a sunset
Nigeria’s 65th birthday should not be a moment for complacency, or despair but a turning point. We cannot pretend that the last 65 years delivered all we hoped; we must admit the gaps. Our pride in independence should fuel, not mute, critique. As we say in Hausa, “Zafi ba ya hana dumi” even when heat hurts, it reminds us of warmth’s necessity.
We must aim not to be proud of what we have amassed, but of what we accomplish in the next 65 years. In the early decades, nations like Malaysia and Singapore adopted no mythical advantages, they chose consistency, integrity, strategic investments, and credible institutions. Nigeria, too, has the raw materials, a large population, diverse lands, energetic youth, cultural wealth. What remains is the will to turn potential into performance.
Let this 65th Independence Day be less a commemoration than a covenant: a covenant that the next decades will not merely repeat old patterns, but break them; that democracy will deepen; that development will be inclusive; that human rights will be nonnegotiable; that institutions will gain trust; that leadership will earn respect. In that undertaking lies the true measure of a nation no longer defined by its past but by its purposeful ascent.
