A striking feature of Nigeria’s current economic debate is the enthusiasm with which huge numbers are circulated—and the casualness with which they are assembled.
Tax collections are added to oil receipts; oil receipts are added again under customs or “subsidy savings”; borrowing is treated as income; and the resulting total is presented as proof of incompetence or theft.
This is not an economic analysis. It is an arithmetic illusion. At the core of most viral critiques of Tinubunomics lies a fundamental failure to distinguish between revenue, cash, and financing, and between federation-wide collections and federal budgetary resources. These are not technicalities. They are the foundation of public finance. Revenue is not the same as cash available to the Federal Government.
Borrowing is not income; it is financing and creates future obligations. Federation receipts are not equivalent to what the Federal Government can spend. Once these distinctions are ignored, any number—no matter how dramatic—can be manufactured.
The familiar pattern runs as follows. Aggregate tax collections are cited, often correctly, in gross terms. Oil revenues are then added without clarifying whether they are gross or net, federation-wide or federally retained, or whether costs, deductions, and under-recoveries have been netted off.
Customs receipts are layered on, sometimes without stating whether they are already embedded in non-oil revenue totals. Borrowing is then added as though it were free money. Finally, “subsidy savings” are thrown into the mix, as if stopping a fiscal leak produces a vault of idle cash.
The result is a large headline number— N150 trillion, N170 trillion, N180 trillion—followed by the question: where did the money go? The answer is straightforward: much of it never existed in the form being i m p l i e d . Subsidy reform, for instance, does not conjure discretionary cash. It closes a hole. Under the old regime, underpricing manifested through a r r e a r s , opaque netting, and quasi-fiscal obligations.
Reform first eliminates these hidden drains. The fiscal benefit appears gradually— through reduced deficit p r e s s u r e , better budgeting discipline, and explicit, targeted support—not through a sudden pile of spendable “savings.” Debt figures are similarly abused. A significant portion of Nigeria’s recent increase in debt stock in naira terms reflects exchange-rate revaluation of existing external obligations, not fresh borrowing.
When the exchange rate adjusts, the naira value of dollar-denominated debt rises automatically. Treating this accounting effect as new borrowing is a category error, not a discovery. Most persistently, federation-wide collections are presented as if they belong solely to the Federal Government. They do not. Revenues in a federation are shared, earmarked, netted, and statutorily allocated.
Federal budget reality is determined by FGN retained revenue plus deficit financing, not by gross federation inflows aggregated for political effect. Tinubunomics was never a promise of instant abundance. It is a macro-fiscal reset undertaken within hard constraints: inherited debt service, FX realism, security spending, legacy arrears, and competing constitutional obligations.
Its logic is structural—restoring price signals, strengthening revenue administration, rebuilding credibility, and re-pricing the public balance sheet while protecting the most vulnerable.
Those who insist on treating national finance as a household ledger will always find scandal where none exists. But accountability does not begin with social media addiction. It starts with audit logic.
The proper way to interrogate government performance is simple: examine federal retained revenue; separate it clearly from financing; track expenditure across debt service, personnel, capital, and transfers; and then assess outputs—roads built, power delivered, rail extended, schools and clinics rehabilitated. Anything else is not subject to scrutiny. It is a theatre. And no amount of theatrical arithmetic can substitute for fiscal discipline.
