IMF, World Bank And The Nigerian Tragedy

If we were to take a step back and look at the whole financial ecosystem that powers the world today, we’d see a few shady characters standing around the corner with very sleek suits, smooth-talking their way into people’s homes. Yes, I’m talking about the World Bank and IMF, those friendly neighbours who offer you “help” but end up handing you a bill for your entire life. And in this case, the neighbors aren’t lending you some sugar or garri; they’re lending you money with a trapdoor underneath your feet. Ask any developing nation, especially Nigeria, about this twisted relationship, and the story will sound like a dark fable with a few real-life horror scenes mixed in.

After World War II, the World Bank and IMF were created with promises as sweet as our grandmothers’ stories: they’d rebuild economies, they would restore broken nations, they would be our fiscal knights in shining armor. But we all know that not every shiny thing is gold. These financial institutions behave more like loan sharks than knights. They dangle the carrot of loans before our leaders, but behind the carrot lies a big stick, ready to beat us into submission with “conditions.” Now, let’s not get carried away with the carrot here; it’s not even a fresh one; just a recycled, wrinkled thing they have handed out to other developing nations before us. And don’t be fooled, no matter how much we borrow from these so-called saviours, we are always left poorer than before. It’s like borrowing from someone who gives you a shiny spoon but tells you to sell your only pot to pay for it.

Just look at Nigeria. We have been dancing to the IMF and World Bank’s tune for decades, and trust me, the music is terrible. Every time Nigeria needs help (which is like every other year), we’re forced to swallow the bitter pills these institutions prescribe. And let’s not kid ourselves, the pills come with instructions like “cut fuel subsidies,” “increase electricity tariffs,” and “devalue the naira.” These are not solutions; they’re punishments. They’re like telling a hungry man to skip meals just to prove that he’s really hungry. You see the problem?

Let’s talk about poverty. Before embracing these IMF/World Bank policies, the Nigerian economy, while not ideal, was far better than what we have today. For example, the unemployment rate, in 1990 before full-scale adoption of Structural Adjustment Programs stood at about 5.2 percent, against about 33 percent in the year 2023. In other words, this means that over a three-decade period, it has risen more than fivefold. What is worse, youth unemployment stood at an unimaginable 53.4%, meaning a majority of our youths are sitting idle with no jobs in view. If that isn’t cause for alarm, I don’t know what is.

Before we opened our doors to the so-called assistance of the IMF, the rate of poverty in Nigeria was around 40.1%. Terrible, but not crippling. Fast-track to 2023, and a staggering 133 million Nigerians-pretty over 63 percent of the population live below the poverty line. Yes, you read it right; nearly two-thirds of Nigerians are currently classified as poor, many of them eking out less than $1.90 daily. Mind you, this is after trillions of naira in loans from the IMF and World Bank were pumped into the economy to “help” us develop.

Meanwhile, those at the helm of affairs keep trying to sell these sacrifices to us as avidly necessary for the sake of “long-term economic stability.” Long-term for whom, exactly? Certainly not for the everyday Nigerian, barely able to afford a meal. Disposable income for the average family has shrunk almost to nothing. According to the World Bank, the per capita GDP has actually been falling from $2,280 in 2015 to $2,065 in 2022. So, with all the loans and policies being touted to “boost the economy”, the real income of Nigerians has actually been on the decline. How do you reconcile that?

The inflation rate in Nigeria is among the highest in the world at 32.70% and is expected to increase even further throughout 2025. Basic commodities have become uncontrollably expensive, and for Nigerians, the pinch is felt in their wallets day in and day out. Of course, let us not talk about how it feels for Nigerians with regards to their currency. In 1990, it was around N8 to $1. Today, it’s about N1,700 to $1 on the parallel market. Can you imagine that level of devaluation? Little wonder ordinary people can no longer afford what they call a unit good in the market.

It has been very devastating in terms of quality of life. For example, Nigeria is said to have one of the highest rates of suicide on the African continent. Of course, it is not difficult to see why: hopelessness, unemployment, and constant hand-to-mouth struggles have driven many Nigerians to the edge. WHO statistics rated the suicide rate in Nigeria to have reached 17.3 per 100,000 persons in the year 2022, a number that shoots crazily upwards from two former decades. It is like the IMF hands us a noose of debt, and when unable to pay back, we are left choking.

What can best demonstrate that the World Bank and IMF has Nigeria on choke-hold was the callous and insensitive statement made at 30th Nigerian Economic Summit in Abuja by the World Bank’s Senior Vice President Mr. Indermit Gill on October 14, 2024. Mr. Gill had the nerve to tell Nigerians that we need to keep these so-called ‘reforms’ going for “another 10 to 15 years” to fix our economy. He is so sure that the Nigerian people are so docile and inept that they will stomach for another decade and more.

Ten to fifteen more years of these IMF policies means 10 to 15 more years of skyrocketing unemployment, poverty, inflation, and hopelessness. It’s basically asking us to willingly set ourselves on fire slowly, year after year, hoping that somehow, by some miracle, things will get better. It’s like asking a starving man to starve for a little longer so that he can become stronger. What kind of twisted logic is that?

It’s bad enough that we’ve been forced into this cycle of poverty and dependency, but to now be told we need to endure it for another decade or more is simply cruel. Nigerians are already tired. We’re tired of the promises, tired of the suffering, tired of seeing our leaders sell out our future to foreign institutions while they get richer and richer.

Meanwhile, in the plush offices of Aliko Dangote or Bola Tinubu, the money is piling up on schedule. They are making money from the back of the ordinary Nigerian while the IMF and World Bank are faking their care. But let’s face it-this is not charity; this is business. And in this business, the poor become poorer, and the rich obscenely richer. That’s how the game is rigged.

The hub of this web of deceit is our natural resources-oil, solid minerals, arable land. Nigeria has enough natural wealth that can place it in the class of many developed nations, but do we ever get to fully leveraging it? Of course not! Instead, the World Bank and IMF just swoop in, use these resources as collateral, and by the time they are through with us, we have nothing but empty oil barrels and no land. And it doesn’t help that we have had a string of awful rulers who are more interested in selling out the country for political favors or personal luxury than in building anything of lasting value for the people.

Let’s be frank for a minute: Buhari, Tinubu, and those other big men couldn’t give a hoot about the poor suffering masses. They are the ones who okay these disastrous IMF policies without batting an eyelid. They are the types of leaders that fly out to London for checkups the moment health systems at home collapse. They have kids studying in fanciful schools abroad while millions of Nigerian children sit at home because ASUU has gone on strike again. And when the economy eventually collapses, as it is bound to under the weight of the IMF’s conditions, they can board their private jets, clutching their multiple passports, and disappear over the horizon.

But we, the ordinary Nigerians? We remain here, holding the bag-or rather, the empty pot-thinking about how it all went wrong.

It is high time we woke up to the reality that the World Bank and IMF are not our friends. They got one job, and that job is keeping us dependent on the West. They want our oil, minerals, and land and would do whatever it would take for them to have a pipeline of raw materials from us back into their countries, while we remained neck-deep in debt. They don’t care about “development” or “economic growth.” Those are just buzzwords they throw around to make it sound as if they’re helping. In fact, they’re the fiscal equivalent of that friend who claims to help you move but shows up late, eats all your food, and leaves you with a broken sofa.

And it is not the only case in which Nigeria fell into that trap. Look at Africa; everywhere one looks, it is the same song that has been sung repeatedly: Zambia, Ghana, Kenya, they have all fallen victim to this World Bank and IMF game. These countries were once full of hope, with ambitious plans to lift their people out of poverty. But after decades of borrowing, they’re drowning in debt, forced to cut essential services like education and healthcare just to pay the interest on these loans.

If you want to see a real horror show, look at countries like Argentina, Greece, and Venezuela-nations that followed the IMF’s policies to the letter and ended up with their economies in shambles. It instructed Argentina to devalue its currency and to sell off public services. The result? Soaring inflation and a general increase in poverty. In Greece, they demanded a cut in pensions and an increase in taxes; the result was mass protests and widespread social unrest. Venezuela, at one time one of the wealthiest countries in Latin America, today serves as a warning about what happens if you allow these financial institutions to call the shots on your economic policy.

What’s the game here? Unless this is stopped-and trust me, it won’t be stopped unless we start taking different roads-we are literally headed for a situation in which all of Africa, and most especially Nigeria, will just be an extended farm for the so-called developed world. And with the way our youthful population is growing, that’s like an active bomb just waiting to explode. The streets are already filled with frustrated young people who have no jobs, no opportunities, and no hope. What happens when that frustration boils over? What happens when the youth say, “Enough of the IMF games, enough of this government incompetence?”

I will tell you what: chaos. And when the roof caves in, that same political class that sold us out will be nowhere to be found. They’ll be sipping champagne in some European villa while the rest of us pick up the pieces.

It does not have to be that way. We do not have to keep on playing this rigged game. Nigeria is gifted with the resources, the talent, and the potential for building a strong, self-reliant economy. The thing we need is leadership with interests in the long-term well-being of its people, not just lining their pockets. We need to break ourselves from dependence on the World Bank and IMF and utilize our own natural resources for ourselves. We have to forge regional partnerships with other African nations so that we stand in unison, fighting against economic colonization that these institutions represent.

After all, it is left up to us. We can either remain tenants of the landlord or start building our house. The question is: for how long will we continue to let them gain from our misery before we take on the mantle of responsibility? Because if we don’t, then we will be passing on a legacy of dependency and poverty to generations that may come afterward. Trust me, the World Bank and the IMF will be more than happy to keep us there. Well, after all, that is good business for them.

Disclaimer: This article is entirely the opinion of the writer and does not represent the views of The Whistler.