by Mohammed Bello Dorka
We ask this question not out of curiosity but out of deep frustration. The answer, as many Nigerians have observed, is that most of you and your supporters are indeed reading. That is precisely why from time to time you disable your comments sections, shutting down the voices of the very people you claim to serve. If you were truly confident in your governance, would you fear the words of those you govern?
Nigerians are angry. Nigerians are hungry. Nigerians are desperate. The World Bank reports that poverty in Nigeria has risen to 63 percent, translating to roughly 141 million Nigerians now living below the poverty line. The United Nations World Food Programme projects that 35 million people will experience severe hunger in Nigeria in 2026, the highest on the African continent and the largest number since the agency began recording data. And yet, faced with these staggering figures, what occupies your attention? Retaining power at all costs. Increasing taxes. Paying media houses and data boys to massage your ego and make you feel better about a reality that grows more unbearable by the day.
Do you not study history? Let us remind you of five countries where corruption, bad governance, and economic mismanagement led to violent protests with catastrophic consequences for both the elite and the state. In Sudan, decades of corruption and economic mismanagement under Omar al-Bashir sparked nationwide protests in 2019, triggered by the removal of bread subsidies and rising food prices. The protests grew into a revolution that forced the military to remove al-Bashir from power after thirty years of iron-fisted rule. In Kenya, the 2024 anti-finance bill protests turned deadly, with parliament ransacked, police firing live ammunition, and scores of young protesters killed. The government was forced to withdraw the bill, but not before the nation had been scarred by the violence. In Burkina Faso, violent demonstrations against deteriorating security and government corruption erupted in Ouagadougou in January 2022, leading directly to a military coup that ousted President Roch Kaboré. In Tunisia, the flagrant corruption of President Zine El Abidine Ben Ali and his family, contrasted sharply with high unemployment and rising food prices, ignited the Jasmine Revolution in 2011. Ben Ali, who had ruled for twenty-three years, was forced to flee into exile, his regime collapsing in weeks. In Haiti, years of institutionalized corruption, runaway inflation, and gang violence fueled by state collapse have left the country in a state of near-total disintegration, with thousands killed and hundreds of thousands displaced.
These are not distant anomalies. They are the logical endpoints of governance that prioritizes the comfort of the powerful over the survival of the people.
Your party, the APC, from state levels to the national assembly, sponsors millions with chicken change to defend you online. You deploy armies of data boys armed with smartphones and hashtags to shout down critics, manufacture consent, and paint a picture of progress that exists only on carefully curated timelines. But have you noticed a curious thing? Most of these defenders use pseudo accounts. Only a very few are foolish enough to stand by you with their real names and faces. They know, even if you pretend not to, that the anger they are defending against is real. They know that the voices of the people cannot be drowned out forever by bots and bought comments. They see the fury. They feel the frustration. And they are smart enough to hide.
Let us look at the numbers you refuse to see. Headline inflation in Nigeria rose to 15.69 percent in April 2026, driven by higher food, transport, and healthcare costs. The combined rate of unemployment and underemployment reached 42 percent as of March 2026. The World Bank projects 141 million Nigerians will live in poverty by 2026, while the Global Hunger Index ranks Nigeria 115th out of 123 countries. Thirty-five million Nigerians face acute food insecurity. These are not opposition propaganda. These are figures from the National Bureau of Statistics, the World Bank, and the United Nations. So we ask you again: do you not learn from these figures?
The consequences of ignoring them are well documented. Leaders who rule with iron grips but fail to build their nations always meet the same end, not in glory, but in disgrace. Ferdinand Marcos ruled the Philippines for two decades, enriching his family and cronies while the economy collapsed under the weight of corruption and debt. He was driven from power in 1986 and died in exile in Hawaii, his name forever synonymous with kleptocracy. Mobutu Sese Seko ruled Zaire for thirty-two years, amassing one of the largest personal fortunes in the world while his country descended into poverty and ruin. He was overthrown by rebel forces in 1997 and died in exile in Morocco. Samuel Doe of Liberia seized power in a bloody coup, ruled brutally and corruptly, and plunged his nation into a catastrophic civil war that killed over two hundred thousand people. He was captured and executed by rebel forces in 1990. Jean-Bédel Bokassa, who declared himself emperor of the Central African Republic, ruled with such cruelty that he was overthrown by French paratroopers and forced into exile. Even Sani Abacha, Nigeria’s own brutal dictator, died suddenly in 1998, leaving behind a legacy of looting and repression that still haunts this nation, his name listed as the fourth most corrupt leader in history.
None of these men built their countries. None left behind prosperity or peace. They left ruins, refugees, and bitter memories. And they all fell, one way or another.
Dear Nigerian leaders, the comments section you keep disabling is not your enemy. It is your warning. It is the sound of a people who are tired, who are hurting, and who will not be silenced forever. You can pay for defenders. You can delete critical posts. You can surround yourselves with praise singers and sycophants. But you cannot delete reality. You cannot hashtag away hunger. You cannot retweet poverty into prosperity.
The question is not whether Nigerians will rise. The question is what you will do before they do. Learn from history, or be condemned to repeat it. The choice, for now, remains yours. But not for long.
Mohammed Bello Doka can be reached via bellodoka82@gmail.com
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