At every turn in Nigeria today, bus stops, malls, shops, even places of worship, it’s not uncommon to hear someone beg for money just to eat. What used to be rare and shocking has now become a disturbing norm. Many Nigerians, especially millennials, say they’ve never seen the country this bad.
The soaring cost of living, aggravated by economic reforms and policy decisions, has pushed millions to the brink. The removal of fuel subsidies in June 2023, once considered a bold step toward economic restructuring, has turned into a nightmare for many households. With the naira steadily weakening and inflation spiking, ordinary income can no longer cover basic needs.
The World Poverty Clock estimates over 70 million Nigerians live in extreme poverty, and this number is growing. Accurate data on the number of street beggars may be elusive, but a walk through major cities reveals a new reality, one where people who were once self-sufficient now plead for food.
This new wave of hunger is backed by numbers. According to the World Bank’s food security report released in September 2024, Nigeria is the fifth-worst-hit country in the world by food inflation and the third in Africa, behind Malawi and Liberia. Since 2023, the number of Nigerians facing acute food shortages has surged by 28 percent.
On the Global Hunger Index, Nigeria ranks 110th out of 127 countries, with a score of 28.8—placing it in the “serious” hunger category.
These numbers paint a dire picture of a nation struggling to feed its people, with food inflation reaching unbearable levels.
Recent data from the National Bureau of Statistics shows the inflation rate soared to 32.7% in September 2024, up from 32.2% the previous month. Food inflation remains the major driver, squeezing household budgets beyond what many can bear.
Rural communities, once reliable suppliers of Nigeria’s staple crops are also crumbling under the pressure. In states like Bauchi, Jigawa, Adamawa, and Borno, farmers face ongoing insecurity, making agricultural production both dangerous and unprofitable. These regions, known for rice, maize, onions, wheat, and cowpea, are barely able to meet local demands.
On social media, the frustration is loud and bitter. One user on X, formerly Twitter, shared a video of a white man distributing bread in Lagos’ Ajao Estate with the caption: “The population of hungry Nigerians is increasing by the day, as a result of wicked policies.” Another, Kennedy John, wrote: “Tinubu and his APC format will turn Nigerians into beggars in the 21st century. We are back to the colonial era.”
Others are turning to dark humour to cope. A user named Felix quipped, “The commentary is hilarious though. It is the person who has eaten that will have the strength to read the Bible.”
Perhaps the most telling example of the crisis lies in the rising cost of beans and Agege bread, a once-reliable staple for low-income earners. In Lagos, residents lament that even this basic meal is now out of reach. For many, it means skipping meals or sacrificing other essentials like transport or school fees.
But this is not just Lagos’ problem. From Ibadan to Kano, from Port Harcourt to Jos, the story is the same: Nigerians are grappling with economic hardship unlike any they’ve seen in decades. Entire families are running on empty, navigating each day as a survival mission.
So dire is the situation that a haunting question echoes across conversations: Was yesterday better than today? Under the heavy weight of “Tinubunomics,” many are beginning to think so.
