World Bank Report and the Nigeria’s Poverty Crisis

When the World Bank’s latest Nigeria Development Update was released in October 2025, it did not just present a set of numbers, it exposed a moral and sustainability crisis at the heart of Africa’s largest economy.

Now, let us even reframe the World Bank report beyond mere economic critique, but as a call for responsible governance, corporate accountability, and sustainable development ethics.

According to the report, 139 million Nigerians now live in poverty, a staggering leap from 87 million just seven years ago. That means roughly six out of every ten Nigerians wake up every day uncertain of their next meal.

Yet, as these numbers dominate global headlines, what is most troubling is not only the depth of the crisis but the government’s instinctive defensiveness. The Tinubu administration’s reaction, describing the data as “contextually misunderstood” reveals a familiar pattern: a preference for narrative management over systemic reform. But poverty is not a perception problem; it is a lived reality for millions of families crushed under the weight of eroded purchasing power and an unforgiving cost of living.

The World Bank Country Director for Nigeria, Mathew Verghis, acknowledged that recent reforms, subsidy removal, exchange rate unification, and monetary tightening have created “stabilisation gains.” But he was equally clear that these gains have not yet reached the ordinary Nigerian. “Despite these stabilisation gains,” he said, “many households are still struggling with eroded purchasing power.”

This statement captures the essence of Nigeria’s sustainability dilemma: economic policies that stabilise the macro-environment while destabilising livelihoods at the base of the pyramid.

At the centre of the debate is a fundamental question what does sustainable reform look like in a country where 46 per cent of citizens live below the poverty line and spend up to 70 per cent of their income on food? For decades, Nigeria has measured progress in GDP growth, foreign reserves, and investor confidence, while ignoring the social indicators that truly define human development: access to nutritious food, affordable healthcare, quality education, and decent work.

When the government’s spokesperson, Sunday Dare, dismissed the poverty line of $2.15 per day as an “analytical construct,” it revealed not just a misunderstanding of global poverty metrics, but a dangerous disconnection from reality. He argued that the figure translates to roughly ₦100,000 a month far above the new minimum wage of ₦70,000 as if that somehow invalidated the World Bank’s findings. But this logic collapses under the weight of basic arithmetic and moral sense.

Data from the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) show that the average cost of a healthy diet per adult per day stood at ₦1,255 as of August 2024 equivalent to ₦75,300 monthly for one adult eating twice daily, and nearly ₦400,000 for a family of four. When set against a ₦70,000 monthly wage, this is not just an economic gap, it is an indictment of policy incoherence and moral failure.

Food inflation, though reportedly easing to 16.87 per cent in September 2025, remains at crisis levels. The reality in markets across Lagos, Kano, and Port Harcourt tells a harsher story, families cutting meals, mothers skipping breakfast so their children can eat lunch, and traders doubling prices just to keep pace with logistics costs and currency depreciation. Poverty in Nigeria today is not abstract, it is visible, measurable, and profoundly human.

From a sustainability perspective, poverty at this scale is a systemic failure a sign that economic growth is not inclusive, and that national resources are not translating into social well-being. The 2022 Multidimensional Poverty Index had already warned that 63 per cent of Nigerians (133 million people) were poor. Today, that figure has worsened. The geographical inequality is glaring: 91 per cent of Sokoto’s residents live in poverty compared to 27 per cent in Ondo. This unevenness threatens the very foundation of national cohesion.

Sustainability, in its truest sense, is about balance between growth and equity, present gains and future resilience. Nigeria’s model has been one-sided: chasing fiscal stability without social safety nets. The government’s ongoing reforms while necessary remain incomplete without deliberate investment in people-centered development. Removing subsidies without cushioning mechanisms for the vulnerable is not reform; it is redistribution of pain.

To his credit, President Tinubu’s team has taken bold steps to end the era of wasteful fuel subsidies and unify exchange rates. But as the World Bank rightly noted, these are only the first steps. The real test lies in whether the resulting fiscal savings are transparently redirected toward education, healthcare, agriculture, and infrastructure, the four pillars of sustainable national recovery.

A responsible sustainability agenda for Nigeria must therefore rest on three imperatives.

First, strengthen social protection systems. Conditional cash transfers, school feeding programmes, and targeted agricultural support are not luxuries, they are necessities in a country where the majority live below subsistence.

Second, prioritise food security and value chain development. Nigeria’s agricultural sector employs 35 per cent of its workforce, yet contributes little to exports due to low productivity, poor storage, and inadequate transport infrastructure. A sustainable food system requires investment in mechanisation, extension services, and green logistics that reduce waste and costs.

Third, embed corporate accountability in national development. Businesses operating in Nigeria must rethink CSR not as charity but as social investment. The private sector especially banks, telcos, and manufacturers should partner with government to expand access to clean energy, vocational education, and healthcare in underserved communities. When corporations align profitability with social impact, they help build the very markets they depend on.

The World Bank’s call for Nigeria to strengthen its public financial management systems and ensure that “every naira spent delivers measurable development impact” is more than fiscal advice, it is a moral challenge. Corruption, inefficiency, and policy inconsistency remain the biggest threats to Nigeria’s sustainability journey. Without transparency and accountability, even the noblest reforms will evaporate into rhetoric.

Yes indeed! Poverty in Nigeria is not just an economic statistic. It is a reflection of broken systems, unfulfilled promises, and a widening trust deficit between the governed and the government. Real reform begins when policies move beyond PowerPoint slides and reach the dinner tables of ordinary Nigerians.