In recent weeks, First Lady Oluremi Tinubu has twice found herself at the centre of national conversations on poverty and economic hardship. The first came when she encouraged Nigerian women to embrace small-scale businesses such as selling akara, kuli-kuli and similar local products as a pathway to economic empowerment.
Days later, she appealed to some of Nigeria’s biggest music stars, including Davido, Wizkid and Burna Boy, urging them to use their wealth and influence to support struggling Nigerians through charitable foundations.
Both statements may have been made with good intentions. They reflect a belief in community support, entrepreneurship and philanthropy as tools for easing hardship. However, they have also exposed a widening disconnect between what many Nigerians, especially the youth, are experiencing and the kind of responses they believe the moment demands.
Nigeria is home to one of the youngest populations in the world. Millions of graduates leave universities every year only to face an economy with limited employment opportunities. Inflation continues to erode purchasing power, food prices remain high, businesses struggle with rising operating costs, and many young entrepreneurs battle poor infrastructure, unstable electricity and limited access to affordable financing.
Against this backdrop, suggestions that women should sell akara or kuli-kuli, while not inherently wrong, have been interpreted by many as reducing a much larger economic crisis to individual survival strategies.
There is dignity in honest labour, and countless Nigerians have built respectable livelihoods from small businesses. Yet many citizens argue that the issue is no longer about whether people are willing to work, but whether the economic environment allows their hard work to translate into meaningful prosperity, while others question if all the years of sacrifices in the university should be paid with kuli kuli or akara businesses. Should a person that studied engineering use their degree to fry akara and kuli-kuli?
The appeal to celebrities has generated a similar debate. There is no doubt that many Nigerian entertainers have contributed to charitable causes over the years, often quietly. Asking successful individuals to give back is neither unusual nor unreasonable. Across the world, philanthropy complements government efforts in education, healthcare, disaster relief and poverty alleviation.
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The concern, however, is whether public appeals to wealthy entertainers risk shifting attention away from the primary responsibility of government. Charity can provide temporary relief, but it cannot replace sustainable economic policies, quality public services, job creation or institutional reforms. A nation’s fight against poverty cannot depend on the goodwill of celebrities, no matter how generous they may be.
Young people are looking beyond survival. They want opportunities to innovate, build businesses that can scale beyond roadside trading, secure decent jobs, access affordable education and healthcare, and compete in an economy that rewards talent and effort.
This does not diminish the importance of entrepreneurship. Small businesses remain the backbone of many economies, and encouraging enterprise is essential. But entrepreneurship thrives best where there is reliable electricity, access to finance, good roads, stable policies and a market where consumers have purchasing power. Without these foundations, even the most determined entrepreneur faces an uphill battle.
Nigerian youths are asking for more than encouragement; they are asking for an environment where ambition is rewarded and success is achievable without extraordinary struggle.
Ultimately, the question is not about whether selling akara is respectable or whether celebrities should help the poor. Both ideas have merit. The real question is whether these are the responses Nigerians need at a time when millions are grappling with the realities of unemployment, inflation and declining living standards.
Hope is important, but hope is sustained by opportunity. While resilience has long defined the Nigerian spirit, resilience alone cannot build an economy. The youth are not rejecting hard work; they are calling for policies that make hard work worthwhile. Until those conditions exist, many will continue to see survival advice as an inadequate answer to problems that require bold, systemic solutions.
