NEC, Non-Oil Dreams And The Hard Work Nobody Likes

By the time the National Economic Council wrapped up its first meeting of 2026, the headline writers had their hook ready: oil is fading, non-oil is the future, Nigeria is turning a corner. Fair enough. But behind the applause lines and policy phrases sits an old Nigerian problem we refuse to confront honestly—execution, ownership, and the politics of shared pain.

The NEC meeting, chaired by Vice President Kashim Shettima, was marked by high ambition. Oil is volatile. The world is uncertain. Nigeria must move. All correct. Nobody arguing that point in 2026 still deserves a seat at the table. The real issue is not the direction; it’s the discipline to stay the course when the pain bites and the cameras move elsewhere.

We’ve heard the oil-exit talk before. Many times. During boom years, it sounded like wisdom. During the bust years, it became survival talk. What’s different now is not the language. It’s the numbers staring us in the face. Non-oil activities now account for about 96 percent of GDP, according to the NEC briefing, and nearly three-quarters of government revenue. That alone should scare anyone still romanticising crude oil.

Yet, here’s the part we gloss over. If non-oil is already carrying the economy, then why do states still behave like monthly FAAC allocations are manna from heaven? Why do governors still run to Abuja every four weeks as if Lagos, Aba, Nnewi, Onitsha, Kano, Ibadan, and Aba again are not already doing the heavy lifting? That contradiction is the Nigerian story.

Vice President Shettima’s remarks were refreshingly blunt by our usual standards. He warned about volatile commodity markets, shaky capital flows, and oil prices that refuse to respect our budget assumptions. He also admitted that growth, even at 3.9 percent in 2025, is not enough. That honesty matters. A lot. Too many officials treat any positive growth figure like a trophy parade.

Growth that doesn’t dent poverty is political noise. And yes, the economy grew quarter by quarter in 2025. Those numbers are real. But so is population growth at roughly 2.6 percent. Do the subtraction and you see why many Nigerians still feel stuck in the same place, hustling harder for less reward. That’s not pessimism; that’s arithmetic.

Where the NEC deserves credit is in pushing states into the conversation, especially on tax reform. The new tax regime is not popular. It was never going to be. Tax reform anywhere is political dynamite. In Nigeria, it’s even worse because we’ve built a culture where government takes first and explains later—sometimes never.

The NEC is now asking states to buy into tax harmonisation, presumptive taxes for the informal sector, and better-resourced internal revenue services. On paper, it sounds. In practice, it will expose how unserious many sub-national governments are about governance.

Here’s the uncomfortable truth. Many governors like federal allocations because it allows them avoid accountability. When your revenue comes mostly from Abuja, your voters are an afterthought. When your revenue comes from traders, transporters, artisans, and small businesses, you suddenly care about roads, markets, power, and security. Funny how that works.

The call for stronger state buy-in is the most important part of this NEC meeting, and also the part most likely to fail. Because buy-in means sacrifice.

It means states passing tax harmonisation laws instead of playing to local galleries. It means governors explaining to their people why paying taxes is not a punishment but participation. It means ending the lazy habit of creating multiple levies just to squeeze cash from the same tired pockets.

And it means facing resistance—from political allies, traditional power brokers, and even party structures that benefit from chaos.

The NEC also approved a committee to drive the administration’s legacy projects, including the Lagos-Calabar and Sokoto-Badagry highways. Infrastructure matters. Nobody disputes that. Roads create jobs, reduce logistics costs, and connect markets. But Nigeria has a long history of ribbon-cutting enthusiasm and maintenance amnesia.

We love announcing mega projects. We hate finishing them quietly and maintaining them consistently.

The decision to involve governors across all six geopolitical zones is smart politics. Shared ownership reduces sabotage. It also spreads blame if things go wrong. That’s realism, not cynicism.

Still, roads alone won’t save us. If infrastructure were enough, Nigeria would already be an economic miracle. The missing piece has always been productivity—what we make, how we make it, and how competitively we sell it.

That’s where the non-oil conversation gets serious. Competitive manufacturing is not a slogan. It requires power that works, ports that don’t punish exporters, customs processes that don’t feel like a hazing ritual, and regulators who understand that businesses are not enemies of the state.

Export diversification is not about speeches at trade fairs. It’s about standards, quality control, logistics, and consistency. You don’t become an export economy by wishing. You become one by surviving rejection in international markets until you learn the rules.

Private sector investment does not respond to applause. It responds to predictability. The World Bank Group briefing at the NEC meeting touched on something many policymakers still underestimate—human capital. The first 2,000 days of a child’s life. Early cognitive development. Nutrition. Education. This is not charity talk. It’s an economic strategy.

A country where millions of children are stunted today is locking in low productivity tomorrow. No amount of highways will fix that. You can’t pave your way out of human capital failure.

The proposed alignment of state budgets with early-years development is one of those ideas everyone praises publicly and ignores privately. It doesn’t come with shiny photo-ops. It doesn’t win elections easily. But it determines whether Nigeria ever joins the club of serious economies.

Agriculture also featured prominently—again. A $500 million results-based programme sounds impressive. Platforms, accountability, and collaboration with states and the private sector. All the right words. The danger is repetition fatigue. Nigerians have heard agricultural revival promises since groundnut pyramids were still a memory.

What’s different now should be measurement. Results-based funding forces honesty. You don’t get paid for intentions. You get paid for outcomes. That alone can clean up a lot of nonsense.

One part of the NEC discussions that deserves more public debate is fiscal risk management. Oil exposure is not only an economic risk; it’s a political trap. Every oil price shock becomes a national emergency. Every exchange-rate swing turns into panic. Diversifying revenue is not optional anymore. It’s survival.

But survival requires coherence. Policies announced today must still make sense next year. Reforms started in pain must not be abandoned at the first sign of protest. Governments everywhere struggle with this. The Nigerian government struggles more because politics here is short-term and emotional.

Vice President Shettima spoke about coherence, courage, and consistency. That line should be printed and pasted in every government office. Courage is taking unpopular decisions. Consistency is sticking with them. Coherence is making sure ministries, states, and agencies are not working at cross-purposes. We’ve failed at all three before.

The NEC’s decision to hold a special session on food security is welcome. Food inflation hits faster and harder than any macroeconomic statistic. When food prices rise, theory dies. Social stability follows the price of garri, rice, and beans, not policy papers.

Agricultural productivity is not about slogans. It’s about inputs, security on farmlands, storage, transport, and markets. It’s about stopping the cycle where farmers lose crops post-harvest while consumers complain about prices.

Then there’s tax reform again—the elephant that won’t stay quiet. Asking states to support presumptive taxes for the informal sector will trigger outrage if done badly. The informal sector is large because the formal system failed many people. Bringing them into the tax net requires trust. Trust is built with services, not threats.

The NEC is right to push this conversation now. Delay only hardens resistance.

Here’s my worry. Nigeria is good at diagnosing problems. We write excellent communiqués. We hold conferences. We set up committees. Then politics creeps in, courage evaporates, and we settle for half-measures.

The non-oil future Nigeria wants will not arrive through consensus alone. Some interests will lose. Some privileges will shrink. Some shortcuts will close.

That’s where leadership shows.

Oil is exiting whether we like it or not. The question is whether Nigeria will exit lazily, dragged by global forces, or deliberately, with a plan that survives elections and egos. The NEC meeting pointed in the right direction. Direction is cheap. Discipline is expensive.