REFORM TALKS with Enam Obiosio
Whenever conversations about Nigeria’s future begin, I notice that we instinctively turn to oil prices, exchange rates, inflation, public debt, electricity supply or infrastructure. Important as these are, I believe we often overlook the one factor that will ultimately determine whether every economic reform succeeds or fails. That factor is our people, especially our young people.
No country develops by accident. Nations rise because they invest deliberately in human beings. Roads, bridges, airports and power stations certainly matter, but they are only as productive as the people who use them. Without educated, healthy and skilled citizens, physical infrastructure becomes little more than expensive concrete.
That is why I believe discussions about population should never be reduced to counting how many people live within our borders. Population is not merely about numbers. It is about potential. It is about planning. Above all, it is about whether government understands the people it governs well enough to prepare for their future.
The National Population Commission deserves credit for reminding the country of this reality during the 2026 World Population Day activities. Its appeal for stronger media engagement on population issues may appear routine, but I think it raises one of Nigeria’s most neglected national conversations.
Reliable population data are not academic statistics gathered to satisfy researchers. They determine where schools should be built, how many teachers should be recruited, where hospitals should be located, how many vaccines should be procured, and where roads, water systems and electricity projects are most urgently needed.
Whenever data are weak, planning becomes weak. Whenever planning becomes weak, public resources become less effective. Whenever resources are poorly targeted, citizens naturally lose confidence in government. For me, therefore, the debate about population is inseparable from the debate about governance.
Nigeria is one of the youngest countries in the world. According to the National Youth Policy, citizens between the ages of 15 and 29 account for roughly one-third of our population. Many commentators present this as a demographic burden. I disagree.
I see it first as an extraordinary economic opportunity. Every developed economy has, at one point, benefited from what economists describe as the demographic dividend, when a large working-age population produces more than it consumes, expands productivity and drives sustained growth. But demographic dividends do not arrive automatically. Young people do not become productive merely because they are young. Potential alone has never built a prosperous nation. Human capital does.
That is why I agree with the National Population Commission that investment in education, healthcare, skills acquisition, decent employment, gender equality and meaningful youth participation should occupy the centre of national development planning rather than its margins.
Too often, I hear discussions about youth that focus almost entirely on unemployment. Certainly unemployment remains one of Nigeria’s biggest challenges. But I think underemployment deserves equal attention.
A graduate selling products online because formal employment is unavailable may technically be employed, yet the economy is failing to utilise years of acquired knowledge and training. Likewise, a skilled technician without access to finance cannot contribute fully to national productivity. Neither can an entrepreneur operating without electricity, digital infrastructure or affordable credit.
Youth development therefore extends far beyond job creation. It requires creating an ecosystem where talent can flourish. Unfortunately, that ecosystem remains incomplete.
Too many young Nigerians still struggle to access quality education. Healthcare remains uneven. Infrastructure gaps continue to widen opportunities for some communities while narrowing them for others. Insecurity disrupts learning, investment and productive enterprise across many parts of the country.
These challenges do not exist independently. They reinforce one another. Poor education reduces employability. Weak healthcare lowers productivity. Insecurity discourages investment. Limited investment creates fewer jobs. The cycle repeats itself.
Breaking that cycle demands evidence rather than assumptions. That is another reason I believe accurate population data deserve greater public attention. Governments cannot solve problems they do not properly understand. Without dependable demographic information, policymakers are left planning in the dark.
The result is predictable. Schools become overcrowded because enrolment projections were inaccurate. Healthcare facilities become overwhelmed because population growth outpaced planning. Urban centres expand without corresponding infrastructure because migration patterns were poorly understood. Good governance begins with good information.
This is where I believe the media also carries an important responsibility. For too long, population stories have largely appeared only during census debates or World Population Day commemorations. That should change.
Journalists should consistently explain why birth registration matters. They should examine whether population statistics influence budget allocations. They should investigate whether education, healthcare and employment policies actually reflect demographic realities. In my view, journalism should not merely report population figures. It should interpret what those figures mean for ordinary citizens.
The National Population Commission’s call for sustained media enlightenment therefore deserves serious consideration. An informed public is more likely to support evidence-based policymaking than one driven by speculation or misinformation.
I also think discussions about youth must become less paternalistic. Young Nigerians should not simply be viewed as beneficiaries of government programmes. They should increasingly become participants in shaping public policy. A society cannot claim to be preparing its future while excluding those who will live in it the longest.
I recognise that government has introduced programmes aimed at expanding opportunities under the Renewed Hope Agenda. Those efforts are welcome. But every administration should also understand that young people evaluate policies less by official announcements than by practical outcomes.
Can they find quality education? Can they obtain meaningful employment? Can they build businesses? Can they raise families with dignity? Can they believe tomorrow will be better than today? Those questions ultimately determine public confidence.
As I reflect on Nigeria’s future, I become increasingly convinced that our greatest development challenge is not the size of our population. It is whether we possess the courage and discipline to invest consistently in that population.
Countries that transformed themselves economically did not wait until they became wealthy before investing in people. They became wealthy because they invested in people.
Nigeria possesses one of the youngest populations on earth. That fact alone will neither guarantee prosperity nor condemn us to failure. It simply presents a choice. We can continue treating our youthful population as a statistic discussed during international observances, or we can finally recognise it as the country’s greatest strategic asset.
If I were asked where Nigeria’s future truly lies, I would not point first to oil wells, mineral deposits or government budgets. I would point to classrooms filled with curious children, hospitals that keep mothers and infants alive, vocational centres where skills become livelihoods, entrepreneurs transforming ideas into businesses, and reliable data guiding wise public decisions.
That is where national wealth begins. Everything else follows.
