President Bola Tinubu’s decision to take his annual leave in the United Kingdom has raised questions about transparency, priorities, and leadership. On Wednesday, it was announced by Bayo Onanuga, the Special Adviser on Information and Strategy, that the president had left Abuja for the UK, where he is set to spend two weeks on vacation. According to Onanuga, Tinubu would be using this time for a “working vacation” and retreat to reflect on his administration’s economic reforms.

However, many Nigerians are left wondering why the president chose to spend his leave abroad rather than in Nigeria. If Tinubu has nothing to hide and is genuinely focused on the well-being of the nation, he could have opted to stay within the country, setting a positive example. Leaders of other countries, even with their hectic schedules, often remain within their borders during their time off, sending a message of solidarity and commitment to their people.

Just recently, the nation spent N5.095 billion on a new presidential yacht for President Tinubu’s leisure. This raises the question: why does the president feel the need to travel outside the country to enjoy his vacation when such luxurious amenities are available at home?

This latest trip adds to the president’s growing list of foreign travels, which has become a point of concern for many citizens. In just over a year since his swearing-in, President Tinubu has been out of the country several times, often sparking debates about his priorities and the state of governance back home. While there’s nothing inherently wrong with taking a break, particularly in a high-pressure role like the presidency, many argue that Tinubu’s absence is poorly timed.

Nigeria is currently facing one of its most challenging economic periods in recent history. Soaring inflation, fuel subsidy removal, rising unemployment, and the devaluation of the naira have left many Nigerians struggling to make ends meet. It is in this climate of hardship that President Tinubu’s decision to take his leave abroad seems especially insensitive.

If President Tinubu genuinely meant well for the nation and had nothing to hide, he could have chosen to spend his vacation in Nigeria, much like leaders in other countries do. Take, for instance, US President Joe Biden, who opted for a six-day vacation at Camp David, a location within his own country. Nigeria boasts stunning and serene locations like the Obudu Mountain Resort in Cross River State and the Mambilla Plateau in Taraba State—places that are more than adequate for a presidential retreat.

The question remains: If Tinubu truly meant well and was focused on his administration’s success, why not take his leave in Nigeria, closer to the people he governs? Opting for a local retreat could have provided an opportunity to connect more deeply with the country’s issues and show the public that he is ready to face the challenges head-on, just as leaders in other countries often do.

As President Tinubu continues to face criticism over his frequent trips abroad, this latest departure for the UK only intensifies the perception that his priorities may not be aligned with the pressing concerns of the Nigerian populace.

Abuja, Nigeria’s capital city, once celebrated for its meticulous planning and aesthetic beauty, is fast becoming a shadow of its former self. Once renowned for its smooth traffic, serene environment, and impressive infrastructure, the city is now groaning under the weight of rapid population growth, overcrowding, and deteriorating infrastructure. This has sparked fears that Abuja may soon mirror the chaotic conditions of Nigeria’s commercial hub, Lagos.

Just over a decade ago, Abuja’s landscape was a sprawling expanse of savannah, punctuated by rolling hills and well-maintained, empty roads. The city, designed to serve as a modern, well-planned capital, was meant to offer respite from the congestion and disorganization that characterized Lagos. But in recent years, those same once-empty roads have become a nightmare for motorists, often choked with traffic that seems entirely out of sync with the city’s original design.

Abuja has three major entry routes—Airport Road, Kubwa Road, and Keffi Road. During peak hours, these routes are plagued by heavy traffic, with gridlock especially severe in the mornings and evenings. The growing congestion has raised alarm bells among residents and urban planners alike, many of whom are beginning to wonder whether Abuja is losing its carefully curated charm.

A Tale of Two Cities: Will Abuja Follow Lagos’s Path?

Lagos, Nigeria’s most developed city since the 19th century, was the nation’s capital from 1914 to 1990. It underwent significant infrastructural development during the oil boom of the 1970s, but over time, continuous immigration from various parts of Nigeria and neighboring West African countries put immense pressure on the city’s resources. The result? Lagos, once a shining symbol of Nigeria’s modernization, became synonymous with overcrowding, traffic jams, and deteriorating public services.

Could the same fate be awaiting Abuja? With its growing population—swelled further by economic migrants and government officials—the capital is increasingly mirroring the very problems it was built to avoid. Traffic jams in key areas such as Garki, Wuse, and Maitama have become commonplace, as the city’s infrastructure struggles to keep up with the pace of urbanization.

The President’s Legacy: Lagosians Flocking to Abuja

Another factor contributing to Abuja’s current woes is the influx of individuals who worked closely with President Bola Tinubu during his tenure as Governor of Lagos. Now that Tinubu holds the highest office in the land, many of his former associates and political allies have moved to Abuja, adding to the city’s swelling population.

This migration is not only symbolic of the deep connection between Lagos and Abuja but also contributes to the overcrowding and strain on public resources. Despite Abuja’s larger landmass compared to Lagos, its urban planning is being tested as it accommodates an ever-growing population.

The Infrastructure Strain: Can Abuja Reclaim Its Glory?

Despite its challenges, Abuja still has a significantly larger land area than Lagos, offering more room for expansion and potential solutions to its current woes. However, the question remains: can the city’s urban planning keep pace with its population growth, or will Abuja succumb to the same pressures that turned Lagos into a chaotic metropolis?

Urban planners, residents, and policymakers are increasingly concerned that without swift action, Abuja could lose the very attributes that once set it apart from other Nigerian cities. A city that was once the epitome of organization, cleanliness, and functionality now faces overcrowded roads, strained public services, and an overall decline in quality of life.

The Future: Navigating the Path Ahead

To address these issues, comprehensive strategies must be implemented to ensure that Abuja can reclaim its reputation as a well-planned capital city. Urban expansion must be carefully managed, infrastructure investments prioritized, and public transportation systems revamped to reduce reliance on private vehicles. Additionally, policies that encourage sustainable growth and protect the city’s environment must be enforced.

Moreover, the influx of people from Lagos and other parts of Nigeria needs to be balanced with a focus on decentralizing economic opportunities across the country, reducing the need for so many individuals to migrate to the capital.

As Abuja grapples with its growing pains, the question of whether it can maintain its unique identity or fall into the same traps as Lagos looms large. Only time will tell whether the city can rise above these challenges or become a symbol of unfulfilled promise.

Will Abuja reclaim its status as a model for urban planning in Africa, or will it succumb to the chaos that has engulfed Lagos? The answer lies in the city’s ability to adapt, innovate, and plan for the future.

Religion in Nigeria is frequently described as a beacon of hope, a source of comfort for millions fighting the nation’s rampant socioeconomic problems. Every Friday and Sunday, believers flock to various places of worship to express their admiration for or requests from a Higher Being known as God, Allah, or whatever name S/He may be (or choose to be).

However, in recent years, an alarming trend has emerged that is raising eyebrows across the nation: the rise of irrational behavior and outright foolishness, cloaked in religious fervor. This phenomenon is not limited to the impoverished or uneducated; it has permeated all levels of society, with even highly educated adults falling prey to questionable practices under the guise of religious devotion. This is no longer a virus but an epidemic!

There seem to be a recent addition to this trend: “I’m a Chosen”. This has become a common proclamation among adherents of the Lazarus Muoka-led Lord’s Chosen Charismatic Revival Ministries, a Pentecostal sect based in Ijesha, a Lagos suburb with substantial branches across Nigeria. While the phrase may seem innocuous on the surface, it has become symbolic of a deeper issue—the increasing trend of adults abandoning rational thinking in favor of blind allegiance to religious doctrines, sometimes to the point of absurdity.

Religious devotion is nothing new in Nigeria. With Christianity and Islam as the dominant faiths, religion plays a central role in the lives of millions. But the recent surge in unquestioning faith, particularly within Pentecostal churches, is eroding critical thinking and rational decision-making. Many Nigerians are now more inclined to attribute every aspect of their lives—whether success or failure, health or sickness—to divine intervention, rather than considering logical explanations or personal accountability as the “testimonies” stamped with “I’m a Chosen” have shown.

In 2016, I wrote the article “This Rampaging Dis-Ease Called Religion!” against the backdrop of the rampaging madness displayed, manifested by some devotees of Abrahamic religions in Nigeria. I wrote against blind faith, suspension of reason, and growing religious fanaticism. As things were then, they still are now. Rather tragic!

For example, members of the Lord’s Chosen movement are often seen wearing neon green aprons emblazoned with the words “I’m a Chosen,” and engaging in practices that range from shouting incantations in public places to refusing medical treatment in favor of prayers. While religious freedom is a constitutional right, the extent to which adults are surrendering their reasoning abilities in favor of religious dogma is rather disturbing.

Religious leaders, many of whom wield significant influence, preach doctrines that discourage questioning or independent thought. In fact, questioning the teachings of religious leaders is often equated with blasphemy or a lack of faith. This attitude has created a culture where blind obedience is glorified, and critical thinking is dismissed as rebellion against divine authority.

For example, how could an adult who has practically lived a full lifetime believe that simply declaring “I’m a Chosen,” she can defeat three able-bodied armed robbers (carrying Russian-made AK47 rifles) unscathed or injured? The same AK47 rifles used in the independence struggles of various African and Latin American countries, including Mozambique, Zimbabwe, and Angola. The struggle against the Apartheid state in South Africa had little meaning until AK47 rifles shifted the balance in favor of ANC rebels. A woman in her late 60s “collected” these AK47 rifles from three young, armed guys by just declaring “I’m a Chosen” three times. Even though we were once taught by Jamie Uys’ 1980 comedy film that THE GODS MUST BE CRAZY, must we all continue to grow mad? Shall we continue to be mad for grace to abound? God forbid!

Another worrying trend is the use of religion as a shield against intellectual progress and scientific reasoning. In a country where health issues like malaria, typhoid, and maternal mortality are still rampant, some Nigerians have turned to faith healing and prayer camps instead of seeking medical treatment. This approach has cost lives, but for many, it’s seen as a test of faith.

Adults who should be leading the way in advocating for better healthcare and education are instead urging others to rely on divine intervention. Universities and other centers of learning have not been spared either, as some students refuse to engage with science, reasoning, or evidence-based research, claiming that “God will provide all the answers.”

The workplace is another area where this religious influence is causing friction. Employees who spend hours in prayer sessions instead of focusing on their work or skill development are hindering productivity and competitiveness. Furthermore, the belief that success or promotion is tied to divine favor rather than meritocracy is fostering an unhealthy work culture that rewards faith over competence.

Nigeria, a nation with enormous potential, cannot afford to be led by people who prioritize superstition over sound policy, prayer over planning, and divine intervention over hard work. The country’s future depends on its ability to embrace rationality, education, and innovation—qualities that are often undermined by blind religious devotion.

Faith, in and of itself, is not the problem. Religion can provide comfort, guidance, and a sense of purpose. But when adults abandon reason and allow religion to dictate every aspect of their lives, society as a whole suffers. There is an urgent need for balance—where faith coexists with logic, critical thinking, and personal responsibility.

Nigerians must begin to ask hard questions of their religious leaders and themselves. Are they truly building a better future through blind faith, or are they allowing themselves to be exploited by those who benefit from their ignorance? The time has come for Nigerians to reclaim their intellect, and to demand a future where religion serves as a moral guide, not a tool for manipulation.