“Though weeping may endure for a night, joy comes in the morning.”

By Ade Iyamoye

In the face of hardship, it is human to feel overwhelmed, to groan beneath the weight of uncertainty and discomfort.

The long queues at CNG stations, the frustrations of delayed conversions, and the temporary scarcity of infrastructure reflect a nation in transition — a country on the edge of something new, yet caught in the growing pains of progress.

This night of inconvenience is real, but fleeting. The dawn is approaching — and with it, the promise of ease, affordability, and sustainability.

The Presidential CNG Initiative, backed by significant government action and private sector engagement, is not a pipe dream, it is a tangible revolution underway.

New stations are being constructed, Kits are being distributed and Investments are flowing. Change is happening. And soon, Nigerians will no longer have to spend hours in line for gas. Soon, the transport sector will breathe again with renewed affordability.

Soon, the benefits of our natural gas wealth will touch everyday lives.

Until then, patience must be our virtue, and advocacy our voice. Let every Nigerian not only endure, but also encourage, pushing for more stations, more partnerships, and more action from every stakeholder.

The night may seem long, but the morning is near. And it promises joy.

By Oso Abidemi

If you know the wish of out of school children, your heart would break. You would see beyond their bare feet and tired eyes. You would hear beyond their silence and blank stares. You would feel the weight of dreams delayed and destinies derailed. Because what they want — above food, clothes, or even shelter — is a classroom, a pencil, a teacher, and a chance.

According to data from the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation (UNESCO), Nigeria currently accounts for the highest number of out-of-school children in the world, with approximately 20.2 million children not enrolled in formal education as of 2024.

This number has steadily risen from 10.5 million in 2010, and it includes children between the ages of 5 and 18.

The situation is more dire in Northern Nigeria, where insecurity, poverty, and cultural barriers have widened the education gap.

A 2023 report by the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF), revealed that 69 percent of out-of-school children in Nigeria are from the northern region, with girls making up a significant majority due to early marriage, household responsibilities, and socio-religious factors.

In states like Borno, Yobe, and Zamfara, more than 60 percent of school-age children are not attending school.

In the Federal Capital Territory, ironically the seat of power, pockets of communities like Jiwa, Gwagwa, and parts of Bwari remain burdened with high dropout rates due to poverty and lack of nearby public schools.

The 2022 Nigeria Education Data Survey (NEDS), indicates that more than 1 in 4 children in Abuja’s satellite towns have either never attended school or dropped out before completing primary education.

But why are these children out of school?

The reasons are many — poverty, insecurity, gender discrimination, child labour, dilapidated infrastructure, underfunding, and a lack of political will.

In 2024, Nigeria allocated just 7.9 percent of its national budget to education, far below the 15-20 percent recommendation by UNESCO. That means fewer teachers, overcrowded classrooms, unpaid salaries, and inadequate learning materials.

Some families spend as low as N500 to N1,500 per month to keep a child in public school, but even that is unaffordable for many who live on less than $1.90 a day.

In conflict-ridden areas, over 1,500 schools have been destroyed by insurgents, and many more have been shut due to fear of abduction, as seen in the infamous Chibok, Dapchi, and Kankara school kidnappings.

Meanwhile, the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) states that over 39 percent of Nigerian children aged 6–11 do not attend any primary school, and only 35.6 percent of children aged 3–5 attend early childhood education.

At this rate, Nigeria risks raising a generation without the foundational skills needed to survive or contribute meaningfully to national growth.

And yet, every day, these children pray quietly to be given a second chance. They hawk pure water in traffic when they should be learning fractions. They carry bricks at construction sites instead of carrying school bags. Their only offence is being born into a system that continues to fail them.

If you know the wish of out of school children, you would stop passing them by. You would see them as Nigeria’s lost potential — engineers without degrees, doctors without scrubs, teachers without chalk, leaders without platforms. You would realise that every child kept out of school is a ticking time bomb, a vulnerable soul at risk of exploitation, crime, and lifelong poverty.

To fix this, we must act beyond speeches.

The Universal Basic Education Commission (UBEC), state governments, and local councils must work together to enforce the Compulsory, Free Universal Basic Education Act of 2004.

This Act makes basic education (primary and junior secondary) not just free, but compulsory, with fines for non-compliance. Yet, enforcement remains weak and often ignored.

Nigeria must invest aggressively in building schools in underserved areas, especially in rural and conflict-prone zones.

Partnerships with civil society groups, international donors, and faith-based organisations must be scaled.

Conditional cash transfer schemes like the National Social Investment Programme (NSIP), should be expanded to reward poor families for keeping their children in school.

But beyond policy, we need compassion. We need advocacy. We need ordinary Nigerians to care — to sponsor a child’s education, donate books, volunteer in schools, and hold leaders accountable. Every child out of school today is a future adult without tools for survival.

If you know the wish of out of school children, you will not rest until every one of them is given the opportunity to learn, dream, and thrive.

Because no nation can grow when its children are left behind.

By Engr. Ikenna Okonkwo, FNSE, FNIEE, FNIMMME

There is a question that keeps coming up, often in whispers but sometimes loudly enough to stir debate.

Why do some Igbos indulge in such loud displays of wealth whenever they have something to celebrate? Someone recently remarked, “Why all the noise? Are they the only ones with money?”

Interestingly, this question came not from an outsider, but from a fellow Igbo man, addressing his own people.

Barrister Allen Onyema, the esteemed CEO of Air Peace, once said in an interview that our young Igbo men need to exercise restraint.

According to him, there is a worrying trend where, at the slightest financial success, some of our boys throw caution to the wind, flaunting their wealth with reckless abandon.

He warned that this habit of loud celebration, especially over minimal achievements, is counterproductive.

Some, however, argue in defence of the noise. They claim it is part of the business strategy, depending on the nature of the venture. In their view, a bit of spectacle attracts attention, which could be good for business.

But take a closer look at leaders like Onyema himself. No matter how much he earns, his focus remains on growing his airline, acquiring more Boeings and Airbuses, and expanding his fleet.

Every kobo counts, and every gain is reinvested, just as Aliko Dangote continually discovers new ventures and reinvests in his empire.

Dangote understands that if he slips, he could lose his number one spot in Africa, falling to second or even third place.

The same applies to global entrepreneurs like Elon Musk, who relentlessly push to maintain their leadership positions.

This raises an important question: is the so-called noise entirely negative? Are there businesses where a bit of noise is, in fact, beneficial?

After all, in industries like entertainment, showmanship is almost a requirement.

Yet, when taken too far, this culture of excessive display can become a breeding ground for unhealthy competition and, worse, can attract young people into fraudulent lifestyles, such as the infamous Yahoo Yahoo and Yahoo Plus.

What started as harmless celebration has, in some cases, evolved into a dangerous trend.

The pressure to “belong” forces many young men to chase quick wealth by any means, leading to moral decay and societal challenges.

Perhaps the balance lies somewhere in between. Celebrate your success, yes, but remember to stay grounded. Build wealth with purpose. Reinvest.

Grow sustainably. And above all, understand that true success is not measured by the noise you make but by the legacy you leave behind.