There’s a huge gain by that devaluation. What did you do with the gain? When there’s a deficit you shout and go borrowing, but when there’s a surplus no one gives account. Because there’s more than a hundred percent gain, what are you doing with the gain?

That question should sit like a stone in the conscience of every economic manager in this country. It should echo through the corridors of the Central Bank, bounce off the walls of the Ministry of Finance and disturb the comfort of every official who signs off on the nation’s books. For too long, Nigeria has mastered the art of crying broke while feasting quietly on its hidden surpluses.
We were told that naira devaluation was painful but necessary. We were urged to be patient, that it was the price of reform and that the pain would birth stability. But if the naira now trades at triple its previous rate, every dollar Nigeria earns brings in three times more naira. That means the government’s revenue in local currency grew instantly. The same barrel of oil that brought in around 400 naira to a dollar before now fetches more than 1200. That is not a loss. It is a gain, a huge one. So where did it go?
If we calculate honestly, the Central Bank and the federal purse are swimming in naira windfalls. The government is earning more than it projected, not less. The numbers tell the story. In 2023 alone, after the subsidy removal and naira unification, the federal government reportedly saved over 3.6 trillion naira in six months. Yet Nigerians have seen no new hospitals, no improved education, no real infrastructure projects, no reduction in poverty. The question keeps knocking,what did you do with the gain?
When there is a deficit, officials make noise. They call press conferences and summon pity. They paint dramatic pictures of an empty treasury and plead for understanding as they run to the IMF or the World Bank to borrow more. But when there is a surplus, everyone goes quiet. The noise stops. No breakdown is given. No report is shared. The figures disappear into the same dark tunnel that swallows hope in this country.
We have built a system where accountability only exists in debt. A country that keeps a loud record of what it owes but never of what it earns. When oil prices rise, when the exchange rate increases revenue, when subsidy payments stop, there should be joy and transparency. But Nigeria celebrates nothing. The only people who smile are those who handle the gains. For the rest of the nation, the reality is harsher prices, costlier living and leaders who speak in riddles.
It is painful because this pattern has lasted for decades. When oil sold above one hundred dollars a barrel years ago, we saw no transformation. When the Excess Crude Account overflowed, no trace of it reached the poor. When subsidy was declared unsustainable and removed, the savings vanished into vague plans and committees. Each time, the story repeats itself. Leaders explain why we must endure pain but never explain what they did with the gains that came from that pain.
The truth is that Nigeria is not broke. Nigeria is bleeding from unaccounted surpluses. We are not suffering from a lack of money but from the disappearance of money that should have been seen, touched and felt in the lives of ordinary citizens. The problem is not scarcity. It is secrecy.
You cannot keep feeding citizens with excuses while you dine on their gains. You cannot ask people to be patient when the fruits of their patience are hidden behind government walls. Accountability is not an act of charity. It is the very soul of democracy. Any government that hides its surpluses while advertising its deficits has already betrayed the people.
Where did the gain go? That question must be asked again and again until an answer comes. It should ring through every National Assembly session, through every budget defense and every economic briefing. Because this time, the silence is too loud. We cannot keep living in a country where the poor are asked to tighten their belts while the rich loosen theirs with the spoils of reform.
If devaluation brought hardship, it should at least have brought visible progress. The billions saved from subsidy should have rebuilt hospitals and schools. It should have restored dignity to public service. It should have lifted the weight off the necks of traders and farmers. But instead, people are struggling harder, and the government is richer. There is no justification for this gap.
We can no longer pretend not to know the truth. Nigeria does not have a revenue problem. It has a trust problem. It has a leadership problem. It has a silence problem. And until the nation begins to demand the same level of energy for accounting for gains as it does for lamenting deficits, we will remain stuck in this endless loop of poverty amidst plenty.
Where did the gain go? That question should haunt every table where our national accounts are discussed. Because until those who manage our gains are made to answer as loudly as those who cry about our deficits, Nigeria will continue to be a rich country pretending to be poor. And the people will keep paying for the silence after every surplus.
The post Where did the gain go? The silence after surplus, by Stephanie Shaakaa appeared first on Vanguard News.
