What the IMF’s 2026 Nigeria report says about us — and what it would take to make the patient actually feel it
Picture a man who has just left his cardiologist. Blood pressure down, cholesterol down, the arrhythmia that nearly killed him three years ago stabilised by months of disciplined treatment. The doctor is pleased.
He walks out and still feels terrible. His chest is tight. He is exhausted by the time he climbs the stairs. He cannot understand how the chart says he is recovering when his body insists otherwise.
This is, more or less, the conversation Nigeria has just had with the IMF.
What the Chart Says
On June 1, the Fund’s Executive Board concluded its 2026 Article IV consultation — the annual physical every member country submits to — and the chart looks genuinely good. Strong reforms over the past three years have built real macroeconomic resilience, in the Fund’s own language. The currency, after the trauma of unification, has found something closer to a stable footing. External reserves have risen from $40 billion at the end of 2024 to more than $50 billion today, giving the Central Bank significantly more room to manoeuvre than it had only a few years ago. The banking sector is undergoing recapitalisation and most institutions are on track to meet the new requirements. Growth is humming along respectably — 4 percent in 2025, with a projected 4.1 percent this year, ahead of the global average.
Read only the vital signs and you would conclude Nigeria has done the hard, unglamorous work of getting well.
In a narrow sense, it has.
I do not say that performatively. I have sat in rooms where these numbers were the difference between a federation that could pay salaries and one that could not. They matter. They are not theatre.
What the Patient Feels
But the same report, in the very next breath, says something that should stop the celebration mid-sentence: conditions for many Nigerians remain difficult.
Not “some.” Many.
Then come the numbers that explain why the man on the stairs still cannot breathe properly. Sixty-three percent of Nigerians now fall below the national poverty line. Twenty-seven million faced food insecurity last autumn. Inflation, which had been falling for the better part of a year — a trend every commentator, myself included, had begun to treat as settled — turned and rose again in March, back to 15.4 percent, driven in part by renewed global food and fuel price pressures.
This is the gap the chart cannot show: the difference between an economy whose instruments read “stable” and a household whose weekly shopping basket reads “impossible.”
Both are true at once.
That is not a contradiction. It is two patients examined with two different instruments — one a blood-pressure cuff, the other a scale the family checks every time it returns from the market.
Why the Same Shock Cuts Both Ways
Here is the part of the report that deserves more attention than it has received, because it explains why the next six months may widen this gap rather than close it.
The Fund notes that higher global fuel, food and fertiliser prices will improve Nigeria’s exports and fiscal revenues while, in the same breath, aggravating the poverty and food insecurity already described.
Read that twice.
The identical global event — the conflict in the Middle East and the commodity-price shock associated with it — fattens the federal purse and empties the household plate through entirely different channels. There is no rough justice here, no automatic mechanism by which the gain to government filters down to compensate the family paying more for garri.
I wrote a few months ago about the village arithmetic of this war — the fertiliser bought this month determining the harvest brought in by November, with no second chance. The IMF report is the same arithmetic scaled to the nation: the oil windfall the Federation Account registers as good news is, structurally, the same event as the price spike a mother registers at the market stall as bad news.
Both entries are correct.
Neither is the whole truth without the other.
What Treating the Patient Would Actually Look Like
A doctor who tells a patient, “Your chart looks good, see you next year,” while the patient is doubled over in the waiting room has not finished the consultation.
The honest doctor goes further: what do we do about the pain in the meantime, while the deeper treatment takes hold?
Two priorities, in order of how quickly they could be felt.
First: protect the harvest, not just the headline rate.
The IMF identifies fertiliser and food prices as a key transmission channel through which global shocks are reaching ordinary households. That suggests a policy response focused on agricultural inputs rather than broad-based subsidies.
A temporary, time-bound waiver or subsidy on imported NPK and phosphate inputs — financed directly from the additional oil revenue the same global shock is generating — would not fix Nigeria’s agriculture. But it would mean the windfall reaching Abuja’s accounts this quarter reaches a Kano smallholder’s planting decision this quarter too, rather than sitting in reserves while she rations urea in April.
It follows the same stabilisation principle that underpinned the Excess Crude Account: save windfalls during good periods and deploy them when shocks hit.
Second: make the relief visible, timely and felt where the squeeze actually lands.
It is genuinely hard for a family to feel 4.1 percent growth.
Cash-transfer programmes often look good on paper but can miss those under the greatest pressure. In Nigeria today it is increasingly the urban poor — squeezed by rent, transport and food costs — not only the rural poor.
A targeted transfer delivered through the NIN-linked payment infrastructure developed for recent social-support programmes, timed to the months the IMF identifies as highest risk, would not need to be large to matter. It would need to be timely. It would need to be visible.
The same logic extends to public transport. The daily commute is effectively a tax on the working poor that a single windfall-funded intervention could ease well before any structural solution arrives.
Neither proposal closes the gap overnight.
But a family does not need the whole disease cured to feel less afraid. It needs to see that someone has noticed the specific pain it is in and has done something about it this month — not merely promised the whole body will feel better eventually.
The Doctor’s Other Instructions
To its credit, the Fund’s directors did not stop at diagnosis.
They were specific about what the second phase requires: tackling insecurity, cutting red tape, lifting agricultural productivity, closing the infrastructure gap — electricity chief among them — and increasing health and education spending.
None of this is new.
It is the same structural list I have returned to in piece after piece this year: power, collateral, the dependency ratio, the savings pool.
Macro stability without that work produces exactly the gap this report describes.
A good chart should not remove urgency from the harder work that follows it.
What “Stable” Should Not Be Allowed to Mean
There is a real risk in this moment, and I want to name it plainly.
Stable macroeconomic numbers are easy to announce and satisfying to defend at a press conference. They photograph well.
The danger is not that the government celebrates the chart. The chart deserves some celebration; getting here was neither cheap nor easy.
The danger is mistaking the chart for the whole examination — declaring the patient recovered because the instruments attached to him say so while he is still telling you, in plain language, that he cannot climb the stairs.
“The danger is not that the government celebrates the chart. The danger is mistaking the chart for the whole examination.”
The IMF’s report does not let anyone make that mistake if read in full rather than in headline.
It says the vital signs are improving and the patient is still in pain in the same document, without resolving the tension between the two.
That refusal to resolve it tidily is, I think, the most honest part of the report.
What Comes Next
The next six months will decide whether this gap narrows or widens.
If the conflict in the Middle East persists, the same dynamic will keep operating: fiscal relief flowing into Abuja’s accounts, price pressure flowing into Kano’s, Lagos’s and every market stall in between.
Inflation’s brief retreat may turn out to have been a pause rather than a settled trend. Nigeria’s reserves may continue to climb while the queue for affordable rice grows longer.
None of this is fate.
It is a question of whether the second-phase reforms move with the urgency the first phase did, and whether practical interventions such as those outlined above are attempted this season rather than next.
The currency was stabilised because the alternative was unthinkable.
The household’s plate has not yet been treated with the same urgency because its crisis does not appear on a single chart a Governor can present to a Board.
It shows up instead in twenty-seven million separate places, none of which file a report to Washington.
Kemi Adeosun is a former Minister of Finance of the Federal Republic of Nigeria and former Commissioner for Finance of Ogun State. She is the founder of Nidacity.com and the Dash Me Foundation. She writes from Lagos.
