WHO would have thought that a simple tax report would shatter one of Nigeria’s most enduring prejudices? Yet here we are, staring at figures that tell a story quite different from the usual narratives peddled in beer parlors and social media echo chambers.
For decades, we’ve lived with tired stereotypes: the Hausa gateman in every Nollywood movie, the Calabar domestic help, and most persistently, the notion that the North is somehow a parasitic region feeding off the South’s prosperity. Trust Nigerians to cling to these prejudices with the tenacity of a tick on a dog’s ear.
Let’s even talk about our entertainment industry’s role in perpetuating these stereotypes. Watch any Nigerian movie, and you’d think every security guard in Lagos came from Kano, and every domestic worker has roots in Cross River. It’s lazy storytelling that’s shaped public perception for generations.
But let’s look at the cold, hard numbers from the recent VAT distribution report. Only three states – Lagos, Rivers, and Oyo – are pulling their weight in terms of revenue generation. Just three out of thirty-six states. Where’s the North-South divide in that equation? The data exposes an uncomfortable truth: underperformance isn’t a regional monopoly.
Lagos State’s contribution of N2.75 trillion to the VAT pool in 2024 is impressive – that’s nearly half the national total. But guess what?the state only got N460 billion back. Rivers State follows a similar pattern – contributing N832 billion but receiving just N186.6 billion in return. These figures tell us something important, but not what the stereotype-merchants would have us believe.
During the recent tax reforms debate, social media warriors were quick to brand the North as parasitic for opposing the bill. But how many of these keyboard critics actually read the bill? How many understood the implications beyond their regional biases? This is the problem with stereotypes – they prevent us from engaging in substantive discussions about real issues.
The real story isn’t about North versus South. It’s about our collective failure to generate wealth at the state level. We’ve created a nation of dependent states, both North and South, all waiting for their monthly allocation like salary earners at a bank counter. Our federation has become a feeding bottle democracy where most states survive on the milk of federal allocations.
Come to think of it, which state in Nigeria can truly claim to be resource-poor? Is it Zamfara with its gold deposits? Plateau with its solid minerals? Or maybe Niger with its agricultural potential? The truth is, every state in this country is sitting on a gold mine – literal or metaphorical. The problem isn’t resources; it’s resourcefulness.
Our governors need to start thinking like CEOs instead of glorified allocation collectors. But here’s where it gets interesting – how many Nigerians can name three policies their state governor implemented in the last year? We’re all experts on federal government failures, but somehow state governors get a free pass.
The average Nigerian can write a thesis on why the president is failing but can’t tell you their state’s internally generated revenue target. We organise Twitter spaces to dissect every presidential sneeze but ignore state-level policies that directly affect our daily lives. The irony is that while we’re busy fighting imaginary regional wars on social media, our state governors are united in their mediocrity.
This selective outrage is part of the problem. While we’re busy perpetuating stereotypes and fighting imaginary regional wars, our state governors are getting away with mediocrity. The VAT figures should be a wake-up call – not to fuel more division, but to demand better governance at the state level.
Think about it – if every state governor was held to the same standard of scrutiny we apply to the federal government, would we still be having this conversation about “parasitic” states? I doubt it. The real parasites aren’t regions or ethnic groups; they’re the politicians who’ve mastered the art of doing nothing while collecting federal allocations.
The solution isn’t in pointing fingers at regions or ethnic groups. It’s in demanding that every governor transforms from a monthly allocation administrator to a chief executive officer of their state. It’s about creating enabling environments for businesses to thrive, implementing proper tax systems, and developing state-specific economic policies.
Until we start holding our governors accountable and stop hiding behind convenient stereotypes, we’ll keep recycling the same tired narratives while our states remain underperforming entities in a federation of missed opportunities.
We need to start asking tough questions: What’s your state’s economic blueprint? What’s the plan for increasing internally generated revenue? How are you attracting investments?
The VAT numbers have shown us the truth – mediocrity knows no ethnic or regional boundaries. It’s time we faced this reality and demanded better from all levels of government, not just the center. Because at the end of the day, no president, no matter how competent, can single-handedly transform 36 underperforming states into economic powerhouses.
As for those enduring stereotypes? Well, they say old habits die hard. But maybe, just maybe, these VAT figures will make us think twice before making sweeping generalisations about any region or ethnic group. Though knowing Nigerians, I won’t hold my breath. After all, we’re a people who’d rather cling to comfortable prejudices than face uncomfortable truths.
The next time someone starts spinning tales about parasitic regions, show them the VAT figures. Sometimes, numbers speak louder than prejudices. But then again, in Nigeria, even facts have a hard time competing with firmly held biases.
- Nda-Isaiah is a political analyst based in Abuja and can be reached on jonesdryx@gmail.com. His syndicated column appears on News Point Nigeria newspaper on Saturdays.