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Happy Independence Day, Nigeria

Happy Independence Day, Nigeria
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“Happy Independence Day, Nigeria.”

And just like that, the annual performance begins.
You suppose even add cake join the celebration. In fact, leave that one first. How much is national cake now? Before everybody go dey shout for Twitter.
Every October 1, your koròkpọn don stand. Green, white, green everywhere. Flags on cars. WhatsApp statuses. Instagram stories.

“Happy Independence Day, my beloved country.”

Una don post pictures of heroes past and national anthem captions tire. Nnamdi Azikiwe and Tafawa Balewa joined the chat.
Another person go still write:

“Despite everything, Nigeria will be great.”

Abeg.
“Despite everything.”
We suppose don compose another national anthem and add that “Despite everything” join.
It’s already become a pattern. Every year, we celebrate a country we HOPE we have rather than the country we actually live in. I know some of us don’t want to talk politics today. We just want to celebrate.

“Guy, today no be the day for politics.”

Fair enough.
But what exactly do you think independence is?
A public holiday?
 Because that is seriously how we always seem to treat it: a free day.
A WhatsApp status?
“I too love my country.”
A day where we temporarily forget how this same Nigeria is taking our 10s, 20s, 30s—basically, all our Ts.
Adulthood is ridiculously expensive.
So I decided to look at where we were around this time last year and where we are now.
Maybe things are actually getting better. 
Maybe the situation is not as bad as we make it seem.
No be vibes I wan talk for here.
Numbers. Figures.
One year later, and we’re still talking about fuel.
In October 2025, the national average retail price of petrol was about ₦1,052 per litre.
By May 2026, the National Bureau of Statistics recorded an average of ₦1,596.25 per litre—an increase of about 51.7%.  
By September, petrol was being sold around ₦1,400–₦1,450 per litre in Lagos and Abuja, with prices reaching about ₦1,500 in parts of the North.
So yes, technically, we have a refinery operating at home.
TECHNICALLY.
Because apparently having a refinery doesn’t automatically mean your fuel pump develops patriotism.
We have crude oil.
We have refineries.
We have Dangote Refinery.
We have NNPC.
We have explanations.
Yet somehow, a Nigerian at the filling station can still stand there staring at the pump like:

“Oga, you sure say this thing dey measure?”

But inflation dey go down na?!
Yes. And this is where the numbers become interesting.
Nigeria’s headline inflation was 16.05% in October 2025.
By August 2026, it had fallen to 15.39%.
Food inflation also fell from 25.30% in August 2025 to 19.57% in August 2026.
So, yes, the rate at which prices are increasing has slowed.

Wonderful. Marvelous.

Okay, let’s be real.
Slowing inflation does not mean prices have returned to where they were.
The CPI—the Consumer Price Index, which tracks changes in the prices of goods and services consumed by households—stood at 128.9 in October 2025.
By August 2026, it had risen to 146.3.
That’s roughly a 13.5% increase in the CPI level over that period.
And before somebody starts shouting, “But inflation is down!”
Yes. We know.
That is literally the point.
Things are becoming expensive more slowly. They are still very much expensive.
We’ve basically entered the era of:

“I am not beating you as frequently as I used to.”

The beating being the rising cost of almost everything. And the fact that the beating is happening less frequently doesn’t mean the beating has stopped.
Food sef don join the chat.
In October 2025, the NBS recorded the national average price of 1kg of brown beans at about ₦1,760.53, local rice at ₦1,913.78, white garri at ₦846.69, and beef at ₦6,850.51.
A year later, even asking for the price of beans can make you pause.
Beans has left the category of ordinary foodstuffs and joined cryptocurrency.
You don’t buy beans anymore.
You invest in beans.
One day my mama go ask me:
“Fortune, abeg go buy beans.”
And I’ll calmly ask:

“How many units, ma?”

It’ll be that serious.
There is also the part we don’t put on the Independence Day graphic.
To be fair, there are economic indicators pointing in a better direction.
The World Bank has noted improvements in Nigeria’s macroeconomic stability, including easing inflation, stronger external and fiscal positions, and continued economic growth.
But that doesn’t automatically translate into less financial pressure for households.
Household incomes have not fully recovered, and poverty remains high.
Both truths can coexist: The economy can be stabilising and Nigerians go still dey suffer.
This is the annoying thing about statistics.
It doesn’t always care about your argument.
The real question this Independence Day isn’t:
“Is Nigeria doing better?”
It is:

“Better for who?”

Our GDP is growing, but the average Nigerian is still debating taking a  kekenapep or mounting their   leggedis for two streets, before taking a bus.
If inflation is slowing but the price of almost everything remains painfully high…
If fuel prices can jump hundreds of naira within months…
If the national minimum wage is ₦70,000 while the cost of surviving on ₦70,000 is practically a separate national emergency…
Then perhaps we should stop confusing economic recovery with economic relief. They are not the same thing. And this is where the celebration begins to feel a little complicated.
We’ve somehow turned patriotism into the requirement to pretend everything is fine.
You say government no good?

“Walahi, you hate Nigeria.”

You complain about fuel?

“Stop spreading negativity.”

Oya, food don cost?

“Things are hard everywhere too.”

You ask for accountability?

“Why you dey bring this kind talk on Independence Day?”

What exactly are we supposed to do?
Shine teeth?
Wave flag emojis?
Sing our NEW national anthem?
Then go home and calculate whether the money in our Moniepoint can survive till Monday?
God abeg.
I love Nigeria.
That is precisely why I can complain about Nigeria.
If anything, the person who genuinely wants this country to work should be able to say:

“This isn’t working.”

Without immediately being accused of being unpatriotic.
Because Nigeria is not a person.
It cannot be offended because I said the roads are bad.
It cannot block me because I said electricity is unreliable.
It cannot subtweet me because I said food is expensive.
And it certainly cannot increase my transport fare because I criticised it.
And, here we are again.
October 1, 2026. Another Independence Day.
Another round of flags.
Another round of patriotic tweets and captions.
Another round of:

“Nigeria will be great.”

Maybe she will.
I genuinely hope she will.
But we need to stop treating HOPE as evidence.
A country doesn’t become better because we post green, white, green pictures.
It becomes better when the ordinary person can actually feel the improvement—in their OPay account, on their plate, at their workplace, on their street, in their transport fare, on their electricity bill and in their general ability to breathe without doing mental mathematics.
Until then, Happy Independence Day, Nigeria.
YES, WE ARE HYPOCRITES
Make una light fireworks.
Sing the national anthem.
Enjoy the holiday.
If you fit, buy yourself something nice. Ball.
Hopefully, we live long enough to see the country we keep posting about actually become the country we keep hoping for.
Because at this point… We don too suffer.
Na independence from affordability remain.
WRITTEN BY
Fortune Ayiamudu
Fortune Ayiamudu is a Nigerian writer and Plant Biology and Biotechnology graduate interested in culture, relationships, society, and everyday experiences. He writes personal essays and commentary with a conversational and relatable voice.

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