The April rabbit hole

April began, as it always does, with people playing the world’s most dangerous game: trying to figure out which headlines were real and which were April Fools’ pranks. Someone tweeted that electricity had been restored nationwide for 24 consecutive hours. I remember a friend of mine violently snorting with outrage at the mere thought of […]

April began, as it always does, with people playing the world’s most dangerous game: trying to figure out which headlines were real and which were April Fools’ pranks. Someone tweeted that electricity had been restored nationwide for 24 consecutive hours. I remember a friend of mine violently snorting with outrage at the mere thought of joking about that. Another claimed that fuel queues had mysteriously vanished from Lagos to Maiduguri. That one was so obviously fake it didn’t even qualify as humour—it was just cruelty. Why? Because that’s actually true. It is fake because it is true. Fuel dey for filling station, the queues are now at the job markets, and at the homes of APC moneybags who must bless you abundantly before you can afford the abundant fuel.

But as the month wore on, the jokes dried up, because reality usually out-pranks everyone.

By the second week of April, the economic news had stopped being funny altogether. The naira, which was trading around N700 to the dollar when this government took office, now hovering near N1,400. That is 100 per cent devaluation in an import-dependent economy where everything from rice to roofing sheets comes from overseas. Fuel that once cost N185 now sells for N1, 400 per litre. Transportation has become so expensive that some workers simply cannot afford to go to work anymore. The government promised “Renewed Hope.” Three years in, Nigerians are still waiting for any kind of renewal to arrive.

The World Bank, never one for sugarcoating, warned that increased pre-election spending could erode Nigeria’s fragile reform gains. Meanwhile, foreign reserves dropped by $850 million in just three weeks—reversing a nine-month upward trend. Traders blamed the proliferation of election Ghana-must-gos and forex pressures. In other words, politicians are busy spending money they don’t have to win votes they might not get, while the rest of us watch our purchasing power evaporate.

And then there is the political theater. President Tinubu replaced his finance minister, Wale Edun—the architect of the government’s radical economic overhaul—in a surprise reshuffle less than a year before elections. Officials say it was due to a personal issue. In Nigerian political translation, that usually means: “We can’t tell you, but please keep voting for us.”

The Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) is also having a moment. Its chairman, Prof. Joash Ojo Amupitan, is facing mounting pressure to resign after alleged pro-Tinubu tweets were linked to him. Civil society groups are protesting. Nigerians in the diaspora are protesting. The commission says a forensic investigation found that the tweets were fabrications. But in a country where trust in electoral bodies is already thinner than a politician’s campaign promise, the damage is done.

Meanwhile, in the Strait of Hormuz… as Nigeria’s political class plays musical chairs, the rest of the world is busy trying not to start World War III. The US-Israeli war with Iran, which began in late February, has now evolved into a maritime standoff that would be comical if it weren’t so terrifying. Iran closed the Strait of Hormuz. The US responded by blockading Iranian ports. So now we have a blockade of a blockade—the geopolitical equivalent of two stubborn goats refusing to move from a narrow bridge.

The IMF has warned that this conflict could trigger a global recession. Global growth projections have been slashed. Oil prices have climbed above $100 per barrel. And because Nigeria is an oil-dependent economy that also imports most of its refined petroleum, we get the worst of both worlds: higher pump prices and lower purchasing power.

The peace talks brokered by Pakistan fell apart, then resumed, then wobbled again. The US has reportedly turned back 23 ships attempting to transit the strait since the blockade began on April 13. Two sanctioned ships have allegedly broken through with no incident, which either means the blockade is not very effective, or someone is not telling the truth. In this particular rabbit hole, both are equally likely.

Here is where April stops being funny altogether. The Middle East conflict is not just a distant headline. It is directly affecting Nigerian wallets. Higher global oil prices mean higher fuel costs even though Nigeria is now a net exporter of refined products, thanks to Mallam Dangote, and an even taller thanks to Oga Trump. Higher fuel costs mean higher transportation and food prices. And higher prices mean more Nigerians slip below the poverty line. According to PwC, an estimated two million more Nigerians are expected to fall into poverty this year, raising the share of the poor population to 62 per cent.

Meanwhile, election season is kicking into top gear. Party primaries began on April 23. Defections are happening faster than a Kano Adaidaita Sahu changing lanes. Alliances are collapsing and reforming like a poorly built bridge. The Arewa Consultative Forum has warned INEC and the federal government against actions that could escalate the already precarious security situation. And everyone is pretending that 2027 is still far away, even though it is right around the corner.

If there is a lesson from this April rabbit hole, it is that the world has become very small. What happens in the Strait of Hormuz affects what happens at a fuel station in Sokoto. What happens in Washington affects what happens at the polling booths in Lagos. We cannot afford to be spectators anymore.

April gave us jokes, and then it gave us reality. The rabbit hole is deep. But if we keep our eyes open and our sense of humor intact, we might just find our way out before May arrives.

Or at least laugh while we are falling.