Job creation digest

06/12/2025

When are we getting HERE. Believe Begin Achieve

05/12/2025

When I started Moppet Foods years ago, one of our Moppet cereal variants, Moppet Nutmeal, contained peanut. Now, when I was using a blender to blend, I could add the peanut together with everything and just roll.

But as we scaled, the blender was no longer enough. We acquired a grinder to handle larger volumes, but it couldn’t blend peanuts along with the grains, a major challenge. I consulted an expert we had hired at the time, and he recommended a locally fabricated grinder specifically for peanuts. I reached out to local machine fabricators, and they delivered a clean, custom-built unit.

We tested it. It worked. The peanuts were ground smoothly. We mixed them into the cereal base and moved forward. But when we sent the product to the lab for routine testing, the results were shocking: Moppet Nutmeal showed dangerously high levels of metals, specifically iron filings. We were shocked. What had gone wrong?

We ran multiple tests. Only the peanut variant showed contamination. So we broke the process down and tested each ingredient individually. That’s when we discovered the truth: the contamination came from the peanut, but only when it was ground using the local machine. I switched back to blending peanuts with a standard kitchen blender, and the contamination disappeared. That was the moment we made a tough but necessary decision, we discarded the local grinder, despite having invested over ₦400,000 in its fabrication that time.

Later, I learned that NAFDAC does not approve this type of grinder for manufacturers. And for good reason.

But here’s the disturbing part: these same machines are everywhere. In markets across Lagos and beyond, they’re used daily to grind tomatoes, egusi, pepper, pap, beans, everything. Restaurants use them. Street vendors rely on them. Families depend on them. Every single day, millions of Nigerians consume food processed through these machines, unknowingly ingesting iron filings and heavy metals.

The health risks are severe: heavy metal exposure is linked to kidney and liver damage, heart disease, neurological disorders, and even cancer. Children and pregnant women are especially vulnerable. And yet, while regulators prohibit manufacturers from using these machines, there is no such restriction for public use.

The woman grinding tomatoes on the street serves more people daily than many factories. Yet she is left unregulated, unprotected, and uninformed.

I just remember this, because I visited the factory of local peanut butter mallam use to sell, it is grinded with this local machine, I am working on getting the one I visited a stainless steel grinder.

I just thought to drop this here to raise awareness for this. Keep your family safe, no one is wealthy enough for organ related type of sickness.

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24/11/2025

THE NYESOM WIKE vs LT. YERIMA SAGA:

Why Nigerians Are Missing the Point.

Nigeria is a theatre of dramatic contradictions. Nothing illustrates this better than the current controversy between the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory (FCT), Nyesom Wike, and a certain army officer, Lt. Yerima, over the enforcement of land use regulations in Abuja.

The public outcry has been deafening—television studios buzzing, radio hosts foaming with excitement, social media influencers acting like instant constitutional experts, and retired generals suddenly discovering their lost voices. Wike has been called everything from “high-handed” to “power-drunk,” and some have even demanded his removal.

But beneath the theatrics, one uncomfortable question remains:
Are Nigerians focusing on the wrong villain?

THE MILITARY AND OUR SELECTIVE OUTRAGE

For decades, the Nigerian military threw this country into chaos—politically, economically, socially. Coups, decrees, looting, human rights abuses, assassinations, suppression of dissent—the list is long. Citizens wailed and protested, but the institution never apologised, never accounted for its actions, never submitted itself to civilian scrutiny.

Today, the same military establishment—retired or serving—still carries an aura of intimidation. And when an officer is confronted for violating urban laws, many Nigerians instinctively side with the khaki, not the constitution.

That is the problem.

THE REAL ISSUE: A GENERAL’S LAND IN A GREEN AREA

The facts are simple:
A retired General acquired land in a designated green area—a location clearly marked as non-developable. He was warned. He was briefed. Yet construction began.

Instead of questioning why a privileged individual feels entitled to violate the Abuja Masterplan, the rage is directed at the minister insisting that the law must be followed.

Why is law enforcement suddenly tyranny?
Why is insisting on due process suddenly dictatorship?
Why is challenging military influence suddenly taboo?

The answer lies in decades of conditioned fear.

A HISTORY OF INTIMIDATION

Across Nigeria, the military has long operated with unchecked authority. Communities have been displaced. Civilians intimidated. Lands seized. Even now, along the Lokoja–Kaduna expressway near Anagada and Tungan Maji, a vast estate land seized by the army over fifteen years ago still lies abandoned. No compensation. No relocation. No accountability.

This pattern is not an accident—it is a mindset.

The NADECO era and similar episodes remind us that anyone who confronts military excesses risks harassment, arrest, or worse. The political elite made matters worse by treating the military as private enforcers rather than public servants.

So when someone finally stands up to them, Nigerians panic.

WIKE’S “OFFENCE”: DOING HIS JOB

Agree or disagree with his politics, Nyesom Wike is displaying something rare in Nigerian public service: administrative courage. He is not hiding behind committees. He is not delegating conflict. He is facing it head-on.

Leadership is not always soft speech and political diplomacy. Sometimes it is about taking the heat for doing what is right.

The minister’s actions send a message:
In a democracy, no institution—not even the military—is above civilian authority.

And that message terrifies those who have benefited from decades of impunity.

A DANGEROUS CALL: “REMOVE WIKE”

Some retired officers and political actors are now agitating for the minister’s removal. That demand is not only reckless—it is unconstitutional.

No civilian president rules by military influence. A minister derives authority from the President and the Constitution, not from retired power blocs. If President Tinubu yields to this kind of pressure, the precedent would be disastrous. Today, they demand Wike’s sack; tomorrow, they will demand something more ridiculous—perhaps even interference in his personal life.

Democracy dies not when soldiers take power, but when civilians surrender their mandate out of fear.

ABUJA IS WORKING — AND THAT IS WHAT SHOULD MATTER

Love him or hate him, the results in Abuja under Wike are visible:

road expansions,

improved sanitation,

enforcement of planning laws,

revived infrastructure,

clearer administrative direction.

This is the ground upon which he should be judged—not a single confrontation inflated by vested interests.

THE REFUSAL OF ENTRY: A SYMBOLIC INSUBORDINATION

Denying entrance to the FCT Minister is not just disrespect to one individual—
it is an affront to the Commander-in-Chief (C-in-C) because the minister acts under the President’s delegation.

If a lieutenant can deny a federal minister access, tomorrow the same mentality will deny a governor, a service chief, or even the President himself. This kind of behaviour has no place in a constitutional democracy.

SO, WHO SHOULD LT. YERIMA BE ANSWERABLE TO?

The answer is straightforward:

1. His immediate military chain of command

2. The Chief of Army Staff

3. The Chief of Defence Staff

4. Ultimately, the President and Commander-in-Chief

Not a retired General.
Not a political godfather.
Not social media commentators.
And certainly not himself.

Furthermore, in matters relating to FCT land administration, the Armed Forces Act does not override the FCT Act. Wike is the lawful administrative authority over land in Abuja, acting directly on behalf of the President.

TIME TO GET OUR DEMOCRACY RIGHT

Nigeria cannot continue to pretend that democracy and military privilege can co-exist on equal footing. Civilian authority must be supreme. The constitution must be supreme. And those entrusted with enforcing the law must not be vilified for doing their job.

Wike may be controversial. He may be loud. He may be blunt. But in this matter, he is right—and Nigeria is better for it.

If we cannot stand behind a public servant who insists on order, we should not complain when chaos reigns.

FINAL WORD

The real fight is not Wike vs Yerima.
The real fight is civilian authority vs military intimidation.

And for once, someone is bold enough to say: Enough.

22/11/2025

Nigeria’s New Constitution: The Bible?

By Cedricks Osokpor

Introduction: When a Courtroom Became a Pulpit

In an unprecedented moment in Nigeria’s judicial history, Justice James Omotoso—faced with a constitutional vacuum—reached not for case law, not for precedent, not for statutory interpretation, but for the Book of Matthew. No chapter. No verse. No textual grounding. Just a sweeping moral citation from a sacred book.

Not in a church.
Not in a theological symposium.
But in a constitutional court of a secular republic.

The ruling sent shock waves across Nigeria’s legal and civic spheres. Yet instead of triggering alarm at the collapse of constitutional logic, some legal practitioners applauded him—praising the “moral underpinning” of his judgment.

But beneath this applause lies a larger story—a story about selective justice, state insecurity, growing authoritarianism, the misuse of religion, and a Nigerian citizenry increasingly battered into silence.

This is that story.

1. The Anatomy of a Controversial Judgment

Justice Omotoso’s ruling did not emerge from a vacuum; it emerged from a climate of rising governmental paranoia. Nigeria is at a point where words have become more dangerous to the state than weapons.

The judge found no grounding in the Nigerian Constitution.
There was no clause.
No legal hinge.
No statutory backbone.

So he improvised—borrowing from a chapter of Matthew that he did not cite, to justify a conclusion he had already reached. In legal terms, this is called judicial activism pushed to dangerous extremes. In political terms, it is called state-sponsored moral laundering—using Scripture to bleach unconstitutional actions.

Why does this matter?

Because Nigeria is not a theocracy.
Nigeria is not governed by canon law.
Nigeria is not constitutionally permitted to derive legal rulings from pulpit memory.

And yet, the silence from Christian leaders was thunderous.
Why?
Because Nigerian Christianity has been conditioned to bow to power rather than challenge it.

2. Selective Justice: Guns Are Negotiated With, Voices Are Punished

To understand the gravity of Justice Omotoso’s ruling, one must contrast it with Nigeria’s pattern of handling insecurity.

Consider the facts:

Terrorists who terrorize entire regions are labeled “repentant Boko Haram.”

Bandits who kidnap school children are invited for negotiations.

Bomb-makers and killers are provided with rehabilitation, clothing, stipends, and “skills.”

Some allegedly find their way into security agencies.

Yet a civilian whose greatest weapon is speech is met with the full force of the Nigerian state.

When words become more criminal than bullets, the state is no longer afraid of violence; it is afraid of truth.

3. The Politics Behind Silence: A Government at War with Dissent

Nigeria’s federal structure is today defined by contradictions. Leadership insists insecurity is under control—even as mass burials, abductions, and bombings become weekly headlines.

In states ravaged by jihadist terrorism, governors deny that genocide exists—even when international observers document mass killings. By downplaying atrocities, they align with a federal culture of denial.

So when a dissenting voice arises, someone who challenges the storyline of government success, the state moves with unusual speed, using the judiciary as an arm of silencing.

Justice Omotoso’s biblical ruling must be viewed through thim lens: not as an isolated legal error, but as part of a broader state machinery that seeks to moralise repression.

4. Religion as a Tool of Control: The Oldest Trick in the African Playbook

Despots throughout history—across Africa and beyond—have used religion to soften public outrage. Religion is a powerful tool because:

It evokes emotions, not questions.

It commands obedience, not scrutiny.

It sanitizes power, even when power is corrupt.

This is not about Christianity or Islam; it is about how leaders weaponize sacred texts to deflect accountability.

In this case, the Bible was not quoted for enlightenment; it was quoted for effect. It created a moral spectacle, distracting from the absence of constitutional grounding.

Religion, once again, became the smokescreen for political manipulation.

5. A Judiciary Struggling Under Political Pressure

Investigations into Nigeria’s judicial patterns reveal a pattern:

Cases with political undertones rarely rely strictly on law.

Judges often deliver rulings that align with government interests.

The judiciary—underfunded, under-protected, and over-politicized—often becomes the battlefield where the executive asserts dominance.

Justice Omotoso’s ruling is therefore symptomatic of a judiciary losing its independence.

When judges become moral philosophers rather than interpreters of law, the Constitution becomes a suggestion—not a supreme legal document.

6. The Psychological State of the Nation: A People Dying Before Death

“To die once is heroic.
To die while still alive is cowardice.”

This line captures the socio-psychological state of Nigeria today. Many Nigerians are alive physically but dead emotionally—killed by hopelessness, insecurity, inflation, unemployment, bad governance, and silence.

The population has become the flock scattered by a struck shepherd:

The leaders are united in their interests.

The followers are divided by tribe, religion, poverty, and political crumbs.

Divide-and-rule has become the invisible national policy.

7. What This Means for Nigeria’s Future

If Nigeria continues down this path, several consequences loom:

1. The Constitution will become irrelevant

If judges constantly reach for religious texts to justify rulings, the Constitution becomes optional.

2. Citizens will lose trust in governance

No nation survives when trust collapses.

3. Insecurity will continue to rise

Because the state’s priorities are misplaced.

4. Dissent will eventually radicalize

When peaceful voices are silenced, frustration takes darker forms.

5. Religion will further divide the nation

Especially when it is used selectively.

8. The Cure: Light, Courage, and Constitutional Revival

Nigeria must wake up from the coma of complacency.
We must insist that:

The Constitution—not Scripture—is the basis of judgment.

Justice must be blind, not biased.

Dissent is not treason.

Government must confront terrorists, not pacify them.

Religion must never again be used as a weapon of statecraft.

A nation cannot move forward when its moral compass is hijacked, its judiciary compromised, and its citizens silenced.

The Bible itself says:
“Righteousness exalts a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people.”

If Nigeria claims to quote Scripture, then let it obey it.

The question remains:
Which path have we chosen?

02/10/2025

30/09/2025

Say no to jungle justice. The problem of a one sided story.

23/09/2025

Ajaokuta: Nigeria’s Steel Dream or Endless Mirage?

By Osokpor E. Cedricks @gmail.com

“Truth may sting at first, but it heals in the end.”

Few projects embody Nigeria’s promise and paradox like the Ajaokuta Steel Complex. Conceived in the late 1970s as the foundation of our industrial revolution, it was designed to be Africa’s largest integrated steel plant, producing millions of tons of steel and thousands of jobs. Instead, four decades later, it stands as a rusting monument to broken promises, wasted billions, and the failures of successive governments.

With renewed pledges by President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s administration to “resuscitate Ajaokuta,” Nigerians are once again being asked to believe. But history warns us to be cautious. The dream of Ajaokuta has become a recurring campaign slogan, not an economic engine.

A History of Promises and Failures

Every Nigerian leader since Shehu Shagari has promised to deliver Ajaokuta. None has succeeded.

Shehu Shagari (1979–1983): As the civilian president who initiated the project with Soviet contractors, Shagari assured Nigerians that “we shall soon join the league of industrial nations through steel.” But the 1983 coup cut his tenure short before completion.

Ibrahim Babangida (1985–1993): In 1987, IBB declared that “the completion of Ajaokuta remains a priority of this administration.” Funds were allocated, but economic crisis and mismanagement derailed progress.

Sani Abacha (1993–1998): Abacha promised steel would be the “bedrock of Nigeria’s industrialisation.” His regime tinkered with funding, but the plant remained idle.

Olusegun Obasanjo (1999–2007): Returning as civilian president, Obasanjo pledged in 1999: “We shall complete Ajaokuta Steel to drive industrialisation.” Instead, he concessioned it to Solgas Energy (which failed) and later to India’s Global Infrastructure Holdings. Legal battles followed, leaving the plant trapped in disputes rather than producing steel.

Umaru Musa Yar’Adua (2007–2010): Yar’Adua revoked the controversial concessions, vowing to restore government control. But litigation, coupled with his ill-health and death in 2010, left Ajaokuta in limbo.

Goodluck Jonathan (2010–2015): In 2013, his Information Minister Labaran Maku declared, “We will not let this place go down like that; we will do our best to revive this steel plant. The investment cannot go into the drains.” Committees were set up, concessions discussed, but by 2015, the giant remained silent.

Muhammadu Buhari (2015–2023): At a 2015 campaign rally in Lokoja, Buhari promised that “resuscitating the company… will generate employment for our teeming youths and create wealth.” In 2019, he signed an agreement with Russia at the Sochi Summit to complete the plant, and in 2020 established the Ajaokuta Presidential Project Implementation Team. The House of Representatives even pledged $500 million for completion. Yet, despite roadmaps and committees, not a single ton of commercial steel was produced.

Bola Ahmed Tinubu (2023– ): During his campaign rally in Kogi, Tinubu assured voters: “I will resuscitate Ajaokuta Steel Complex and ensure it is running.” In 2024, his Minister of Steel Development announced a three-year revival roadmap, involving concessions to “operators with core competence.” Nigerians wait again, with cautious hope.

Even opposition politicians use Ajaokuta as bait. Atiku Abubakar, during his campaigns, told Kogi residents that “the nightmare that was the challenge of the iron and steel company will be a thing of the past.” Of course, losing elections spared him the burden of delivery.

Why Ajaokuta Keeps Failing

The reasons are not mysterious.

1. Lack of Political Will and Continuity: Each administration makes promises, sets up committees, and launches new roadmaps. Then comes the next election cycle, new ministers, shifting priorities—and the cycle repeats.

2. Corruption and Mismanagement: Since the 1970s, billions of dollars have been poured into Ajaokuta. Contracts inflated, equipment abandoned, funds diverted. If Nigeria could not deliver steel when the plant was new and the technology fresh, why should we believe it can now, with decades of decay?

3. Obsolete Technology: Ajaokuta was designed around the Blast Furnace and Basic Oxygen Furnace process, the global standard in the 1970s. Today, steelmaking has moved towards more flexible, energy-efficient mini-mills and electric arc furnaces. Reviving Ajaokuta to modern standards would cost astronomical sums—likely more than building smaller, new plants from scratch.

4. Comparative Failures: Ajaokuta is not unique. Its sister rolling mills in Jos, Oshogbo, and Katsina collapsed under the same weight of inefficiency and corruption. The Nigerian National Petroleum Company (NNPC) and Nigeria Airways offer equally sobering examples. Why expect Ajaokuta to be different?

5. Global Competitiveness: Even if Ajaokuta comes alive, how will it compete with China, India, or Russia—countries with efficient plants, integrated supply chains, and cheaper production costs? With Nigeria’s erratic power supply, poor infrastructure, and high operating costs, the steel from Ajaokuta would likely be too expensive to compete locally or internationally.

The Way Forward

The painful truth is this: Ajaokuta is not just a technological challenge—it is a governance problem. It has become Nigeria’s white elephant, a project sustained by nostalgia and political rhetoric rather than hard economic logic.

It is time to break the illusion. Nigeria must stop chasing the ghost of Ajaokuta and instead redirect resources to smaller, decentralized, private-sector-driven steel plants. Mini-mills using scrap and electric arc furnaces are cheaper, faster to build, and better suited to Nigeria’s infrastructure realities. Private capital and competition—not government monopoly—can deliver steel sustainably.

Moreover, Nigeria must focus on fixing the basics: reliable power, efficient transport, transparent policies, and anti-corruption safeguards. Without these, even a brand-new Ajaokuta will eventually collapse.

Conclusion

From Shagari to Tinubu, every leader has promised to revive Ajaokuta. From Soviet contractors to Russian agreements, from committees to concessions, the story is the same: plenty of words, no steel.

If Nigeria could not make Ajaokuta work in its prime, it is unrealistic to expect that four decades of rust and obsolescence will suddenly transform into prosperity. Dangote was right: the dream has become a mirage.

The true path forward lies not in reviving a rusted giant but in building nimble, modern, private-sector-driven alternatives that can thrive in today’s world. Until Nigeria accepts this truth, Ajaokuta will remain what it has always been—a monument to wasted dreams.

14/09/2025

Patriotism is to a nation and not to the Party.

14/09/2025

Wrong policies infuriates; Nigeria be warned.