Opinion
Re-Establishing The Middle Class
It is acknowledged globally that every society has a
division of classes that indicate the social and economic standing of the
citizens particularly those who are in the productive class.
Society is divided
into three major classes: upper, middle and lower classes. In some countries
like the United States of America (USA), each class has sub-divisions. Others
have more or less. Class stratification, to a very large extend, depends on the
viability of the economy of a nation.
However, it is sad to note that Nigeria, which once had
three district classes, can no longer talk about class distinction. Owing to
the drastic decline in the standard of living in the country, what used to be
known as the middle class has disappeared? We are now left with the upper and
lower classes. The middle class is completely extinct. The lower class is also
under the threat of being obliterated.
To what do we attribute the anomaly? For me, the entire
problem is caused by the high level of corruption in the system. Corruption
perpetrated by the corrupt upper class prevents the distribution of wealth to
members in the other social classes. This leads to their strangulation and
eventual death.
A nation that is without the middle class cannot pride
itself as an economic giant. This is because the middle class is considered the
productive class. The upper class, in my view, is simply the consuming class.
While the lower class is where the artisans are found.
It, therefore, sounds ironical for any nation to pride
itself an economic giant without the middle class. Nigeria clearly falls in
this category. The Federal Government has always told Nigerians that the
nation’s foreign reserve appreciates without commensurate effect on the
citizens. It is indeed disheartening and even disgusting that our economy
planners think it is how much the nation has in foreign reserve that determines
its economic standing.
Nigeria is not a productive nation but a consuming one. We
have an economy that consumes something as minute as toothpick which can be
produced here. This results in the circulation of too much money in the system.
And this money is particularly in the hands of the upper class. Financial
control mechanism is almost non-existent. That might account for the extinction of the coin currency.
If our economy must return to its prosperous era, we need
the re-introduction of the middle class. With the presence of the middle class,
the so-called economic growth which the Federal Government touts about will
impact on Nigerians. Without it, any form of economic growth will be a mere
assertion on the paper.
It is sad that industries that once prospered and employed
several labour in the country have relocated to neighbouring countries. Poor
infrastructure and other factors that are not conducive to business are the
factors responsible for the flight.
Truly, the managers of our economy have failed to establish a nexus between this development and economic growth.
Any industry that closes and re-locates to another country further obliterates
the potential existence of the middle class. When there are no industries for
the middle class to work, how would the economy grow?
That is why the middle class has to be re-established. One
way of ensuring this is through the establishment of industries. We have to
revive moribund industries and attract investors to the country. At this stage,
planners of our economy have to do some studies on how some of the industries
like the textile industry can be established and sustained. Bad roads and poor
electricity are prevailing issues in the country that can no longer be ignored.
Also, the current effort at reviving agriculture has to be
sustained. The reason is that agriculture is not only the largest employer of
labour, it also generates wealth. If the sector is fully developed, it might
re-establish the middle class, among other factors.
Any economic policy of the government at this point in our
existence must be aimed at re-creating the middle class. Indeed, this class has
been in extinction for too long. The earlier it is re-established, the better
for our socio-economic growth.
Ogwuonuonu resides in Port Harcourt.
Frank Ogwuonuonu
The events that unfolded in Abuja on Tuesday November 11, 2025 between the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Chief Nyesom Wike and a detachment of soldiers guarding a disputed property, led by Adams Yerima, a commissioned Naval Officer, may go down as one of the defining images of Nigeria’s democratic contradictions. It was not merely a quarrel over land. It was a confrontation between civil authority and the military legacy that still hovers over our national life.
Nyesom Wike, fiery and fearless as always, was seen on video exchanging words with a uniformed officer who refused to grant him passage to inspect a parcel of land alleged to have been illegally acquired. The minister’s voice rose, his temper flared, and the soldier, too, stood his ground, insisting on his own authority. Around them, aides, security men, and bystanders watched, stunned, as two embodiments of the Nigerian state clashed in the open.
The images spread fast, igniting debates across drawing rooms, beer parlours, and social media platforms. Some hailed Wike for standing up to military arrogance; others scolded him for perceived disrespect to the armed forces. Yet beneath the noise lies a deeper question about what sort of society we are building and whether power in Nigeria truly understands the limits of its own reach.
It is tragic that, more than two decades into civil rule, the relationship between the civilian arm of government and the military remains fragile and poorly understood. The presence of soldiers in a land dispute between private individuals and the city administration is, by all civic standards, an aberration. It recalls a dark era when might was right, and uniforms conferred immunity against accountability.
Wike’s anger, even if fiery, was rooted in a legitimate concern: that no individual, however connected or retired, should deploy the military to protect personal interests. That sentiment echoes the fundamental democratic creed that the law is supreme, not personalities. If his passion overshot decorum, it was perhaps a reflection of a nation weary of impunity.
On the other hand, the soldier in question is a symbol of another truth: that discipline, respect for order, and duty to hierarchy are ingrained in our armed forces. He may have been caught between conflicting instructions one from his superiors, another from a civilian minister exercising his lawful authority. The confusion points not to personal failure but to institutional dysfunction.
It is, therefore, simplistic to turn the incident into a morality play of good versus evil.
*********”**** What happened was an institutional embarrassment. Both men represented facets of the same failing system a polity still learning how to reconcile authority with civility, law with loyalty, and service with restraint.
In fairness, Wike has shown himself as a man of uncommon courage. Whether in Rivers State or at the FCTA, he does not shy away from confrontation. Yet courage without composure often feeds misunderstanding. A public officer must always be the cooler head, even when provoked, because the power of example outweighs the satisfaction of winning an argument.
Conversely, soldiers, too, must be reminded that their uniforms do not place them above civilian oversight. The military exists to defend the nation, not to enforce property claims or intimidate lawful authorities. Their participation in purely civil matters corrodes the image of the institution and erodes public trust.
One cannot overlook the irony: in a country where kidnappers roam highways and bandits sack villages, armed men are posted to guard contested land in the capital. It reflects misplaced priorities and distorted values. The Nigerian soldier, trained to defend sovereignty, should not be drawn into private or bureaucratic tussles.
Sycophancy remains the greatest ailment of our political culture. Many of those who now cheer one side or the other do so not out of conviction but out of convenience. Tomorrow they will switch allegiance. True patriotism lies not in defending personalities but in defending principles. A people enslaved by flattery cannot nurture a culture of justice.
The Nigerian elite must learn to submit to the same laws that govern the poor. When big men fence off public land and use connections to shield their interests, they mock the very constitution they swore to uphold. The FCT, as the mirror of national order, must not become a jungle where only the powerful can build.
The lesson for Wike himself is also clear: power is best exercised with calmness. The weight of his office demands more than bravery; it demands statesmanship. To lead is not merely to command, but to persuade — even those who resist your authority.
Equally, the lesson for the armed forces is that professionalism shines brightest in restraint. Obedience to illegal orders is not loyalty; it is complicity. The soldier who stands on the side of justice protects both his honour and the dignity of his uniform.
The Presidency, too, must see this episode as a wake-up call to clarify institutional boundaries. If soldiers can be drawn into civil enforcement without authorization, then our democracy remains at risk of subtle militarization. The constitution must speak louder than confusion.
The Nigerian public deserves better than spectacles of ego. We crave leaders who rise above emotion and officers who respect civilian supremacy. Our children must not inherit a nation where authority means shouting matches and intimidation in public glare.
Every democracy matures through such tests. What matters is whether we learn the right lessons. The British once had generals who defied parliament; the Americans once fought over states’ rights; Nigeria, too, must pass through her own growing pains but with humility, not hubris.
If the confrontation has stirred discomfort, then perhaps it has done the nation some good. It forces a conversation long overdue: Who truly owns the state — the citizen or the powerful? Can we build a Nigeria where institutions, not individuals, define our destiny?
As the dust settles, both the FCTA and the military hierarchy must conduct impartial investigations. The truth must be established — not to shame anyone, but to restore order. Where laws were broken, consequences must follow. Where misunderstandings occurred, apologies must be offered.
Let the rule of law triumph over the rule of impulse. Let civility triumph over confrontation. Let governance return to the path of dialogue and procedure.
Nigeria cannot continue to oscillate between civilian bravado and military arrogance. Both impulses spring from the same insecurity — the fear of losing control. True leadership lies in the ability to trust institutions to do their work without coercion.
Those who witnessed the clash saw a drama of two gladiators. One in starched khaki, one in well-cut suit. Both proud, both unyielding. But a nation cannot be built on stubbornness; it must be built on understanding. Power, when it meets power, should produce order, not chaos.
We must resist the temptation to glorify temper. Governance is not warfare; it is stewardship. The citizen watches, the world observes, and history records. How we handle moments like this will define our collective maturity.
The confrontation may have ended without violence, but it left deep questions in the national conscience. When men of authority quarrel in the open, institutions tremble. The people, once again, become spectators in a theatre of misplaced pride.
It is time for all who hold office — civilian or military — to remember that they serve under the same flag. That flag is neither khaki nor political colour; it is green-white-green, and it demands humility.
No victor, no vanquish only a lesson for a nation still learning to govern itself with dignity.
By; King Onunwor
