Opinion
Boosting Agriculture In Rural Communities
In Nigeria, agriculture contributes about 40% of the Gross Domestic Product (GDP). The sector also necessitates the engagement of two-thirds of the total labour force for the production of consumer goods.
The agricultural goods, no doubt, provide livelihood for about 90% of the rural population through intense cassava, cocoyam, cowpea, fish amongst others that are produced for home consumption and export.
Before now, Nigeria’s huge agricultural resource base had offered great potential for economic growth. From the 70s to the late 80s, Nigeria’s agricultural prowess had sustained the economy despite oil exploration.
However, the shift from agriculture to politics and oil exploration diminished the quest for the production of cash crops for human consumption and export, hence the presence of poverty, hunger and starvation in the land. It is interesting to note that about 80% of the population lives below the poverty line.
The rural populace depends solely on agriculture for food and income as 90% of small scale farmers cultivate small plots to boost agriculture. In Africa and especially Nigeria, women tend to be major players in the agricultural production, processing and marketing yet their households are often the most chronically poor members of the rural communities. Most of these women appear to be uneducated and lack exposure to social amenities, but sacrifice to ensure that their children have the best life.
Lately, rural-urban migration has increased thus giving the women much load to carry, mostly now that rural infrastructure development is at its lowest ebb. Infact, amenities like health care, education and water supply are focused solely in urban areas and expose the rural populace to untreated water such as borehole, ill equipped health centers and the likes.
The neglect of the rural areas has greatly affected the profitability of agricultural production as impassable roads also impede marketing of agricultural commodities, forcing the rural producers to sell their produce at unreasonable prices which most times lead to loss as some perishable items go bad.
On the other hand, the urban communities face multifarious problems such as overcrowding, congestion, inadequate housing systems, high rate of unemployment, high crime rate and other forms of social vices and delinquencies.
Lack of development projects, non-employment of indigenes and non-provision of scholarship opportunities are other major factors plaguing host communities, leading to mass exodus to urban areas.
Giving cash to communities by multinational companies on its own causes rifts and factions leading to the death of generations of youths and clashes between first, second and third class chiefs of many communities. Extraction activities by these communities have caused serious environmental and social damage in the Niger Delta area leading to brutal repression of opposition by security agencies.
The federal and state governments therefore owe it as a duty to nip this unbearable situation faced by rural communities in Nigeria in the bud. This is by way of encouraging and recognizing their role in the development of agriculture. The rural communities are in dire need of government support especially in the areas of electrification, road network, and pipe borne water and health centers. Outside this, an agricultural loan scheme has to be floated to stimulate the rural populace to embark on intensive and aggressive agricultural production.
The present trend at which the rural communities are left bare leads to urban drift which in turn discourages their interest and involvement in agriculture.
That there is scarcity of food for home consumption and export, results from high neglect of the rural communities.
To avert the trend, it is proper that Nigeria re-invents its interest in agriculture. This is the only way Nigeria can curb unemployment, increase gross domestic product and stop the menace of hunger and starvation in the land.
Williams is of the Rivers State Broadcasting Corporation, Port Harcourt.
Tammy Williams
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
