By ‘Demola Bakare
Nigeria stands at a familiar crossroads. On one path lies the comfort of resistance—loud objections, recycled mistrust, and the temptation to dismiss reform as yet another burden on the people. On the other lies a more difficult but necessary journey: supporting structural change that strengthens our nation’s future. The ongoing tax reform debate places us squarely at this junction, and well-meaning Nigerians must choose wisely.
At its core, taxation is not merely about revenue; it is about the social contract between the state and the citizen. A functional tax system is how societies fund public goods, reduce inequality, and hold leaders accountable. For too long, Nigeria’s tax architecture has been inefficient, narrow, and deeply inequitable—placing pressure on a small formal sector while allowing vast leakages, evasion, and corruption to thrive.
The new tax reform seeks to correct these distortions.
Opposition to reform is not unexpected. In a country where public trust in government has been eroded by decades of mismanagement and corruption, skepticism is natural. However, skepticism must not harden into reflexive rejection. Many of the arguments against the reform—claims that it is anti-poor, unnecessary, or ill-timed—often ignore a more uncomfortable truth: Nigeria cannot sustainably develop without fixing how it raises and manages public revenue.
A critical pillar of Nigeria’s National Anti-Corruption Strategy (NACS) is the reduction of opportunities for rent-seeking and financial leakages within public systems. A weak tax system is a corruption enabler. It encourages discretion, opacity, and informal arrangements that benefit a few at the expense of the many. By broadening the tax base, simplifying processes, leveraging technology, and reducing human interference, tax reform directly aligns with the anti-corruption agenda.
In other words, this is not just a fiscal reform—it is an integrity reform.
Well-meaning Nigerians should also consider the alternative. When governments cannot rely on predictable, transparent tax revenue, they turn to unsustainable borrowing, inflationary financing, and ad-hoc levies. The result is higher living costs, reduced public investment, and a vicious cycle of poverty. Ironically, resisting tax reform today often worsens the very economic hardship critics claim to oppose.
Moreover, tax reform is essential for fairness. An economy where a small percentage of citizens and businesses shoulder the burden while others contribute nothing is unjust. Properly implemented reform ensures that everyone pays a fair share according to capacity, while government gains the resources to invest in health, education, infrastructure, and social protection. This is how nations reduce dependence on oil revenues and external shocks—a lesson Nigeria has learned repeatedly, often the hard way.
Support for reform does not mean blind acceptance. Constructive engagement is not the same as opposition for opposition’s sake. Well-meaning Nigerians should demand transparency in implementation, accountability in expenditure, and clear communication from government. These demands are strongest—not weakest—when citizens accept the necessity of reform and insist it be done right.
The anti-corruption fight teaches us an important lesson: systems matter more than slogans. You cannot arrest your way out of corruption, and you cannot protest your way into prosperity. Sustainable change comes from building institutions that work, rules that are fair, and processes that are difficult to abuse. A reformed tax system is one of such institutions.
History will not be kind to a generation that rejected reform simply because it was inconvenient. Every country that has achieved lasting development did so by making hard choices, often amid resistance and misunderstanding. Nigeria is no different.
Supporting the new tax reform is not an endorsement of government perfection; it is an endorsement of Nigeria’s potential. It is a vote for a future where public services are funded responsibly, corruption is structurally constrained, and citizenship carries both rights and responsibilities.
At this critical moment, well-meaning Nigerians must look beyond the noise, interrogate the substance, and stand on the side of long-term national interest. Reform is never painless—but stagnation is far more costly.
