By Owolola Adebola

There is a peculiar irony in Nigeria’s development story. Imagine planning to build a shopping mall and discovering your lot is occupied by an armed rebellion. That, in essence, has been the narrative of development efforts across several regions of Nigeria over the past two decades.

While other nations fret over interest rates and infrastructure deficits, Nigeria has had to contend with a far more sinister obstacle that has to do with the systematic undermining of development through terrorist insurgencies.

Broadly speaking, terrorism in Nigeria is not merely a security problem dressed up in political language; it is a comprehensive development crisis masquerading as a law-and-order issue. And like most uninvited guests at a party, it doesn’t just disrupt the festivities; it burns down the venue, steals the catering budget, and leaves a crater where your future was supposed to be.

Since 2009, Nigeria’s security challenges have cost the nation an estimated $150 billion in lost economic growth. To put that in perspective, that’s roughly equivalent to Nigeria’s annual budget multiplied by the kind of figure that makes economists weep into their spreadsheets. That’s money that could have gone toward schools, hospitals, roads, and agricultural development, which are apparently the literal foundation of a functioning state.

The Northeast, particularly Borno State, has been the epicenter of this economic hemorrhaging. Farms lie fallow. Markets close. Schools become military outposts or, worse, remain shuttered entirely. It’s difficult to achieve development targets that are running away or hiding in bunkers. The Sustainable Development Goals, those ambitious blueprints for eradicating poverty and building prosperity, look rather optimistic when you’re operating in an active conflict zone.

The cruel mathematics of terrorism’s impact on development is this: every military expenditure is money not spent on education. Every displaced family is a disrupted livelihood. Every destroyed school is a generation of lost learning. Terrorists don’t just kill people and destroy property; they assassinate the future in slow motion. In a way, our country has been creating poverty while pretending to be fighting it.

Here’s where the absurdity truly crystallizes. Nigeria’s development agenda prioritizes poverty reduction, yet terrorism has created millions of internally displaced persons (IDPs). These are those whose poverty is guaranteed because their livelihoods have been obliterated. Over 2 million Nigerians have been displaced by Boko Haram and other insurgent groups, with the majority concentrated in the North.

Displaced persons are, almost by definition, non-productive in the formal economy. They cannot farm their land. They cannot run their shops. They cannot contribute to the Gross Domestic Product (GDP) in any meaningful way. Instead, they consume resources via food aid, medical care, and temporary shelter. The paradox is bitter: in attempting to develop Nigeria, the nation must also care for millions whose development has been forcibly reversed.

These IDPs are living advertisements for development failure, though the failure is not their own. They embody the terrible cost of insecurity, which is somewhat a cost that no development framework can adequately price.

Additionally, education is not left behind in the chain of setbacks. It has become the proverbial hostage that can’t escape.

If there’s one sector where terrorism’s sabotage of development is most visible, it’s education. Boko Haram’s very name, often translated as “Western education is forbidden,” signals their explicit commitment to undermining human capital development. And they’ve been remarkably effective.

Thousands of schools have been destroyed or abandoned. Over 1 million children are out of school in the Northeast and part of the South West. Teachers, understandably reluctant to die for their monthly stipend, have fled regions where they once taught. The Chibok girls’ kidnapping in 2014 wasn’t just a tragedy; it was a symbol of how completely terrorism could weaponize education itself against development goals.

What’s particularly frustrating is that this happens in a nation that already struggles with education metrics. Nigeria has over 13 million out-of-school children. Call it the largest number in the world; you are not missing the point. Terrorism doesn’t need to invent the problem; it simply pours gasoline on an existing fire and watches it spread.

Then enters agricultural collapse, which is a starving development.

Nigeria’s agricultural sector is supposed to be the engine of inclusive growth and rural development. The government has launched various initiatives, which include the Agricultural Transformation Agenda and the Presidential Fertiliser Initiative, with genuine aspirations to modernize farming and lift rural communities out of poverty.

But it’s rather difficult to execute a fertilizer initiative in a region where farmers are afraid to visit their fields. Terrorism has effectively converted some of Nigeria’s most fertile regions into no-go zones. In Borno and Yobe states, farmers have abandoned their land. Pastoral communities have lost livestock to insurgents. The ripple effects extend to food security, nutrition, and ultimately to the nation’s economic resilience.

The cruel joke? These same regions are home to some of Nigeria’s poorest populations, precisely the people development programs are designed to help. Terrorism has created a situation where the most vulnerable are rendered even more vulnerable, locked out of the very opportunities meant to rescue them.

Who does not know that what we have on the ground today is infrastructure with an expiration date?

Building roads, schools, and hospitals in conflict zones is like writing with a pencil during an earthquake. Even when such infrastructure is completed, which is itself a feat, it remains vulnerable to destruction. Bridges built with development funds get blown up. Health clinics become targets. The infrastructure meant to drive development becomes a liability instead.

This creates a perverse incentive structure as investors and development agencies become risk-averse about conflict-affected regions, precisely where development is most needed. So while the North struggles, resources flow to relatively secure southern areas, deepening regional inequality which, of course, fuels further grievance and instability.

In a way, there is a need for a development strategy that actually addresses reality, since sustainable development in Nigeria cannot be achieved without genuine security. This shouldn’t be viewed as a separate issue; it’s foundational. You cannot build a knowledge economy if students and teachers are dead or traumatized. You cannot develop agriculture if farmers are afraid. You cannot attract investment if investors fear being kidnapped.

It is my conviction that Nigeria must pursue development and security simultaneously, understanding them not as separate challenges but as interconnected imperatives. Counter-insurgency operations must be accompanied by genuine developmental investment in communities. It must not be seen as a bribe, but as recognition that poverty, unemployment, and marginalization are the soil in which extremism grows.

It also means international support must recognize this nexus. Development aid, security assistance, and conflict resolution must be coordinated. Otherwise, we’re simply rearranging deck chairs on a sinking ship.

It is worth mentioning that Nigeria’s challenge is not unique, given the fact that many nations have developed despite insecurity. But the scale here is daunting. 

Terrorism doesn’t just threaten development; it’s actively reversing it in multiple regions.

The grim irony is that Nigeria has the resources, the population, and the potential to become a continental powerhouse. But potential means nothing when it’s held hostage to insecurity.

Development in Nigeria isn’t impossible, but until terrorism is decisively defeated, it will remain heroically difficult, frustratingly expensive, and heartbreakingly incomplete.

The shopping mall still awaits, but the lot remains contested. And that, unfortunately, is the real story of development in Nigeria today.

• Owolola Adebola is the State Publicity Secretary of the Nigeria Democratic Congress, NDC, Ondo State.