T-Pain

By Toyin Falola

‘T-pain’ is the new alias of our president, the Asiwaju of the Emilokan Dynasty. The first time I came across the new slang T-pain, I did not give much meaning to it because what does the American Rapper T-pain have to do with the truckload of Nigeria’s problem? But many thanks to the internet! I discovered that T-pain is rebranded as the personification of the Nigerian populace’s suffering under President Bola Tinubu’s administration. This is an adopted name for the pain Nigerians are experiencing due to the President’s economic reform and policies to restore the nation’s lost glory. Since entering politics, the President has gone by many nicknames: Jagaban to City Boy, Emilokan, and T-pain. Humour me, Nigerians, where does it end? Could it be that Mr. President finds it interesting to be the subject of humour for the people he represents? I think not.

            The other day, I had a good laugh when I saw an ad from a popular food delivery app that said: “Order food and get free delivery on all orders. Use the code TPAIN.” And just like that, I knew the internet had found its latest meme. The irony is not lost on anyone. In a country where people struggle to afford a decent meal, the idea that T-pain, the symbol of national economic hardship, is now being used to promote a food delivery service feels almost too poetic. It is as if the advertisers knew precisely what was on the minds of Nigerians:  this is the code we need, the code we are living under, that is keeping us from eating well.

The ‘T’ in T-pain refers to Tinubu, the captain who has sailed the nation’s ship into economic hardship. To those who believe in the vision and plans of his administration, T-pain means Temporary-Pain, as the president has described in his 64th Independence Anniversary Speech that reforms being implemented by his administration are showing positive signs and there is light at the end of the tunnel. Temporary hardship for the betterment of the economy. So, he says, keep enduring, e go better!

            But most Nigerians do not seem to accept the plans and ambitions of T-pain as seeing is believing: leave what we cannot see, let us believe in what we can see. As this generation will say, “Leave Chochocho, show workings!” Mr. President claims to understand the struggles faced by the people in these challenging times and vows his commitment to finding sustainable solutions to alleviate their suffering. As genuine as the intentions might seem, it is difficult to believe in an administration that started with “Emilokan” as its catchphrase. The so-called economic reform has taken away the purchasing power of an average Nigerian. NELFUND is on the path of making education inaccessible to the average Nigerian without burying families in debt. How does one restore dignity to the country when education, the fundamental building block, becomes a luxury for those who can afford to gamble with their future?

            Security reforms, but bandits can freely operate to the extent of damaging power supply to Northern states. Has security indeed improved? Petrol prices increased for the second time in October, and NNPC has officially crossed the 1000-naira mark. In the name of saving the cost of governance, he replaced 5 ministers, aside from the suspended one, by appointing seven new ones. Only P-BAT and his team understand his economics, and one needs to ask Mr. President the purpose of the so-called economic reform because we do not see how it has made life any better for Nigerians. In theory, reforms are meant to be a bridge to prosperity, a necessary disruption that realigns the economy for growth and development. The reforms have felt more like a series of policy missteps, or worse, deliberate choices to tighten the noose on ordinary Nigerians.

“Adiye nlaagun, iye ara e ni oje ka mo” is a Yoruba proverb that loosely translates to: “The chicken is sweating, but its feathers conceal it.” It is a metaphor that best describes the state of the Nigerian economy right now. While the average Nigerian is sweating through the daily grind, facing rising costs, and struggling to make ends meet, those in power seem to be unbothered and insulated from the suffering of the masses. The chicken’s feathers may look fine, but under the surface, the reality is that the economy is under intense pressure, and there is no sign of relief in sight. The elite might be untouched by the heat, but the average Nigerian is feeling the burn.

            In Nigeria, the price of goods and services rises and never decreases. The okra seller at the market will sell five sticks to you for two hundred Naira, and if you dare ask why it is that expensive, she will give you a stern look and say, “Are you blind? Don’t you see that we’re in Tinubu’s era?” They either blame T-pain or remind you of petrol pump prices, which is also an offshoot of his administration. One way or another, T-pain is the new word on the lip of every Nigerian. This is not even the era where you take money to the market and buy something off your shopping list, nor do you come back from the market smiling. The prices of things have just skyrocketed, so much that the last time you bought them, the market women with their foul mouths insulted you for pricing their goods without using your church mind. If it is not that you do not have the fear of God in you, why else would you price a tuber of yam from seven thousand Naira to two thousand Naira? The okada man also advised you to use your leggediz benz since five hundred Naira is too much for you to pay him to get you to your destination, which used to cost two hundred Naira before T-pain’s administration. So, you trek halfway and then take a cab for the remainder of your journey home to beat the cost of transportation. You eventually get home and start calculating how you have just spent your minimum-wage salary- that the increment is yet to be implemented- on just one excursion to the market. Were you robbed? Did money fall out of your pocket? What exactly did you buy for cash to have finished like this? At a point in your deep thought, you scream, “Tinubu!!!!!” It finally hit you that T-pain is the architect of the new level of inflation unlocked in Nigeria. It is like an exclamation of disbelief, an involuntary outburst at the situation. You wonder, how did we get here? How did we let this happen?

            Nigeria is indeed an exciting country to live in, and I mean that in every sense. Just like there is nothing new under the sun, Nigeria does not have new problems; the problems remain the same; they only differ in their degree of expression. We encounter no genuinely new problems; we see recurring issues of economic hardship, high cost of living, search for meaningful employment, bad governance, and insecurity, amongst other social vices. We only hope a new government will bring fresh air and comfort to our past sufferings. However, it appears that T-pain’s administration has only come to take the economy from frypan to fire.

            The so-called “devaluation” of the Naira is an economic measure that sounds like a policy straight out of a textbook but feels like a cruel joke when you are trying to buy food. With the Naira now worth less against the dollar, Nigerians can no longer escape the harsh reality that our currency has rapidly lost value, making goods unaffordable. Simple pleasures like a tin of Titus Sardine — have now been priced so that the commoner would have to do some calculations before buying. Who could have thought that Titus Sardine would ever be sold for 1,500 Naira or a bag of pure water be sold for 400 naira? The rich and the poor can feel the heat of T-pain’s regime. The T-pain era is a bitter joke, and though we are desperate for relief from the economic storm, we have found solace in humour because what else is there to do when the price of bread is now higher than your weekly transportation budget? Welcome to the T-pain era.

Take the recent rise in petrol prices, for example. With fuel now touching 1000 Naira per litre, a price point that would have been laughable just a few years ago. I remember the era of Goodluck Jonathan in 2012 when the petrol price was increased from 65 Naira to 120 Naira, and we still grumbled about it. This T-pain era is just the era we did not expect! Nigerians face the reality of paying high amounts to fill their cars or waiting for the government to “fix the economy” while their livelihoods drain. Petrol hikes are now a national sport, a quarterly event that leaves Nigerians clutching their wallets in dismay, with the only visible reward being a more efficient fuel subsidy elimination. The irony? You cannot subsidize anything if people cannot afford to buy the fuel in the first place.

The national power grid has collapsed more times in recent months than anyone can count. Before now, it used to be “Nepa don carry light;” now it is “National Grid don collapse’. The power supply used to be epileptic, but it has finally collapsed. It has become a joke, except there is nothing funny about it. Nigerians are left in the dark, quite literally, as power cuts continue to wreak havoc on businesses, education, and daily life. Imagine landing an international remote job after job hunting for years, only to lose it in a few months because your government failed to provide a stable power supply for its citizens. At this point, the only thing more consistent than the national grid’s collapse is the government’s promises to fix the nation’s problems. Yet, each new collapse feels like a fresh reminder of how far we have fallen. In a country where stable power could fuel industrial growth, make homes livable, and improve productivity, the constant blackouts are a stark symbol of what is broken in Nigeria.

Despite the administration’s insistence that “temporary pain” will lead to long-term gains, most Nigerians struggle to see the light at the end of the tunnel. In the words of this generation: “E go better, when?” It has been months, if not years, of hearing that the reforms are “showing positive signs,” yet the only thing that is showing is the rising cost of living, the continued devaluation of the Naira, and an increasing sense of desperation.

Ultimately, the T-pain era seems to be a paradox of promises and pain. Nigerians are caught in a cycle of hope mixed with hardship, facing a barrage of economic struggles with no clear end. Though the administration promises that the pain is temporary and for the greater good, the reality on the streets tells a different story. From skyrocketing food prices to endless fuel hikes and power outages, it feels like each day brings new challenges that the average citizen must overcome.

            To Mr. President, sitting in Aso Rock and reading a speech that sounds like “My fellow Nigerians, I am well aware of your frustration” instead of providing evident solutions only fuels the anger and frustration of the people because the reality on the streets contradicts the lofty promises broadcast from the government seat in Aso Rock. Despite the excruciating living conditions, turning a blind eye to the suffering of the populace, and insisting that the reforms are necessary for an economic breakthrough that takes Nigeria from the Third World to the First, achieving this goal should not be at the expense of the livelihood of the people lest to create reform, you create a worse deform that will take more years of hardship to restore. While the reforms are being implemented, there should be cushioning effects that make the reforms bearable for the people. People can better believe in a working administration than one who preaches “Temporary Pain.” The question is, for how long can this pain be temporary? Until the end of the administration in 2027, when will we have another hard time deciding on the next Emilokan or a second term for the current Emilokan? The most tremendous pain of reform is discontinuity. If another administration takes over from T-pain, would the mission not be aborted for the start of a new one? If President Tinubu’s administration does not shift focus to implementing measures that truly cushion the hardship, Nigeria risks a cycle of economic suffering that could persist beyond his term. The most significant risk here lies in the potential for the next administration to abandon current reforms, further destabilizing Nigeria’s path to recovery and prolonging the “temporary pain” that we were told would ease.

Nigerians are known to be symbols of endurance who face every challenge with humour and as a coping mechanism, even if it means turning the president into a subject of humour. However, there are endurance limits, and we must not get to a point where our people start killing their children for survival. The people have reached a point where they must weigh their survival against any promises of future prosperity, and this irony has not gone unnoticed. I believe there is still time to change the unpleasant narrative. T-pain can indeed be the temporary pain that the president’s supporters interpret it to be. A sigh of relief, a breath of fresh air, and ease despite reform is possible. But if the president decides to stick to his guns, there is nothing more we can do than continually believe and hope for the emergence of the Nigeria we dream of.