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Opinion

Dirty Money: Could COVID-19 Mean the End of Cash?

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By Joel Popoola

Nigeria is Africa’s largest economy, but we are pretty old-fashioned when it comes to money.

Although many Nigerians are used to receiving money electronically from relatives overseas, at home the vast majority of people prefer physical money to digital payments and would rather queue up at a kiosk for cash than pay for something using their phone.

It’s not smart. And in the time of COVID-19, it’s not safe.

By 2025, almost two-thirds of Nigerians will own a smartphone, but right now only 6% of us use digital technology to make financial transactions.

In Kenya, meanwhile, the number is 73%

Digital payments save businesses and consumers time and money: think of the time and effort it would save Nigerians in remote rural communities from not having to travel to go to the bank!

More importantly for digital democracy campaigners like me, electronic money is much easier to keep track of, increasing accountability and transparency and reducing corruption and theft.

So why don’t we work towards becoming the first nation on earth to abolish cash?

This might sound like a ludicrous dream, but in the time of the coronavirus, it might not be as far-fetched as you think.

Reducing the handling of cash to a simple way of slowing the spread of this and other viruses – and social distancing is almost impossible in a kiosk or bank queue.

And Nigerians are getting used to the idea of digital payments. During the COVID-19 lockdown, many Nigerians had no choice but to switch to digital banking when bank branches were closed. And they liked it. There were even reports of shops refusing to take money.

Making the change to a cashless Nigeria would require intensive effort, but the chances such a move could pay for itself. When Mexico made state worker salary payments, social welfare and pensions electronic, it saved the equivalent of 491 billion Naira.

Then, there is also the informal economy.

According to the IMF, the Nigerian informal sector accounted for 65% of Nigeria’s 2017 GDP. A move away from a cash-in-hand culture could lead to a very helpful increase in the government’s tax revenue.

Nigeria is already making more progress towards becoming a cashless society than you might think.

The COVID-19 crisis also saw the government utilise digital-payment platforms to distribute financial support for those affected by the lockdown.

This followed on from earlier efforts to establish payment service banks, which see telecom companies permitted to provide financial services.

Other government targets could be achieved too. The payment service banks were one of the initiatives aimed at meeting targets set in 2012, for 80% of Nigerian adults to have a bank account by 2020. These ambitious targets have been missed (the figure is currently around 60%) but a 2015 report prepared for the G20, the world’s largest 20 economies, highlighted the potential of digitised payments to rapidly increase access to financial services.

The journey towards a cashless Nigeria would require significant government commitment and investment. But the government could start tomorrow by aiming to making all government payments, such as Conditional Cash Transfer, digital by default.
And doing so would be hugely beneficial for our democracy.

Physical cash is dirty money in more ways than one indeed.

Transparency and accountability are almost impossible to achieve with cash payments which are anonymous and untraceable. And this has huge implications when it comes to making sure public money is spent were it is supposed to be spent.

When the Indian government started making pension payments through digitally instead of using cash bribe demands almost halved. I’m sure almost every Nigerian would dearly love to see that here.

At the digital democracy campaign we are determined to improve accountability and transparency in Nigerian politics.

We have created a free app called Rate Your Leader, which allows voters to contact directly with their local elected representatives. The Rate Your Leader app helps politicians engage directly with people who elected them, helping them understand what matters most to the people who elect them, get important information directly to them and build relationships of trust with the electorate.

We did this because in 2020, democracy is digital. Communication is digital. Commerce is digital.

Our money should be digital too – not least in the interests of public health.

Far from being a fantasy, perhaps a cashless Nigeria is an idea whose time has arrived.

Joel Popoola is a Nigerian technology entrepreneur, digital democracy campaigner and is the creator of the Rate Your Leader app. He can reached via @JOPopoola

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Opinion

GLO and the Democratization of Communication in Nigeria

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By Dr. Sani Sa’idu Baba

Glo, the “Digital Oxygen” of Nigeria’s Democracy

As Nigeria marked Democracy Day on June 12, it is important to celebrate not only our democratic journey as a nation, but also institutions whose values and contributions reflect the very essence of democracy.

In Nigeria’s telecommunications industry, Glo stands out as arguably the most democratic network. Democracy thrives on inclusion, accessibility, equal opportunity, participation, and the empowerment of the people. Since its inception, Glo has consistently demonstrated these ideals through its commitment to making communication affordable and accessible to millions of Nigerians.

By pioneering competitive tariffs, affordable data services, and innovative products tailored to the needs of ordinary citizens, Glo helped break barriers to communication and brought connectivity within reach of people across different social and economic backgrounds. In doing so, it democratized access to information, knowledge, and opportunities in an increasingly digital world.

This commitment has been tested in recent times. Following the Nigerian Communications Commission’s approval of a 50 percent tariff adjustment across the telecommunications industry in 2025, operators were compelled to review their pricing structures. Yet Glo’s response reflected a people-first philosophy even amid economic pressure. Through generous data bundles, rollover benefits, value-back offers on MiFi devices, and bonus data packages, the company sought to cushion the impact on subscribers. While the industry generally moved toward higher costs, Glo worked to ensure that communication remained within the reach of ordinary Nigerians, staying true to the democratic principle that access should never be reserved for a privileged few.

Glo’s democratic approach extends beyond pricing to infrastructure development. Its 2025–2026 network modernization programme, which involved the deployment of over a thousand new 4G LTE sites, spectrum expansion, and the reconstruction of critical fibre routes, has been particularly noteworthy for its focus on underserved rural communities as well as densely populated urban centres such as markets and educational institutions. Democracy is not merely about serving those already at the centre of power; it is about extending opportunity to those at the margins. By expanding connectivity to communities that have historically been overlooked by telecommunications infrastructure, Glo has quietly been democratizing not only communication but also access to the digital future.

A key pillar of any true democracy is the protection and promotion of freedom of speech and expression. Through its reliable and affordable network, Glo has empowered millions of Nigerians to express their views, share ideas, engage in public discourse, and connect with others without being constrained by cost or access. This is not an abstract principle. It is reflected daily in the WhatsApp groups, Facebook communities, online forums, and citizen-led conversations that increasingly shape Nigeria’s political and social discourse. From grassroots town hall engagements to real-time reactions during elections and national debates, Glo provides a platform through which citizens exercise one of the most fundamental rights in a democratic society.

Furthermore, Glo’s unwavering support for local content, Nigerian talents, sports, entertainment, and entrepreneurship reflects its belief in creating opportunities for people to succeed and contribute meaningfully to national development. From its long-standing sponsorship of football competitions to its investment in Nigerian music, Nollywood, and homegrown entrepreneurial initiatives, Glo has consistently amplified Nigerian voices and celebrated Nigerian excellence. This commitment to empowering individuals mirrors the democratic principle of broad participation and shared progress.

As we honour the heroes of June 12 and reflect on the sacrifices that paved the way for democratic governance in Nigeria, Glo deserves recognition as a corporate institution that has consistently advanced the values of inclusion, accessibility, empowerment, and freedom of expression. In many respects, Glo has done for communication what democracy seeks to do for governance: place power in the hands of the people.

As Nigeria celebrates Democracy Day, Glo stands not merely as a telecom provider but as a symbol of inclusion, accessibility, and empowerment. In connecting millions of Nigerians to one another and to the world, it has helped deepen democratic participation and amplify the voices of ordinary citizens. It is more than a network. It is more than “unlimited.” It is “digital oxygen” that keeps Nigeria’s democratic conversation alive.

Happy Democracy Day, Nigeria.

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Opinion

A SILEC Voice Against the Tide by Kwame Jamal

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The morning sun streamed through the stained-glass windows of the Anglican Church of Transformation Hall, casting patches of amber and gold across the gathered crowd. Mothers clutched small bouquets—it was Mother’s Day—and children fidgeted in their seats, unaware that history was about to be made in their midst.

At the podium stood Sunny Irakpo, his hands steady on the lectern, his voice carrying the weight of nearly two decades of quiet war. Not a war of soldiers or bombs, but one fought with pamphlets, school visits, rehabilitation talks, and now—something far greater.

Before him sat bishops in clerical collars, doctors in tailored suits, community leaders in colorful Nigerian attire, and ordinary men and women who had crossed oceans for a better life. They had come to witness the unveiling of the SILEC International Magazine (SIM)—the first global media platform dedicated exclusively to reporting drug-related issues across Africa, the United States, and beyond.

“Just like a SIM device is important to a phone,” Sunny began, his voice warm yet resolute, “imagine one with a sophisticated phone without a SIM. Such a phone will be useless. Therefore, SIM is a solution provider—an enabler designed to bring value, reset mindsets, and create a global platform bold enough to revolutionize the media ecosystem.”

The room leaned in.

Three hours earlier, Revd. Canon Paul Obike had opened the ceremony with a prayer and a smile. The anchor Venerable Shola Ogbedebi , He looked out at the sea of faces—mothers, especially, whom he thanked for their invisible labor of raising children in a world saturated with temptation.

“Sunny Irakpo,” Ogbedebi had said, “is a courageous young man with strong passion and zeal, championing a worthy cause that has taken the lives of many promising youth in Nigeria, the United States, and across the globe. He is a trailblazer. A strong voice that keeps shaping policy direction.”

The audience had applauded, some wiping tears. They knew the statistics. They had buried nephews, cousins, sons.

Now, as Sunny continued his address, he moved from metaphor to mission.

“SILEC International Magazine is not just a publication,” he said. “It will drive awareness, create employment opportunities for young people, and support underprivileged students—particularly in Nigeria, where more than twenty million children remain out of school due to financial hardship.”

He paused, letting the number settle.

“Twenty million.”

A murmur rippled through the hall.

Sunny spoke of the vision conceived years ago, held in his heart like a pregnancy carried through contraction and pain. “When a child eventually escapes the womb, the mother leaps for joy,” he said. “Today, I stand in solidarity as a mother—not by pregnancy, but by conception of ideas that could help proffer solutions to the many problems confronting mankind. This is my joy: that baby SIM is birthed to the world today, in a country where dreams come through.”

He invoked Habakkuk 2:2—write the vision and make it plain—and reminded the gathering that a child’s raising belongs not only to its parents but to the entire community. “So it is for this newborn, named SIM,” he said. “I call for your collective nurturing.”

The statistics he shared were stark.

A United Nations report from 2025 stated that 316 million people worldwide were affected by drugs. Nearly half a million deaths annually. Twenty-eight million healthy years of life lost. In 2023, only one in twelve people with drug use disorders received any treatment.

In the United States, over one million people between the ages of eighteen and forty-five had died from drugs.

But it was Africa that Sunny named as the emerging frontline. “The new market,” he said quietly. “Seventy percent of young people. In Nigeria, according to UNODC, 14.4 million people aged fifteen to sixty-four abused drugs and substances as of 2018—significantly higher than the global average. Those aged eighteen to thirty-nine remain the worst users today.”

He did not shout. He did not need to. The numbers screamed for themselves.

Then came the moment the room had been waiting for.

The Chairman of the occasion, The Rt. Revd. Dr. Augustine Unuigbe—Coordinating Bishop of the Church of Nigeria North America Mission and Managing Director of Rapha Medical Group—rose from his seat. He was a tall man with gentle eyes and the steady hands of a physician.

“As a medical doctor,” Bishop Unuigbe said, stepping to the podium, “I have seen firsthand cases of drug overdose. I have watched young people slip away on hospital beds, their parents wailing in corridors. The drug problem and overdose deaths in the United States are underreported—for reasons I cannot ascertain. But time has come for the message to be louder.”

He turned to look directly at Sunny.

“My path and Sunny Irakpo crossed on social media,” the bishop continued. “I did not know Sunny from Adam. What brought us together is divine connection. In 2021, met him physically when the Primate of All Nigeria, the Most Rt. Dr. Henry Chukwudum Ndukuba, invited Sunny to present a paper at the Standing Committee meeting—the highest decision-making body of the Church of Nigeria, Anglican Communion. His presentation on ‘The Monster of Drug Addiction: A Battle for the Future’ was educative, revealing, and commendable.”

The bishop’s voice deepened. “My association and endorsement of SILEC Initiatives is based on the credible platform and the carrier of the message—Sunny Irakpo—who has shown serious commitment for nearly two decades. This young man deserves all the support and encouragement to propagate the message farther.”

He placed his hand on a tablet connected to a large screen. “I now unveil the SILEC International Magazine—electronically, with Artificial Intelligence tools for the campaign ideology—to the glory of God and benefit of humanity.”

The screen flickered to life. The magazine’s website appeared: crisp, modern, alive with stories. A video montage played—interviews with recovered addicts, profiles of resilient entrepreneurs, reports from Nigerian villages where schoolrooms stood empty. The audience watched in rapt silence.

Then they rose. They clapped. Some wept.

Dr. Inua Momodu, President of the Nigerian Community in Atlantic County, New Jersey, seized the moment. “Drug abuse affects almost every household,” he said. “Everyone must be involved in this fight to save the lives of young people. The Nigerian community under my leadership will continue to support SILEC Initiatives with effective collaboration.”

Distinguished guests nodded firmly from the front row. Besides, Angels In Motion ably represented by Laura Rhodes whispered to a colleague: We need to partner with them.

Before closing, Sunny Irakpo turned to the mothers in the room. It was, after all, their day.

“Dear mothers,” he said, “your roles in family and nation-building cannot be overemphasized. Sadly, in the cause of my advocacy, I have seen women deeply engaged in drug abuse and illicit trafficking. The most despicable act is using their most revered private parts to conceal drugs. One out of four females is now a drug abuser.”

The room grew very still.

“We urge our mothers to hold firm the values that help shape society. Tighten the home front. Help prevent our wards from this destructive path.”

He paused, and his voice softened.

“In loving memory, I remember today the sacrifices of my late parents—Pa Christopher Ewomarevia and Mrs. Victoria Adiheji Irakpo—for the value of education and godly parenting they implanted in me. They started this vision of SILEC with me in 2010. It pleased God that they did not witness this very important occasion. But I give God all the glory. May their kind souls continue to rest in peace.”

The ceremony ended with Reverend Ohio Simire offering the vote of thanks, followed by closing prayers from Bishop Unuigbe. As the crowd filed out into the New Jersey afternoon, phones buzzed with notifications—the live stream had reached thousands across three continents.

Outside, a young woman approached Sunny Irakpo. She was perhaps twenty-two, her eyes red-rimmed.

“My brother overdosed last year,” she said quietly. “He was nineteen.”

Sunny placed a hand on her shoulder. “Then we do this for him,” he said. “And for all the others.”

She nodded, and for the first time that day, she smiled.

Somewhere, a SIM card connects a phone to the world. And somewhere else, a newborn magazine called SIM began connecting broken stories to hope—one page, one life, one truth at a time. Oh, what a magazine you must get with just a click from your phone at www.sim.silecinitiatives.org.ng . SILEC is rising, SILEC International Magazine, the global light.

Article contributed by Kwame Jamal

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Opinion

When Architecture of Policy Meets Architecture of Connection

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By Shakirat Akintola

For many political observers, the proposition of an Atiku-Momodu ticket represents a fascinating answer to Nigeria’s complex governance puzzle. The conversation is rapidly moving past the two personalities involved, evolving into a broader debate about national cohesion, credibility, and the precise qualities required to steady a fractured nation.

Atiku Abubakar, having recently emerged as the presidential candidate for the African Democratic Congress (ADC) following a fiercely contested and highly scrutinized nationwide primary election, remains one of the most resilient figures in Nigeria’s democratic journey. His institutional memory is vast. As the Vice President who chaired the National Economic Council during one of Nigeria’s most consequential eras of economic restructuring and privatization, he understands the levers of state policy.

Yet, in a nation fractured along regional, religious, and generational lines, policy blueprints alone are no longer enough. The opposition faces a distinct hurdle: Nigerians already know who Atiku is. The challenge is not building recognition, but establishing a genuine, empathetic connection with the deep frustrations of the grassroots. This is precisely where Aare Dele Momodu enters the equation.

To view Momodu strictly through the glamorous lens of Ovation International is to misunderstand the deliberate philosophy behind his media empire. While critics might initially mistake his chronicling of high society for elite insulation, his career has actually functioned as a masterclass in breaking down walls. For decades, Momodu did not just document success; he demystified it, bringing the corridors of power and privilege directly to the gaze of the ordinary citizen. More importantly, this deep social capital was forged in the fires of grassroots defiance. Long before he was a celebrated publisher, Momodu was a pro-democracy activist who faced detention and forced exile during the dark days of the Abacha regime for standing with the masses. His ability to navigate corporate boardrooms today is not a sign of detachment from the struggle, but a powerful asset. It means the opposition gains a communicator who can walk into spaces of immense privilege, speak truth to power in their own language, and channel that access directly back into the service of Nigeria’s markets, classrooms, and farming communities.

A Referendum on Lived Realities

The ongoing security and economic trials illustrate exactly why a balance of institutional experience and cultural reach matters. For a parent deciding between school fees and healthcare, or a trader calculating the risks of interstate highways, governance is not a theoretical debate.

The next election will not be won by campaign slogans or aggressive social media strategies. It will be decided by trust. While the ruling party scrambles to convince a strained populace that their sacrifices will yield future rewards, the opposition must present a credible, steady, and comforting alternative.

Nigeria’s future will ultimately be shaped by leaders who look beyond political echo chambers and actively listen to the markets, classrooms, and farming communities. As the country continues its difficult search for stability, the political figures capable of building a bridge between sound policy and genuine human empathy will inevitably command the attention of a nation eager to move forward.

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