Few things stir public anger faster than the suggestion that money meant for development is being deliberately locked away for political convenience. That is precisely the atmosphere in which Governor Seyi Makinde of Oyo State made his explosive claim at the 2027 Budget Stakeholders’ Consultative Engagement in Ibadan. Standing before an audience that included community leaders, civil servants, and ordinary citizens hoping to hear about plans for the coming year, the governor said each state was supposed to receive N250 billion as its share of Nigeria LNG (NLNG) dividends, but that the Federal Government had decided to withhold the payment until after the 2027 general elections. He even said his administration had already identified projects that would expand Oyo State’s economy with that money. Then he asked a devastating question: “Is the election more important than the people of Nigeria?” For many Nigerians who have grown used to hearing about resources being trapped in opaque federal structures, that question sounded painfully familiar. It seemed to confirm their worst fears about a government that might prioritize its own survival over the welfare of citizens. But the claim, as sensational as it was, was not supported by any document. And when the figures were actually examined, they appeared to fall apart very quickly.
The Presidency responded with unusual speed and firmness. Bayo Onanuga, the Special Adviser to President Bola Tinubu on Information and Strategy, dismissed Makinde’s statement as false and challenged the governor to provide verifiable facts. He then took Nigerians through the arithmetic that makes the claim almost impossible to believe. If each of the 36 states were to receive N250 billion, the total amount would be N9 trillion. That enormous figure covers only the states; it does not include the Federal Government’s share, the Federal Capital Territory’s share, or the 774 local government areas. Under the Federation Account Allocation Committee (FAAC) revenue-sharing formula, states are entitled to only 26.72 percent of distributable revenue. If the states were to collectively receive N9 trillion from a single NLNG dividend declaration, the total payout into the Federation Account would have to be more than N33.68 trillion, which is roughly equivalent to $25 billion. The Presidency argued that this is utterly inconsistent with NLNG’s history. No such dividend payment has ever been made by the company in a single declaration, and it is difficult to imagine how any reasonable person could believe that a private company with global investors would make a single payout of that size, especially when the Federal Government itself is only a part-owner. In simple terms, the claim did not survive contact with the numbers.
To put the controversy into context, the history of NLNG dividends makes the governor’s allegation look even more improbable. NLNG is one of Nigeria’s most successful commercial enterprises, and it has generated substantial revenue over the years. But no single year has ever seen the kind of payout that Makinde described. The Presidency noted that NLNG has paid approximately $21.5 billion in dividends to the Federation over the last 25 years, and less than $3 billion of that amount has been realized since President Tinubu assumed office. This is not a company that routinely hands out trillion-naira windfalls. In July, NLNG’s Chief Executive Officer, Adeleye Falade, revealed that the company had paid a total of $47.2 billion in dividends to all of its shareholders, including the Federal Government, from revenue of $149.6 billion since operations began. It is a remarkable record, but it is spread over decades and across multiple shareholders. Looking at specific annual payments paints an even clearer picture: NNPC, the government’s shareholder, received about $1.39 billion in 2014, $722.44 million in 2021, and $1.10 billion in 2022. Even in the most profitable years, the amounts were nowhere close to what would be required to give every state in Nigeria N250 billion. The Federal Government owns 49 percent of NLNG, a significant stake, but not a majority that would allow it to treat the company’s dividend declarations as a political weapon. If Makinde had genuine access to any document showing such a historic dividend, it would have been easy for him to share it. Instead, the Presidency had to remind the public that the figures simply do not match reality.
Makinde’s statement cannot be fully understood without considering his political ambitions. He is not just a governor speaking out on behalf of his people; he is also a presidential candidate for the Allied People’s Movement (APM) with an interest in challenging the current federal government in 2027. His recent public statements have become increasingly critical, and the Presidency did not hesitate to point out that he has a history of making misleading claims since he began pursuing the presidency. Onanuga recalled that Makinde had previously described the substantial financial allocations flowing from the Federation Account to states, including Oyo, as “voodoo.” That choice of words angered many who saw it as an insult to the transparency of federal finances, while others viewed it as political mischief. The debate over the N250 billion dividend is therefore part of a larger pattern. Makinde’s question, “Is the election more important than the people of Nigeria?” is a powerful rhetorical move, but it is not evidence. In a democracy, opposition candidates must be allowed to question the government, to press for accountability, and to offer an alternative vision. But when they use unverified figures in public forums, they risk misleading citizens and turning legitimate political debate into a carnival of disinformation. The Presidency was careful to acknowledge Makinde’s constitutional right to pursue his ambition, but it also stressed that he should not build his campaign on falsehoods. It is a reasonable demand. Political speech, no matter how passionate, should not be allowed to distort public understanding of things as important as national revenue.
There is also a much broader financial context that makes the governor’s claim difficult to swallow. Between January and June of this year, the 36 states collectively received N4.83 trillion from the Federation Account. Oyo State alone received N147.32 billion during that same period. That is real money, flowing through transparent and well-known allocation mechanisms, with records that are published and scrutinized. It may not be as dramatic as a sudden N250 billion windfall, but it is the actual system by which revenue is shared among Nigeria’s federal and state governments. The total allocation to all states over six months, N4.83 trillion, is already an enormous sum, yet it is still far below the N9 trillion that would be needed to fulfill Makinde’s claim. In other words, the entire amount received by all 36 states in half a year is roughly half of what the governor says should have been distributed to states in one secret payment. That is not a small discrepancy; it is a difference of billions of dollars. Any governor who believed such money was genuinely due would be able to point to correspondence, meeting minutes, bank notifications, or official NLNG records. Instead, Makinde offered only a vague assertion at a stakeholder meeting, accompanied by an emotionally charged appeal. The Presidency’s response was not simply political defensiveness. It was an invitation to check the math, to ask uncomfortable questions, and to demand that public figures be held to a standard of truth.
In the end, this episode is about more than one governor’s claim or one president’s denial. It is about the relationship between power and information in a democracy. Nigerians are watching, and many are tired of being used as pawns in political games. The 2027 election is still ahead, and there is nothing wrong with candidates campaigning hard, making promises, and criticizing the government. But when extraordinary claims are made, they should be backed by extraordinary evidence. The Presidency has challenged Makinde to come forward with verifiable facts. That is the right challenge. It should also work the other way: if the federal government has documentary evidence that no such payment exists, it should be willing to share it openly, because citizens have a right to know. The debate over the N250 billion NLNG dividend may fade, but the question of who is telling the truth will not. Nigerians deserve leaders who speak to them with honesty, not leaders who invent money stories for political advantage. They deserve a press that interrogates claims, and they deserve a government that responds with facts rather than insults. At its heart, this strange NLNG story is a mirror of the country’s deeper condition: a place where big numbers can be thrown around carelessly, where trust is scarce, and where ordinary people are often left to wonder whether they are being treated as citizens or as spectators. The only way to move forward is to demand evidence, to value accuracy over drama, and to remember that public office, whether held by a governor or a president, is a trust that must never be abused by fiction.