Palliative Are Meant For Poor Nigerians, But It Seems They’re Not Getting It, Then Who’s Collecting It?

BY ISAAC ASABOR

In times of economic hardship, natural disasters, or pandemics, governments worldwide employ palliatives to alleviate the suffering of their citizens, particularly the most vulnerable.

Nigeria, with its vast population and significant wealth disparities, has had its share of such interventions. From the COVID-19 pandemic to the current economic crisis, palliatives, including food, cash transfers, and essential commodities, have been touted as a lifeline for millions of struggling Nigerians. Yet, many citizens continue to lament their exclusion from these programs, raising a critical question: if palliatives are meant for poor Nigerians, why do they rarely reach them? Who, then, is benefiting?

Palliatives, by definition, are measures intended to provide temporary relief to individuals facing hardship. In Nigeria, the government has repeatedly emphasized that these interventions are designed to cushion the effects of economic shocks, such as fuel subsidy removal or inflation. Programs such as the distribution of foodstuffs, conditional cash transfers, and micro-loans are ostensibly targeted at those living below the poverty line.

For instance, during the COVID-19 lockdown, the Nigerian government claimed to have distributed food items and cash to millions of vulnerable households. Similarly, the removal of fuel subsidies prompted another wave of promised relief packages, including N8,000 monthly cash transfers to poor households and the distribution of rice and fertilizers. Yet, the impact of these interventions remains largely invisible to the people they are supposed to serve.
The frustration of ordinary Nigerians is palpable. A visit to markets and rural communities reveals stories of despair and alienation. Many citizens claim they have never received any form of government aid, despite being the primary targets of these programs.

Mummy Ebuka, a market woman in Lagos, sums up the sentiment succinctly: “Every time dem dey tell us dem dey share, na who dem dey give? All this talk of rice and money wey dem dey share, e dey reach who?” Her lamentation captures the growing disillusionment among Nigerians who feel ignored by a system that is supposed to prioritize them.

Without a doubt, several factors might have been contributing to the failure of palliatives to reach the intended beneficiaries.

One of such factors could be corruption and mismanagement. Corruption might have arguably been the most significant factor undermining the distribution of palliatives. Numerous reports suggest that officials divert funds and goods meant for the poor. During the COVID-19 pandemic, warehouses stocked with undistributed food items were discovered in various states, sparking public outrage.

Another likely factor is poor targeting mechanisms. The reason for the foregoing conjecture cannot be farfetched as identifying and reaching the genuinely poor could be a significant challenge. This is because many palliative programs rely on outdated or incomplete data, leading to the inclusion of ineligible individuals while excluding the truly needy.

Another reason why palliatives do not get for the people they are meant for could be the politicization of distribution: In many cases, rumours are rife that palliatives are distributed along party lines, with ruling party members or loyalists given priority. This practice, if true, not only skews the distribution process but also deepens public distrust.
Another reason could be a lack of transparency. This is because the absence of accountability mechanisms makes it difficult to track how funds and resources are allocated. Reports of inflated beneficiary lists and ghost recipients abound, further eroding confidence in these programmes.

Finally, it could be systemic Inefficiencies. The foregoing reason cannot be pooh-poohed in this context by a mere wave of the hands, as bureaucratic bottlenecks and logistical challenges also play a role in undermining palliative distribution. Delays, inadequate storage facilities, and poorly planned distribution methods exacerbate the problem.

When palliatives fail to reach their intended recipients, the human cost is devastating, particularly as millions of Nigerians are grappling with the effects of soaring inflation, high unemployment, and dwindling purchasing power. Not only that, necessities such as food, healthcare, and education have become luxuries for many families.

Consider the case of Baba Wale, a father of four at Mowe in Ogun State. Despite being unemployed and living in a dilapidated one-room apartment, Baba Wale’s family has never benefited from any government palliative program. “We hear of rice and money being shared, but we’ve never seen it,” he laments.

Baba Wale’s story is emblematic of the struggles faced by millions of Nigerians left behind by a system riddled with inefficiencies and corruption.

If the poor are not getting the palliatives, then who is? Evidence suggests that the primary beneficiaries are often those with political connections or those involved in the distribution process. Local government officials, party loyalists, and even middlemen have been accused of hoarding or selling palliatives meant for the poor.

This phenomenon underscores the pervasive inequality and lack of accountability in the system. The people who need help the least often end up benefiting the most, while those who are truly vulnerable remain in the cold.
Given the foregoing viewpoints, it is expedient to suggest in this context that to ensure that palliatives reach the intended beneficiaries the government, at all tiers, must address the systemic issues undermining the effectiveness of palliative distributions.

First and foremost, the government, at all levels, should adopt technology for transparency. Leveraging technology can help streamline the distribution process. For instance, digital payment systems, biometric registration, and centralized databases can reduce corruption and improve targeting.

Secondly, there is an urgent need to strengthen oversight mechanisms. This is because independent monitoring and evaluation frameworks are crucial for ensuring accountability. Therefore, civil society organizations, community leaders, and the media should be involved in tracking the distribution of palliatives.
Thirdly, the government should ensure that Improved data collection is put in place. Without a doubt, accurate and up-to-date data on vulnerable populations is essential for effective targeting. Therefore, the government should collaborate with local and international organizations to develop comprehensive databases.

Fourthly, the distribution of palliatives should be depoliticized. Palliatives should be distributed based on need, not political affiliation. Given the foregoing, it is germane to suggest that establishing non-partisan agencies to oversee distribution can help achieve this goal.
In a similar vein, there is the need to engage communities. Involving community leaders and grassroots organizations in the planning and implementation of palliative programs can improve their reach and impact.
Without a doubt, palliatives are a vital tool for alleviating the suffering of Nigeria’s poorest citizens. However, the persistent failure to deliver these resources to their intended recipients calls for urgent reform. The question of “Who is getting it?” must be answered with transparency, accountability, and a commitment to equity.

As Nigeria grapples with its current economic challenges, ensuring that palliatives reach the truly needy is not just a matter of policy; it is a moral imperative.

The government must rise to the occasion, restoring trust and hope among the millions of Nigerians who feel abandoned by a system meant to protect them.

Seems They Don’t Get It, Then Who’s

Palliatives Are Meant For Poor Nigerians, But It Seems They’re Not Getting It, Then Who’s Collecting It?

BY ISAAC ASABOR

In times of economic hardship, natural disasters, or pandemics, governments worldwide employ palliatives to alleviate the suffering of their citizens, particularly the most vulnerable. Nigeria, with its vast population and significant wealth disparities, has had its share of such interventions. From the COVID-19 pandemic to the current economic crisis, palliatives, including food, cash transfers, and essential commodities, have been touted as a lifeline for millions of struggling Nigerians. Yet, many citizens continue to lament their exclusion from these programs, raising a critical question: if palliatives are meant for poor Nigerians, why do they rarely reach them? Who, then, is benefiting?
Palliatives, by definition, are measures intended to provide temporary relief to individuals facing hardship. In Nigeria, the government has repeatedly emphasized that these interventions are designed to cushion the effects of economic shocks, such as fuel subsidy removal or inflation. Programs such as the distribution of foodstuffs, conditional cash transfers, and micro-loans are ostensibly targeted at those living below the poverty line.
For instance, during the COVID-19 lockdown, the Nigerian government claimed to have distributed food items and cash to millions of vulnerable households. Similarly, the removal of fuel subsidies prompted another wave of promised relief packages, including N8,000 monthly cash transfers to poor households and the distribution of rice and fertilizers. Yet, the impact of these interventions remains largely invisible to the people they are supposed to serve.
The frustration of ordinary Nigerians is palpable. A visit to markets and rural communities reveals stories of despair and alienation. Many citizens claim they have never received any form of government aid, despite being the primary targets of these programs.
Mummy Ebuka, a market woman in Lagos, sums up the sentiment succinctly: “Every time dem dey tell us dem dey share, na who dem dey give? All this talk of rice and money wey dem dey share, e dey reach who?” Her lamentation captures the growing disillusionment among Nigerians who feel ignored by a system that is supposed to prioritize them.
Without a doubt, several factors might have been contributing to the failure of palliatives to reach the intended beneficiaries.
One of such factors could be corruption and mismanagement. Corruption might have arguably been the most significant factor undermining the distribution of palliatives. Numerous reports suggest that officials divert funds and goods meant for the poor. During the COVID-19 pandemic, warehouses stocked with undistributed food items were discovered in various states, sparking public outrage.
Another likely factor is poor targeting mechanisms. The reason for the foregoing conjecture cannot be farfetched as identifying and reaching the genuinely poor could be a significant challenge. This is because many palliative programs rely on outdated or incomplete data, leading to the inclusion of ineligible individuals while excluding the truly needy.
Another reason why palliatives do not get for the people they are meant for could be the politicization of distribution: In many cases, rumours are rife that palliatives are distributed along party lines, with ruling party members or loyalists given priority. This practice, if true, not only skews the distribution process but also deepens public distrust.
Another reason could be a lack of transparency. This is because the absence of accountability mechanisms makes it difficult to track how funds and resources are allocated. Reports of inflated beneficiary lists and ghost recipients abound, further eroding confidence in these programs.
Finally, it could be systemic Inefficiencies. The foregoing reason cannot be pooh-poohed in this context by a mere wave of the hands, as bureaucratic bottlenecks and logistical challenges also play a role in undermining palliative distribution. Delays, inadequate storage facilities, and poorly planned distribution methods exacerbate the problem.
When palliatives fail to reach their intended recipients, the human cost is devastating, particularly as millions of Nigerians are grappling with the effects of soaring inflation, high unemployment, and dwindling purchasing power. Not only that, necessities such as food, healthcare, and education have become luxuries for many families.
Consider the case of Baba Wale, a father of four at Mowe in Ogun State. Despite being unemployed and living in a dilapidated one-room apartment, Baba Wale’s family has never benefited from any government palliative program. “We hear of rice and money being shared, but we’ve never seen it,” he laments. Baba Wale’s story is emblematic of the struggles faced by millions of Nigerians left behind by a system riddled with inefficiencies and corruption.
If the poor are not getting the palliatives, then who is? Evidence suggests that the primary beneficiaries are often those with political connections or those involved in the distribution process. Local government officials, party loyalists, and even middlemen have been accused of hoarding or selling palliatives meant for the poor.
This phenomenon underscores the pervasive inequality and lack of accountability in the system. The people who need help the least often end up benefiting the most, while those who are truly vulnerable remain in the cold.
Given the foregoing viewpoints, it is expedient to suggest in this context that to ensure that palliatives reach the intended beneficiaries the government, at all tiers, must address the systemic issues undermining the effectiveness of palliative distributions.
First and foremost, the government, at all levels, should adopt technology for transparency. Leveraging technology can help streamline the distribution process. For instance, digital payment systems, biometric registration, and centralized databases can reduce corruption and improve targeting.
Secondly, there is an urgent need to strengthen oversight mechanisms. This is because independent monitoring and evaluation frameworks are crucial for ensuring accountability. Therefore, civil society organizations, community leaders, and the media should be involved in tracking the distribution of palliatives.
Thirdly, the government should ensure that Improved data collection is put in place. Without a doubt, accurate and up-to-date data on vulnerable populations is essential for effective targeting. Therefore, the government should collaborate with local and international organizations to develop comprehensive databases.
Fourthly, the distribution of palliatives should be depoliticized. Palliatives should be distributed based on need, not political affiliation. Given the foregoing, it is germane to suggest that establishing non-partisan agencies to oversee distribution can help achieve this goal.
In a similar vein, there is the need to engage communities. Involving community leaders and grassroots organizations in the planning and implementation of palliative programs can improve their reach and impact.
Without a doubt, palliatives are a vital tool for alleviating the suffering of Nigeria’s poorest citizens. However, the persistent failure to deliver these resources to their intended recipients calls for urgent reform. The question of “Who is getting it?” must be answered with transparency, accountability, and a commitment to equity.
As Nigeria grapples with its current economic challenges, ensuring that palliatives reach the truly needy is not just a matter of policy; it is a moral imperative. The government must rise to the occasion, restoring trust and hope among the millions of Nigerians who feel abandoned by a system meant to protect them. Seems They Don’t Get It, Then Who’s Getting It?

BY ISAAC ASABOR

In times of economic hardship, natural disasters, or pandemics, governments worldwide employ palliatives to alleviate the suffering of their citizens, particularly the most vulnerable. Nigeria, with its vast population and significant wealth disparities, has had its share of such interventions. From the COVID-19 pandemic to the current economic crisis, palliatives, including food, cash transfers, and essential commodities, have been touted as a lifeline for millions of struggling Nigerians. Yet, many citizens continue to lament their exclusion from these programs, raising a critical question: if palliatives are meant for poor Nigerians, why do they rarely reach them? Who, then, is benefiting?
Palliatives, by definition, are measures intended to provide temporary relief to individuals facing hardship. In Nigeria, the government has repeatedly emphasized that these interventions are designed to cushion the effects of economic shocks, such as fuel subsidy removal or inflation. Programs such as the distribution of foodstuffs, conditional cash transfers, and micro-loans are ostensibly targeted at those living below the poverty line.
For instance, during the COVID-19 lockdown, the Nigerian government claimed to have distributed food items and cash to millions of vulnerable households. Similarly, the removal of fuel subsidies prompted another wave of promised relief packages, including N8,0000 monthly cash transfers to poor households and the distribution of rice and fertilizers. Yet, the impact of these interventions remains largely invisible to the people they are supposed to serve.
The frustration of ordinary Nigerians is palpable. A visit to markets and rural communities reveals stories of despair and alienation. Many citizens claim they have never received any form of government aid, despite being the primary targets of these programs.
Mummy Ebuka, a market woman in Lagos, sums up the sentiment succinctly: “Every time dem dey tell us dem dey share, na who dem dey give? All this talk of rice and money wey dem dey share, e dey reach who?” Her lamentation captures the growing disillusionment among Nigerians who feel ignored by a system that is supposed to prioritize them.
Without a doubt, several factors might have been contributing to the failure of palliatives to reach the intended beneficiaries.
One of such factors could be corruption and mismanagement. Corruption might have arguably been the most significant factor undermining the distribution of palliatives. Numerous reports suggest that officials divert funds and goods meant for the poor. During the COVID-19 pandemic, warehouses stocked with undistributed food items were discovered in various states, sparking public outrage.
Another likely factor is poor targeting mechanisms. The reason for the foregoing conjecture cannot be farfetched as identifying and reaching the genuinely poor could be a significant challenge. This is because many palliative programs rely on outdated or incomplete data, leading to the inclusion of ineligible individuals while excluding the truly needy.
Another reason why palliatives do not get for the people they are meant for could be the politicization of distribution: In many cases, rumours are rife that palliatives are distributed along party lines, with ruling party members or loyalists given priority. This practice, if true, not only skews the distribution process but also deepens public distrust.
Another reason could be a lack of transparency. This is because the absence of accountability mechanisms makes it difficult to track how funds and resources are allocated. Reports of inflated beneficiary lists and ghost recipients abound, further eroding confidence in these programs.
Finally, it could be systemic Inefficiencies. The foregoing reason cannot be pooh-poohed in this context by a mere wave of the hand, as bureaucratic bottlenecks and logistical challenges also play a role in undermining palliative distribution. Delays, inadequate storage facilities, and poorly planned distribution methods exacerbate the problem. When palliatives fail to reach their intended recipients, the human cost is devastating, particularly as millions of Nigerians are grappling with the effects of soaring inflation, high unemployment, and dwindling purchasing power. Not only that, necessities such as food, healthcare, and education have become luxuries for many families.
Consider the case of Baba Wale, a father of four at Mowe in Ogun State. Despite being unemployed and living in a dilapidated one-room apartment, Baba Wale’s family has never benefited from any government palliative program. “We hear of rice and money being shared, but we’ve never seen it,” he laments. Baba Wale’s story is emblematic of the struggles faced by millions of Nigerians left behind by a system riddled with inefficiencies and corruption.
If the poor are not getting the palliatives, then who is? Evidence suggests that the primary beneficiaries are often those with political connections or those involved in the distribution process. Local government officials, party loyalists, and even middlemen have been accused of hoarding or selling palliatives meant for the poor.
This phenomenon underscores the pervasive inequality and lack of accountability in the system. The people who need help the least often end up benefiting the most, while those who are truly vulnerable remain in the cold.
Given the foregoing viewpoints, it is expedient to suggest in this context that to ensure that palliatives reach the intended beneficiaries the government, at all tiers, must address the systemic issues undermining the effectiveness of palliative distributions.
First and foremost, the government, at all levels, should adopt technology for transparency. Leveraging technology can help streamline the distribution process. For instance, digital payment systems, biometric registration, and centralized databases can reduce corruption and improve targeting.
Secondly, there is an urgent need to strengthen oversight mechanisms. This is because independent monitoring and evaluation frameworks are crucial for ensuring accountability. Therefore, civil society organizations, community leaders, and the media should be involved in tracking the distribution of palliatives.
Thirdly, the government should ensure that improved data collection is put in place. Without a doubt, accurate and up-to-date data on vulnerable populations is essential for effective targeting. Therefore, the government should collaborate with local and international organizations to develop comprehensive databases.
Fourthly, the distribution of palliatives should be depoliticized. Palliative should be distributed based on need, not political affiliation. Given the foregoing, it is germane to suggest that establishing non-partisan agencies to oversee distribution can help achieve this goal.
In a similar vein, there is the need to engage communities. Involving community leaders and grassroots organizations in the planning and implementation of palliative programs can improve their reach and impact.
Without a doubt, palliatives are a vital tool for alleviating the suffering of Nigeria’s poorest citizens. However, the persistent failure to deliver these resources to their intended recipients calls for urgent reform. The question of “Who is getting it?” must be answered with transparency, accountability, and a commitment to equity.
As Nigeria grapples with its current economic challenges, ensuring that palliatives reach the truly needy is not just a matter of policy; it is a moral imperative. The government must rise to the occasion, restoring trust and hope among the millions of Nigerians who feel abandoned by a system meant to protect them.