The Southerner —Guest Columnist 

Wednesday, March 25, 2026

I’ll be honest with you — when I first saw the headlines about President Tinubu’s red-carpet welcome in the UK, part of me was proud. The pictures were impressive: firm handshakes, fine suits, the King of England. And then came the big announcement — a £746 million deal to refurbish two ports in Lagos.

“A major win for Nigeria,” the commentators declared. But something about it didn’t sit right with me. So I did what any concerned citizen should do — I looked closer. And what I found left me genuinely unsettled.

The deal in plain English

A British bank is going to “lend” Nigeria £746 million. The UK government’s export credit agency backs that loan — meaning if Nigeria can’t repay, the British taxpayer covers it. On the surface, that sounds generous, almost like goodwill.

But here is the part they glossed over in the celebrations. The loan comes tied to a condition: at least 20% of all contracts — that is, no less than £236 million — must go to British companies. Of that, £70 million must be spent specifically on British steel. We are told, with some pride, that this is the largest steel export that particular British company has ever made.

Read that again slowly. We are borrowing £746 million. Then we are obligated to send at least £236 million of that borrowed money straight back to the UK — to pay British businesses, British workers, and British steel plants. And we will still pay interest on the full amount for years to come.

This is not a partnership. It is a transaction. And we are the ones who will be carrying the debt long after the ribbon-cutting ceremony is forgotten.

The need to fix the ports

We absolutely do. Apapa and Tin Can Island are a daily nightmare. I know people — drivers, clearing agents, business owners — who spend days just trying to move a single container. Goods spoil. Businesses bleed money quietly. It is a genuine crisis and no reasonable person disputes that.

My question, though, is this: why Lagos again?Nigeria has ports in Warri, Koko, Port Harcourt, and Calabar — gateways to the oil-rich South-South, the farming heartlands of the East, and the trade corridors leading to the North. Most of them are barely breathing. Some are practically derelict. Rather than invest in those neglected regions, we are taking on foreign debt to pile yet more activity into a city that is already choking on congestion.

Picture this: a truck heading from Calabar to Maiduguri that no longer has to pass through Apapa. A farmer in the East who can ship her produce directly through Port Harcourt. The jobs that would create — not in London, but in our own communities across this country.

That is what balanced national development looks like. That is not what this deal delivers.

Meanwhile, Our Lights Are Still Out

Here is the uncomfortable truth we need to sit with: even if the Lagos ports become world-class tomorrow, what exactly does that achieve when businesses across Nigeria cannot get eight hours of reliable electricity?

Every day, Nigerian manufacturers shut down because diesel has become too expensive to sustain. Small businesses that should be growing are instead spending their profits running generators. Hospitals operate under flickering light. This is not normal, and it is not something we simply have to accept as our portion.

Now consider this carefully: £746 million, directed strategically, could serve as serious seed capital to begin tackling our power crisis. It could help complete stalled grid projects, unlock gas-to-power solutions, or support solar energy expansion for rural and underserved communities.

Instead, we are taking on fresh debt — debt that will largely pay for British steel and British jobs — while our energy sector continues to gasp for air.

What other countries do differently

While some in government and their supporters are celebrating this as a diplomatic triumph, countries like India and Vietnam have been playing a completely different game. They have made a deliberate shift from being perpetual borrowers to becoming strategic partners — using smarter financial structures to build world-class infrastructure without surrendering control of their economies.

India’s asset recycling model

Rather than taking on new loans to fix ageing infrastructure, India adopted a strategy called asset monetisation.

The government identifies mature, revenue-generating assets — an existing highway, a busy port — and leases the rights to collect income from those assets to global institutional investors: Canadian pension funds, Gulf sovereign wealth funds, and others.

These investors pay a large upfront sum for that right. The government gets the cash immediately, without adding a single naira equivalent to its national debt. That money is then recycled into building new infrastructure.

Crucially, the risk transfers to the private sector. If port traffic falls, the government is not stuck servicing a loan — the investors absorb the loss.

Vietnam’s competitive PPP framework

Vietnam overhauled its Public-Private Partnership law with one deliberate goal: no single country should be able to dominate its infrastructure contracts.

Their framework uses Build-Operate-Transfer and Build-Transfer-Lease models, with a built-in revenue risk-sharing mechanism. If a project exceeds income projections, the government takes a share of the upside. If it underperforms, the government provides partial support — but only where the project meets strict efficiency benchmarks. This structure has simultaneously attracted quality investors from Japan, South Korea, and Western nations.

By making every contract competitive, Vietnam ensured that no lender could ever insert a clause requiring “20% of work must go to our companies.” The best technology at the best price wins. Full stop.

The bigger picture: Equity over debt

Both countries have consciously moved toward Foreign Direct Investment rather than export-credit loans.

When a major investor buys equity in a port, they are not lending money — they are risking their own capital. They build the infrastructure and profit from its success. The host country gets world-class infrastructure and genuine skills transfer. Not a single dollar is added to the national debt. If the project fails, the investor loses their money — not the taxpayer.

Now contrast that with what Nigeria just signed. We will repay £746 million — plus interest — regardless of whether the Lagos ports actually improve or not.

I have seen this movie before

What tends to happen after such projects are built? If history across Africa is any guide, “experts” arrive from the lending country. They recommend restructuring, suggest tariff adjustments, or advise that management be handed over to foreign firms — very possibly the same ones that built the facility. We are then guided, firmly but politely, on how to service the debt. And we comply, because that is precisely how tied loans are designed to work.

It is a familiar script. Borrow money to buy their goods. Then bring in advisors to help manage the repayment. The lender’s economy grows. The borrower remains dependent. The cycle continues.

So What Should We Be Doing Instead?

I am not arguing against fixing our ports. We must fix them — urgently. But we should do it on our own terms.

• Use our own capital. Nigerian pension funds and domestic institutional investors are sitting on trillions of naira seeking safe, productive long-term investments. Port rehabilitation, structured as a naira-denominated project, could keep that wealth working here at home.

• Demand genuine local content. If external financing is unavoidable, it must require Nigerian companies to execute the work — and it must mandate real technology transfer. Not British steel. Our steel.

• Spread development across the country. Invest seriously in Warri, Port Harcourt, and Calabar. Decongest Lagos and open up every region. That is how you create jobs and opportunity beyond one city.

• Make power the national priority it deserves to be. Nothing — no port, no factory, no small business — can thrive without reliable electricity. Everything else is secondary.

• Borrow the model, not the money. Study how India and Vietnam approach these deals. Treat infrastructure as a business transaction where we set the terms — not as a favour where the foreign party is the benefactor.

A final word

I have no quarrel with foreign partnerships. I welcome genuine investment. But I am tired — deeply tired — of watching Nigeria celebrate deals that are designed, structurally, to benefit the other side more than us.

We are not naive. We are a nation of hardworking, resourceful, resilient people. We deserve infrastructure that serves our development, not foreign balance sheets. We deserve leaders who ask the hard questions before the pen touches paper.

India and Vietnam have shown that there is a better way. They sit at the table as principals, not as supplicants. Nigeria, in this instance, came to the table differently.

So before the next diplomatic photo opportunity is declared a “win,” let us ask the questions that matter. Who is lending? Who is building? Who pays in the end? And who is truly benefiting?

Let us pray for this country. And let us keep demanding better of those who lead it.

Matthew Onokpasa C.Eng, DFAI, is a Nigerian engineer and concerned citizen..