Real roots of Nigeria’s slow progress

By Idowu Ephraim Faleye

If we look back honestly at Nigeria’s early years, we will see that many of the people we praise as heroes were actually major contributors to the country’s underdevelopment, instability, and inability to match the progress of nations that began their journey at the same time. This is not because they were bad people.

It is because they were too young, too inexperienced, and too unprepared for the heavy responsibilities they forcefully took upon themselves.

From the mid-1960s, Nigeria fell under the rule of very young military officers. They were energetic, brave, disciplined, and confident, but they lacked the maturity and experience required to govern a complex and diverse country like Nigeria.

Most of these officers were between 25 and 32 years old—unmarried, full of youthful exuberance, and fresh graduates of military institutions. Their training focused on combat and discipline, but this was not sufficient for managing an economy or building a nation. This is one of the roots of Nigeria’s early setbacks.

The first major turning point was the 1966 coup led by Kaduna Nzeogwu. He was charismatic, intelligent, and bold, but extremely young. Although his action was driven by frustration with corruption, it set off a chain reaction that plunged Nigeria into instability. The counter-coup that followed deepened ethnic tensions and created wounds that have not fully healed to this day.

Then came General Yakubu Gowon, who became Head of State at just about 31. He neither planned nor prepared for it; power simply fell into his hands during one of the most sensitive periods in Nigeria’s history.

His youthfulness showed in many ways. He later admitted that he was unprepared for leadership and overwhelmed by the volume of money at his disposal. As a bachelor, he suddenly found himself ruling a vast nation sliding into civil war.

His government relied heavily on older and more experienced figures such as Chief Obafemi Awolowo, who became the backbone of major decisions in finance and administration. This dependence alone highlights the huge gap between Gowon’s military training and the demands of governing a diverse nation.

In the Eastern Region, Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu—another young officer—also stepped into a political role that demanded far more experience than he possessed. His disagreement with the Federal Government, shaped by the tensions of the moment and the youthful defiance common in that era, played a significant role in the outbreak of the civil war.

The war, which lasted thirty months, cost countless lives, damaged trust between ethnic groups, and dramatically slowed national development.

Even after the war, Nigeria did not escape the cycle of youthful military rule. General Murtala Mohammed came in with energy and force. His urgency inspired hope in many Nigerians, but his style reflected the speed and pressure of military life rather than long-term planning. Although his time in office was short, it still fit the same pattern—bold leadership without the deep administrative and economic planning that nation-building requires.

He was succeeded by General Olusegun Obasanjo, also a relatively young officer. He was more organized and patient than his predecessors—partly because he was nearing 40—yet he still belonged to the same era of military rule led by young men with more command experience than governance experience.

Although he eventually handed over power to civilians, the structural damage caused in earlier years had already slowed Nigeria’s development trajectory.

When you examine the period between 1966 and 1979, it becomes clear that Nigeria was not led by seasoned statesmen. Instead, the country was ruled by young officers who had courage but lacked the maturity, exposure, and ideological clarity needed to build strong institutions.

They issued decrees instead of policies. They reacted to problems rather than planning for them. They governed like conquerors, not administrators. And while Nigeria was experimenting with coups, decrees, and military councils, other nations at the same level of development took a very different path.

Countries such as India, Malaysia, and Singapore were led by older, more experienced leaders who had deep knowledge of governance, economics, and administration.

These nations invested in long-term development plans. Their leaders strengthened civil institutions, encouraged industrialization, expanded education, and promoted national identity. They had ideologies and blueprints that guided their countries for decades.

Meanwhile, Nigeria was being reset every few years by coups—each bringing a new group of young officers with no developmental roadmap. The focus shifted from national planning to power struggles. Instead of building systems, we built decrees. Instead of stable institutions, we had military councils. Instead of long-term goals, we had short-term reactions. This is why Nigeria could not keep pace with its counterparts.

The argument that a national leader should ideally be at least 45 to 50 years old becomes clear in this context. At that age, a person has more maturity, broader experience, and better judgment.

Leadership at the national level requires patience, diplomacy, emotional intelligence, and knowledge gained from years of exposure. Young military officers, no matter how brilliant, simply do not possess that level of experience.

Someone who becomes a military officer at 22 or 23 and rises quickly through the ranks by 29 or 35 may be skilled in command, but national governance is a completely different responsibility. Command depends on obedience and hierarchy.

Governance depends on dialogue, inclusion, negotiation, economics, planning, and long-term thinking. These are not skills learned through drills or battlefield strategy. They are gained through life experience.

This is why the youthful officers who ruled Nigeria, though courageous, ended up causing long-term setbacks. They lacked the ideological depth to define what Nigeria should become. They lacked the economic knowledge to build a strong foundation. They lacked the patience needed to negotiate Nigeria’s complex ethnic landscape. Their decisions—shaped by youthful confidence—created structural weaknesses that we still battle today.

It is important to emphasize: they were not evil. Many genuinely believed they were saving the country. Many acted with sincerity. But good intentions do not automatically produce good governance. Nation-building requires experience, wisdom, and the ability to plan beyond the moment.

Nigeria was slowed down because it was led too early by people who had not lived long enough to understand the deep demands of leadership. While Malaysia, India, Singapore, and others were establishing long-term direction, Nigeria was moving from one coup to another, from one decree to the next.

We celebrate these early military figures as heroes, but we must also acknowledge that their inexperience contributed heavily to the challenges we live with today. Their bravery does not erase the long-term damage caused by their youthful decisions.

If we want Nigeria to rise, we must learn from this history. We must demand leaders with experience, maturity, and a clear plan for the country. A nation cannot grow on courage alone; it grows on knowledge, stability, and long-term vision. Only then can Nigeria move in the direction it should have taken decades ago.

Faleye | EphraimHill DataBlog – Freelance Writer, Independent Stories, Data-Driven Insights