By Boluwatife Adedokun
When Olufunmilayo Fadipe counted her earnings at the close of business on Independence Day, it didn’t even reach ₦2,000. Her eyes lingered on the few sachets of milk and sugar left unsold.
“I came here since morning,” she said, speaking in Yoruba, her tone low and tired. “People only come to price, nobody is buying. My children are at home, I don’t even know what they will eat tonight.”
The 45-year-old provision seller in Magboro Market, Ogun state said her family’s survival now depends on rationing , cutting meals, borrowing little money from neighbors, and buying goods on credit to restock her stall.
“Before, I could save small money after market,” she continued, gesturing toward the half-empty shelf. “Now, I sell just to replace what I sold yesterday. Nothing remains for me again.”
For Fadipe, and dozens of women like her, Nigeria’s 65th Independence anniversary brought no reason to celebrate. While flags waved and speeches echoed across the country, Magboro Market — like thousands of others nationwide — was filled with sighs, empty pockets, and a question that weighed heavier than the sun overhead: What exactly are we celebrating?
“This Independence, We Are Only Free by Name”
At one corner of the market is also Rasheedat Jimoh, a pepper seller from Ede, Osun State, who wiped sweat from her forehead as she arranged a few bowls of red and green pepper on a table. Her hands were stained with palm oil, her face strained with worry.
“Before subsidy removal, I could go to Mile 12 and buy one bag for ₦6,000,” she said. “Now it’s ₦18,000 , and that’s even if the truck doesn’t break down or they don’t collect money from us on the road. I spend more on transport than what I gain.”
Jimoh said the situation worsened after the Federal Government removed fuel subsidy in May 2023 — a policy that, according to her, “changed everything overnight.”
“Transport went up, market price went up, even the bag we use to pack pepper increased,” she said. “How do you explain that to a woman who earns ₦2,000 in a day? This Independence, we are only free by name. Hunger has made us slaves again.”
A Nation Still Struggling for True Freedom
It has been 65 years since Nigeria gained independence, yet the cries from markets like Magboro echo a painful truth, the promise of freedom remains incomplete.
According to the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS, 2024), over 133 million Nigerians — 63% of the population, live in multidimensional poverty. Food inflation is above 35%, with transport and fuel costs at record highs
The World Bank (2023) reported that subsidy removal pushed millions into “new poverty,” as food and transport costs eroded purchasing power.
Similarly, a Frontiers in Global Women’s Health (2024) study found that 60% of Nigerian market women now face moderate to severe food insecurity, an alarming increase since subsidy removal.
And according to SBM Intelligence (2024), staple food items like rice, garri, and yam have seen price hikes of 150–200% in the last two years.
“I Used to Sell Three Bags of Yam in a Day, Now I Can Hardly Sell One”
Just a few steps away, Akanbi Esther, a yam seller from Agbamu in Kwara State, leaned on a wooden bench, her baby strapped to her back. A row of yams sat in front of her stall , once symbols of plenty, now reminders of struggle.
“I used to buy a tuber for ₦700, sell for ₦1,000,” she said. “Now, one tuber costs ₦2,500 from the farm. Customers can’t afford that, so they buy half, and I lose money.”
She shook her head, looking at the remaining unsold yams. “Sometimes, yams rot before I sell them. If rain beats them, it’s waste. I used to sell three bags in a day. Now, I can hardly sell one.”
For Esther, Independence Day once meant joy — dancing, singing, and remembering her primary school days. “We used to wave flags and shout, ‘Up Nigeria!’” she recalled. “Now, when I hear ‘Up Nigeria,’ I just sigh. What is up about Nigeria?”
“We Are the Government, But the System Is Killing Us”
For Balogun Eniola, a pepper wholesaler, the issue runs deeper than subsidy removal , she blames what she calls “the broken system of accountability.”
She leaned against her stall, her tone firm.
“The problem here in Nigeria is ourselves,” she said. “Government will release money for projects, and those in charge will pocket it. They will not do the road, they will not repair the market. Then people will say government failed — but who are the government? We are.”
She insisted that citizens and leaders must both take responsibility.
“If they disburse money, they should send a monitoring team to make sure it is used,” she said. “We need to be truthful in everything. Nigeria will only change when we stop deceiving ourselves.”
Still, Eniola admits survival is becoming harder each day. “I’m not saying the government is doing well,” she said. “They are trying, but the suffering is too much. We need leaders that listen.”
“We No Longer Sell, We Only Survive”
Near the market entrance, Fatimah Ajoke, an onion seller from Ede, Osun State, sat beside her baskets, each filled with onions whose prices now change weekly.
“One bag was ₦15,000 before. Now it is ₦45,000,” she said. “When I tell customers, they look at me like I’m lying. But what can I do? Even drivers charge almost ₦10,000 from the North to Lagos now.”
Ajoke said she sometimes gives discounts just to sell off stock before it spoils. “We no longer sell, we only survive,” she said quietly. “People no longer buy pepper and onion together — they buy pepper alone, use Maggi for smell.”
Her laughter was brief — bitter, fading. “They say we are celebrating Independence,” she added. “For me, Independence is when I can feed my children without begging.”
“Even Ponmo Is Now Luxury”
In another section, a woman who requested anonymity, a ponmo seller from Ijebu, shook her head as she poured water over her goods to keep them from drying.
“I buy one basket now for ₦22,000,” she said. “Before, it was ₦8,000. Who will buy? People that used to eat ponmo every Sunday now say they will manage beans.”
She laughed painfully. “Even ponmo is now luxury. When things like this happen, what are we celebrating? Independence is not about flag, it’s about people’s stomach.”
“Nigeria Is Ours, But We Need Help”
Despite everything, hope flickers amid hardship.
“I still believe Nigeria can change,” said Balogun Eniola. “If the leaders can be honest, if citizens can work with truth, maybe we can celebrate Independence one day and mean it.”
For Olufunmilayo Fadipe, hope looks simpler. “Let government just make life a little easier,” she said softly. “We don’t need too much — just light, road, and food.”
