Beyond the Akara Debate: The Bigger Question Nigeria Should Be Asking

Making Sense of the News | Commentary 

When a National Conversation Caught My Attention

I never thought I would pen any thoughts on the controversy generated by First Lady Oluremi Tinubu's comments encouraging women to venture into businesses such as frying akara or making kuli-kuli.

I even said as much during our radio programme yesterday morning.

Partly because I never really had an opinion on the matter. I'm not entirely sure why. Either the topic didn't interest me enough, or perhaps I came into the debate rather late, after the conversation had already been shaped by different shades of opinion in the public space. Had I watched the original video before social media took over with its interpretations, I might have arrived at my own conclusions much earlier.

But here I am, putting my thoughts together.

Interestingly, what finally pushed me to write was a video I stumbled upon on Facebook after our programme. It echoed, in part, what I had already expressed on air and made me think a little deeper about the entire conversation.

Why the Akara Business Attracts Such Strong Reactions

As I reflected on the arguments from both sides, one thought kept coming back to me.

I would like to think that much of the criticism directed at the First Lady stems from the way Nigerians perceive the akara business itself.

For years, frying akara has been looked down upon as an undignified occupation. That perception, I believe, has little to do with akara itself and everything to do with the environment in which the business is commonly practised.

Many akara sellers operate beside open drains or in places that most people would not describe as hygienic. Over time, society has subconsciously associated the business with poverty, limited education and a lack of opportunity.

Whether that perception is fair is another matter entirely.

But it exists.

So when many Nigerians heard the First Lady encourage women to venture into frying akara or making kuli-kuli, they did not simply hear, "Start a small business."

What they heard was, "Settle for less."

Again, I am not saying that was what she meant. I am simply trying to understand why the comments provoked such strong reactions.

Having established that, another question comes to mind.

Can Nigeria Have an Akara-less Economy?

Yes and no, depending on the context.

I'll start with the "no," then explain the "yes" later.

My answer is no, first, because of one undeniable reality.

Why Government Investment Matters

Government, at every level, has not invested enough in education, vocational training and skills acquisition to enable every Nigerian to maximise his or her potential.

Yes, successive governments have introduced free education programmes and various empowerment initiatives over the years.

But the reality is that these efforts have not been sufficient to ensure that every Nigerian acquires the knowledge or skills needed to thrive in today's economy. In some cases, free education exists more in policy than in practice.

And because of that, we will continue to have people at different levels of the economic ladder.

We will continue to have people frying akara.

We will continue to have people making kuli-kuli.

We will continue to have wheelbarrow pushers, hawkers and countless others engaged in occupations that many people enter, not necessarily because they lack ambition, but because opportunities have been limited.

That is the reality.

As long as the system continues to produce unequal opportunities, there will always be people whose economic choices are shaped more by circumstance than by preference.

That is why I believe the conversation should go beyond whether the First Lady was right or wrong.

If her initiative is supporting women with grants to start akara businesses, I think that is commendable. Every honest effort to improve people's livelihoods deserves recognition.

But I also think it is fair to ask a few additional questions.

Does the same initiative create pathways for those women, or their children, to access quality education?

Does it invest in vocational centres where they can acquire skills that are relevant in the 21st century?

Does it expose them to opportunities in technology, manufacturing, agriculture, the creative economy or other emerging sectors?

In other words, does it merely help people survive, or does it also help them expand their choices?

Because if all we do is support survival businesses without creating opportunities for people to move beyond them, then we may simply be managing poverty rather than reducing it.

And for me, that is where the bigger conversation begins.

The "Yes" To An Akara-less Economy

That brings me back to my earlier question.

Can Nigeria have an akara-less economy?

My answer is yes, but only if we properly understand what I mean.

I am not suggesting that Nigerians will stop eating akara. Far from it. After all, people must eat.

Economies Evolve. So Do Occupations

Rather, I am pointing to a broader economic reality.

Economies evolve.

As societies become more educated, more innovative and more prosperous, some occupations naturally shrink, others transform, while entirely new ones emerge.

Think about recharge card vendors.

There was a time they occupied virtually every street corner in Nigeria. It was difficult to walk through a major junction without seeing someone selling recharge cards. Today, because of banking apps, USSD codes and digital payments, that occupation has become far less common.

Nobody outlawed recharge card sellers.

The economy simply evolved.

The Nigerian economy itself continues to evolve. New sectors such as fintech, digital services, content creation, entertainment streaming and modular refining have emerged in recent years, creating opportunities that barely existed two decades ago. As new industries grow, new occupations are created while others gradually decline or reinvent themselves. That is the natural progression of every evolving economy.

That is why I believe the more important question is not whether akara is a good business or a bad one.

The real question is this:

How much of the akara economy would still exist if Nigerians had access to the opportunities they had always dreamed of?

I suspect it would look very different from what we have today.

Reimagining the Akara Economy

During the course of this conversation, some people pointed to a premium akara business in Ikoyi, Lagos, where a serving reportedly sells for about ₦22,000.

Whether or not one can afford such a meal is beside the point.

The point is that the business itself is not the problem.

It demonstrates that akara can be reimagined through branding, innovation and a different business model. It can be packaged differently, marketed differently and attract a completely different clientele.

In other words, akara does not have to remain a roadside survival business. It can become a modern enterprise, just like countless other businesses that have evolved over time. 

Beyond Survival. Towards Choice

Supporters of the First Lady have also pointed out that street food vendors exist in many countries around the world.

That is true.

The difference, however, is that in many of those countries, street food is often sold in cleaner, better-regulated environments and is increasingly regarded as a legitimate entrepreneurial venture rather than merely a means of survival.

That is where I think Nigeria should be heading.

And if I may be a little speculative, I dare say that if you ask many women selling akara today whether, given the opportunity, they would rather acquire another skill, further their education or pursue a different profession, many would probably say yes.

Not because there is anything inherently wrong with frying akara.

Rather, because human beings naturally aspire to greater opportunities for themselves and, more importantly, for their children.

If those same women eventually decide to return to the akara business after acquiring new skills or education, that would be a different conversation altogether.

Then it would truly be a matter of choice, not circumstance.

Perhaps that is the real conversation Nigerians should be having.

Not whether frying akara is dignified or undignified, but whether our country is creating enough opportunities for people to choose the lives they genuinely want.

If someone decides to fry akara because they have discovered a profitable niche, built a brand and found fulfilment in it, that is something to celebrate.

But if someone is compelled to do it simply because every other door has been closed, then the failure lies not with the individual, but with the system.

The Bigger Conversation

Ultimately, the responsibility of government should not merely be to help more Nigerians fry akara.

It should be to build an economy where every Nigerian has the opportunity to discover what they are capable of becoming.

It should be to build an economy that gives Nigerians genuine choices.

Perhaps that is the bigger conversation hidden beneath all the noise.

And perhaps that is the conversation Nigeria should now be having.

Driving the Conversation... Making Sense of the News.