The Risk Of A Hunger Crisis

Nigeria is sliding into one of the worst humanitarian disasters in its modern history, and the nation is dangerously close to normalising it. The World Food Programme (WFP) has issued a stark warning: 35 million Nigerians will face severe hunger in 2026 — the worst levels ever recorded in the country’s history — with the North carrying the heaviest burden.

In Borno alone, as many as 15,000 people are projected to fall into catastrophic, famine-level hunger (IPC Phase 5), a classification usually reserved for war zones like Sudan and Gaza.

This is not a distant forecast. It is already happening. Armed groups are preventing farmers from planting. Families are abandoning their fields out of fear. Supply routes are severed, and humanitarian pipelines are collapsing.

The 2026 Humanitarian Needs and Response Plan for the Northeast is only 32 per cent funded, leaving a yawning $347 million shortfall at the precise moment when need is exploding. The WFP has already slashed its reach from over 1.3 million people last year to just 72,000 in some frontline areas — a freefall that will have lethal consequences. The United Nations Emergency Fund (UNICEF) warns that without immediate therapeutic feeding, 75 children in the Northeast will die every single day from severe acute malnutrition.

These are not abstract numbers. These are preventable deaths of Nigerian children — 75 every single day — that should fill every leader with righteous outrage and shame. The blood of these innocent souls will be on the hands of those who choose inaction while the country starves.

The tragedy unfolding in the North is not an act of nature but the bitter harvest of man-made failures. For over a decade, Boko Haram, ISWAP, and banditry have turned the region’s fertile lands into killing fields. Farmers in Borno, Yobe, and Adamawa cannot access their fields without risking their lives. In Zamfara, Katsina, and Kaduna, banditry has displaced entire communities, burning granaries and stealing livestock. The result is a vicious cycle: violence drives hunger, and hunger fuels desperation that feeds more violence.

This crisis exposes the deep structural imbalance in Nigeria’s governance process. Successive administrations have treated the farming zone as a peripheral zone rather than the nation’s food basket. The Renewed Hope Agenda promised transformation, yet the 2026 budget’s allocation for agriculture remains modest compared to the scale of need, while security spending continues to favour reactive operations over preventive rural protection.

Local governments, constitutionally responsible for primary services, are chronically underfunded and often dysfunctional. The consequence is a security vacuum that armed groups exploit with impunity, while humanitarian agencies struggle with chronic underfunding.

The human cost is not merely heartbreaking; it is an indefensible moral outrage. Mothers watching their children waste away from acute malnutrition, elderly people succumbing to diseases a well-nourished body could fight, entire communities stripped of dignity — this is the reality of a nation that has failed its most vulnerable. This is not just a humanitarian emergency; it is a profound moral failure that undermines the social contract between the Nigerian state and its citizens.

Yet, amid this darkness, there remains a narrow window for decisive action. The federal government must immediately release emergency funds to close the $347 million gap and restore full WFP coverage. Security forces must prioritise safe corridors for farmers and protect planting seasons with sustained operations. Long-term, Nigeria needs a comprehensive rural development strategy that includes massive investment in irrigation, climate-smart agriculture, and youth employment programmes that offer young people alternatives to joining armed groups. Land reform to resolve herder-farmer conflicts and a strengthened local governance are equally essential.

International partners must also step up. Donor fatigue is understandable, but abandoning the Northeast at this critical juncture would be morally indefensible. Nigeria, for its part, must demonstrate greater accountability and transparency in the utilisation of aid to restore confidence.

The present Ramadan period offers a powerful moral framework. As Muslims fast and reflect on hunger, the nation should be reminded that true faith demands action for the hungry. Charity during this month must extend beyond individual acts to collective responsibility — supporting IDP camps, funding therapeutic feeding centres, and advocating for policy change.

The blood must cease flowing. The hunger must be confronted with the fury and urgency it demands. Nigeria’s greatness will not be measured by how many skyscrapers rise in the cities, but by whether the men, women, and children who till the soil can sleep safely in their homes and reap the fruits of their labour. The time for excuses is over. The time for decisive, compassionate, and resolute leadership is now.

We are appalled that this situation has persisted, as it has been recognised as one of the reasons criminality festers despite efforts to end it. But the solution lies in finding actionable models that go beyond the prevailing rhetoric noticeable within the corridors of power.