There is a lie we have been told for years in Nigeria. That if you work hard enough, you will succeed. That the youth are lazy. That we do not try. That we are not ready. It is a lie told in boardrooms, at conferences, and on international stages. But here is the truth, plain and simple:

Talent is not our problem

From the slums of Ajegunle to the co-working spaces in Yaba, the talent is obvious. Nigerian youth are teaching themselves code on slow networks, building apps on phones with cracked screens, and designing clean user interfaces in the middle of power outages. Some are watching tutorials with night data bundles. Others are running businesses from their Instagram pages. The hustle is real. The talent is undeniable.

The system keeps failing them

You can be a brilliant developer and still go six months unpaid because the startup “ran out of funding.” You can be a founder with a solid idea, only to be blocked by policies you didn't know existed. You can build an incredible product, only for payment gateways to reject your region or your bank to hold your funds. All while trying to survive in a country where electricity is a privilege and stable internet is a myth. That is not a talent gap. That is a system designed to frustrate innovation.

Let us talk about education. Nigerian students are studying computer science in schools with no functioning computers. Final-year projects are completed on borrowed laptops. Lecturers are using outdated curriculums. So the youth take it into their own hands. They learn from WhatsApp groups, Telegram channels, and free YouTube videos. Some become data analysts, product designers, and AI engineers—without ever stepping into a tech hub.

But what happens after learning?

The job market does not reward skill alone. It rewards connection. Who do you know? Where you live. Whether your CV looks familiar. Thousands of young Nigerians are talented, driven, and hungry, but end up stuck doing internships for exposure or working multiple side gigs with no health insurance or career growth. And when they try to go abroad, we label them as unpatriotic.

Can we blame them?

The government talks about digital transformation, AI roadmaps, and tech innovation. But the everyday reality is different. Broadband penetration is low. Electricity is unreliable. Policies are inconsistent. Young people are starting companies from nothing, while those in power draft plans that do not include the people actually building the future.

We say we want a one trillion-dollar economy by 2030. But how do you grow an economy on empty infrastructure? How do you scale innovation when you do not support the people doing the real work? Investors are another story. Most of the money goes to Lagos, to English-speaking founders with polished decks and the right networks.

Meanwhile, real builders in places like Akure, Minna, and Makurdi are overlooked. Not because they are not smart. But because they do not fit the mould. The startup scene is becoming more about who can sell the best story, not who can solve the biggest problem.

But the raw talent is where Nigeria’s hope lives. The boy learning to build APIs from his neighbour’s phone. In the girl coding while selling wares at her mother’s shop. In the self-taught designer who cannot afford Adobe but still creates magic with open source tools. We cannot keep watching this talent burn out. We need to create systems that nurture, protect, and promote it.

We need local investment funds that do not wait for foreign validation. We need coworking spaces outside the major cities. We need internships that pay. We need to put tech education in public schools. We need government contracts to go to local startups. We need data privacy laws that protect users. We need real inclusion, not just talk.

We need to stop celebrating survival as success

For founders, this is a call to lead differently. Pay your interns. Share your lessons. Mentor someone. Open your networks. Invest in your community. Tech in Nigeria cannot just be about exits. It must be about impact. For policymakers, this is not about catching up. It is about building something new. Build a digital economy that works for the market woman, the okada rider, the teacher, and the trader. Let us stop copying foreign models and start creating systems that reflect our own lives.

Nigeria is not short on brilliance. We are short on structure. If we do not fix the structure, the talent will continue to leave or worse, give up. Talent is not the problem. It never has been.

The problem is a system too slow to change, too rigid to listen, and too distracted to see what is already in front of it. But here is the good news.

We still have time to get it right. The builders are still here. The energy is still alive. The dream is still possible. All we have to do is stop waiting and start building the system that talent deserves. Or rather do something of nothing….