Post-event address to the South East Development Commission (SEDC) Vision 2050 Conference

I am deeply honoured to write this episode as post event address on the South East Development Commission conference, which, by all measures, was a historic and intellectually stimulating conference. The South East Vision 2050 gathering has demonstrated something important and reassuring: that our region is no longer content with lamentation or nostalgia but is actively seeking a pathway to deliberate, collective, and long-term development.

I commend the South East Development Commission for convening the forum. In a country where governance is often trapped in election cycles and short-term calculations, the courage to think in 25-year horizons is not a small achievement. I am particularly enthused that our political class, policy thinkers, and private-sector leaders found it necessary to gather, exchange ideas, and interrogate the future of Alaigbo with seriousness and urgency.

The quality of the interventions we witnessed deserves recognition. Governor Charles Soludo’s framing of a Marshall Plan–style intervention for the South East—anchored on regional security, critical infrastructure, and energy and logistics connectivity—was both intellectually rigorous and morally compelling. Governor Peter Mbah’s call for the South East to function as a common market rather than five parallel and competing states struck at the heart of our structural inefficiencies. Governor Alex Otti’s emphasis on energy as the foundation of private-sector growth reminded us that without power, all visions remain abstractions.

The Vice President’s assurance that the SEDC is designed as a delivery institution rather than another bureaucratic layer was reassuring, as was the announcement of the South East Investment Company Limited as a vehicle for mobilising resources. Osita Chidoka’s insistence that we move from sentiment to strategy and that we unlock value through human capital rather than dwell endlessly on what was lost with the old Eastern Region was a timely intellectual intervention.

Taken together, these contributions painted a bold and largely coherent picture of what the South East could become by 2050.

And yet, ladies and gentlemen, respect demands honesty, and progress demands candour. Beyond the eloquence and shared aspirations, there was a critical silence in the room—a silence around the most decisive question of all: where will the money come from?

Development, as history teaches us, does not happen by speeches alone. Vision is indispensable, but it must be backed by viable fiscal strategies. Without clarity on funding, even the most inspiring ideas risk becoming what our people know too well: fleeting illusions.

It is on this point that I wish to make a respectful but firm contribution to the conversation.

First, we must resist the well-worn counsel of some economic consultants who instinctively prescribe loans as the primary route to development. Nigeria’s experience with debt-funded infrastructure has been, at best, mixed and, at worst, disastrous.

Too often, loans become conduits for inflated contracts, abandoned projects, and generational debt, while consultants walk away with their retainer fees intact. For the South East to mortgage its future without first exhausting its internal capacities would be a grave mistake.

Closely related to this is another enduring illusion: that foreign investors will be the principal drivers of our transformation. For decades, Africa has behaved like a household that locks away its finest plates, waiting endlessly for a very important visitor who never arrives. At the same time, our media space is saturated with stories of corruption, insecurity, and electoral malpractice. We cannot, in the same breath, advertise dysfunction and expect outsiders to rush in with capital.

More troubling is that in our fixation on foreign investors, we have neglected—and sometimes actively discouraged—our own indigenous investors. Nowhere is this contradiction clearer than in the South-East.

A sober analysis of Nigeria’s regions shows that the South East’s greatest comparative advantage is commerce. The Igbo entrepreneurial spirit, institutionalized through the apprenticeship system, has built trading and manufacturing networks that span Nigeria and the globe. Millions of SMEs, vast diaspora remittances, and enormous idle capital sit in banks—often outside the region. Yet much of the tax revenue generated by this activity accrues to other states because company headquarters are registered elsewhere.

This is not a crime; it is rational behaviour within a flawed fiscal framework. But it is economically self-defeating for our region.

A serious Vision 2050 must, therefore, confront revenue derivation directly. One practical strategy is a coordinated regional effort to incentivise South Eastern–owned businesses operating nationwide to re-register their head offices in their home states. The gains from company income tax, PAYE, and VAT derivation would far exceed what many external loans could provide. Complementary measures—such as vehicle plate-number derivation and regionally anchored business registries—can further strengthen internally generated revenue.

We must also be bolder in exploiting the concurrent legislative list. Railways, power generation, and even certain categories of roads need not wait indefinitely for Abuja. Through well-structured public-private partnerships, backed by credible guarantees and professional management, the South East can build profitable, self-sustaining infrastructure. Our traders and diaspora are not looking for charity; they are looking for bankable projects and predictable governance.

At this point, I must respectfully disagree with some of the idealism expressed at the conference—particularly the expectation of full federal funding for the scale of transformation envisaged. As Professor Chidi Odinkalu rightly reminded us, the fiscal context that sustained the old Eastern Nigeria Development Corporation no longer exists. Nigeria has drifted into an over-centralized, dependency-driven federal system. In the absence of a major restructuring, which is unlikely in the near term, the SEDC must design for autonomy, not reliance.

This does not diminish the importance of federal support, but it reframes the SEDC’s true strength: its convening power, its ability to de-risk investments, and its capacity to enforce regional coordination and discipline. There is also a warning we must take seriously. Development commissions in Nigeria have too often become feeding troughs for vested interests. Without radical transparency, professional governance, and strong citizen oversight, the SEDC risks being cannibalised before it delivers transformative results. The memory of the old ENDC under Dr. Michael Okpara should inspire not nostalgia but standards—integrity, competence, and production over patronage.

Finally, on security, which has rightly featured prominently in our discussions, surveillance technology and funding are necessary, but they are not sufficient. Sustainable peace in the South East will also require credible elections, reduced corruption, political inclusion, and the resolution of long-standing grievances. Security cannot be divorced from justice.

Distinguished ladies and gentlemen, the South East is not poor. The capital we seek is already in our markets, our banks, and our diaspora networks. Like post-war Europe, which rebuilt by mobilising local champions before attracting foreign capital, Alaigbo must first believe in itself materially, not just rhetorically.

The people are ready. Our traders, professionals, and youths already operate globally. What they require is a disciplined, inward-looking, and inclusive regional framework that converts commerce into lasting collective power.

If Vision 2050 is to be more than a document, it must be underwritten by realistic funding strategies, honest disagreements, and the courage to abandon borrowed illusions. In that spirit, I offer these reflections not as criticism but as a contribution to an ongoing and necessary conversation.