₦814 Billion in Imports, Zero Accountability: Inside Nigeria’s Textile Rhetorictocracy

0
94
Updated: Dec 18, 2025
Credibility: 85%

By every metric, Nigeria’s textile industry is not just struggling — it is retreating under the weight of words.

Between January and September 2025, Nigeria imported textile and textile articles worth ₦814.27 billion, a 47.43% increase over the same period in 2024. These numbers are not abstract. They represent idle factories, abandoned industrial estates, and thousands of skilled workers displaced from productive employment. Yet the government continues to declare, with unwavering confidence, that it is “reviving” the sector.

This is the core of Nigeria’s rhetorictocracy: a system in which policy is dominated by persuasive announcements, workshops, and media campaigns, while real industrial action lags far behind. Lofty statements substitute for funding, implementation, and institutional support. In the textile sector, rhetoric is not just empty — it is a tool that conceals neglect.

When policy promises meet fiscal convenience

Several years ago, the government lifted the ban on textile imports, fully aware that Nigeria’s appetite for foreign fabrics would overwhelm local manufacturers. To mitigate this, a 10% textile levy was introduced, with the explicit promise that proceeds would be reinvested in modernising factories, supporting competitiveness, and reducing import dependence.

That promise has not been kept. According to Hamma Kwajaffa, Director-General of the Nigerian Textile Manufacturers Association, not a kobo has been ploughed back into the sector. Instead, the funds have been absorbed into general government revenue — a deliberate choice of short-term fiscal gain over long-term industrial survival.

This is rhetorictocracy in action: policy exists on paper and in speeches, but fails where it matters most — on the factory floor, in cotton fields, and in financial systems meant to support industrial growth.

The cost of speaking without acting

Reviving a sector requires more than press releases or committee communiqués. It demands institutions, discipline, and political will. Yet in Nigeria, industrial revival often takes the form of ceremonial announcements.

In April 2025, the Federal Ministry of Industry, Trade and Investment announced plans to localise up to $4 billion in textile imports. The Bank of Industry toured factories. Committees were formed. Briefing documents circulated. Yet imports surged, factories struggled, and workers lost hope. As Kwajaffa lamented, “We’re tired of all these workshops that the communiqués are just dust kept somewhere in the drawer of some civil servant.”

Rhetorictocracy treats words as substitutes for action, and in doing so, it erodes trust, undermines confidence, and accelerates industrial collapse.

A tale of two levies: textiles versus sugar

Compare textiles with sugar. The sugar industry benefits from a dedicated development levy, backed by a functioning council and political urgency. Funds collected are reinvested to support backward integration, production, and infrastructure.

Textiles, by contrast, have no institutional backbone. Despite the levy, there is no dedicated fund, no council, no enforcement, and no political urgency. Industrial policy becomes a function of who has access to government corridors rather than what makes economic sense.

Kwajaffa explains bluntly: “Because nobody is there in the textile industry that can speak to the government or be acceptable, nothing is being done with that fund.”

Here, rhetorictocracy is political theatre masquerading as policy. Words are abundant; action is scarce.

Corruption as an industrial toxin

Rhetorictocracy does not exist in isolation. Corruption amplifies its destructive effects. Credit schemes and grants meant to support manufacturers are often undermined by kickbacks and rent-seeking. Programs stall not because they are unviable, but because beneficiaries are expected to pay informal dues to navigate the system.

The result: serious manufacturers walk away, trust erodes, and the system collapses under its own cynicism. Corruption, intertwined with rhetoric-heavy policy, becomes a poison that kills industrial ecosystems.

The broken cotton–textile chain

A functional textile industry begins on the farm. Nigeria once had a robust cotton value chain; today, it is fractured and fragile.

Cotton farming remains smallholder-based, poorly mechanised, and exposed to insecurity. Agricultural extension services are weak, research underfunded, and yields low. Textile factories, starved of reliable local input, increasingly rely on imports. The irony is painful: a crude oil-producing nation unable to supply affordable polyester to its manufacturers.

Rhetorictocracy masks this decay. The government speaks confidently about industrial revival while neglecting the foundations that make revival possible.

Imports are not the enemy — neglect is

 

This is not an argument against trade. No modern economy is autarkic. The problem arises when imports rise because local producers are uncompetitive due to high costs, weak infrastructure, and inconsistent policy. At that point, the state is complicit, and rhetoric becomes a veil for neglect.

Dumping of finished textile products into the Nigerian market further undermines domestic firms. Local manufacturers, operating under some of the world’s harshest business conditions, cannot compete. The predictable result: factories close, jobs disappear, and entire industrial ecosystems collapse.

Kaduna State, once a textile hub, now hosts none of the major manufacturers under MAN’s coverage. This is not market efficiency; it is the cost of a rhetorictocracy.

The broader economic toll

The decline of textiles is more than a sectoral issue; it is a macro-economic warning. Every imported fabric strains foreign exchange, reduces value addition, and weakens manufacturing. At a time of currency volatility and high unemployment, importing over ₦800 billion worth of textiles in nine months is reckless.

Industrialisation is how nations create durable jobs, stabilise currency, and grow wealth. When rhetoric replaces action, Nigeria sacrifices all three.

Breaking free from rhetorictocracy

The path forward is clear:

  1. Ring-fence the textile levy and place it in a transparent development fund at the Bank of Industry.

  2. Insulate financing from corruption, with independent oversight and clear criteria.

  3. Rebuild the cotton value chain through security, mechanisation, and agricultural extension.

  4. Speak with one voice — conflicting government signals erode confidence and stall execution.

  5. Treat industrial policy as national security, not as a PR exercise.

Without these measures, rhetoric will continue to dominate reality, and the textile sector will remain a story of squandered choices rather than lost potential.

The choice remains

Nigeria still faces a clear decision: continue collecting levies, issuing statements, and importing fabrics while the industry collapses, or prioritise production over consumption. Industrial decline is not inevitable. But revival demands honesty, discipline, and the courage to act rather than merely speak.

Until that choice is made, the textile crisis will remain a cautionary tale — a testament to the perils of rhetorictocracy.