From “Government Money No Be Anybody Money” to “My Tax Money, Abeg!”

For years, Nigerians have lived in blissful moral confusion about public funds.
Everyone loves “government work,” not for service, but for the sweet opportunity to chop small from the national pot. After all, as the saying goes, “government money no be anybody money.”

That phrase has done more damage than locusts. It turned the entire nation into a buffet line of looters. Governors loot. Contractors loot. Civil servants loot with style. And the ordinary man cheers them on — until he realizes he can’t afford fuel for his generator.

But something interesting is happening with these new taxation laws. Suddenly, the government wants you — yes, you! — to pay tax on almost everything: income, property, business, even your stubborn sense of hope.

At first, Nigerians grumbled. But then reality struck:
When you’re the one funding government expenses, those reckless budget headlines start sounding personal.

“₦2 billion approved for official refreshments” — ah! That’s my money for suya and pepper soup in Abuja!
“₦5 billion for official cars” — excuse me, is that a motorcade or a mobile car dealership?
“₦10 billion for youth empowerment” — and yet my cousin is still empowering himself with betting slips!

Suddenly, citizens begin to feel the holy anger of ownership. That’s the real revolution — not in the streets, but in the wallet.

When taxation meets consciousness, corruption loses its camouflage.
When people pay, they start to ask questions. And when enough people ask questions, those in power begin to sweat like politicians in a polygraph test.

So maybe these new taxes will finally cure our national allergy to accountability.
Because the day Nigerians stop saying “government money no be anybody money” and start shouting “that’s my tax money!” — the game is over for grand theft governance.