By Ugo Inyama

Across Nigeria, a dangerous equation is playing out: rising youth unemployment equals rising crime. When a generation cannot find work, it finds something else to do — and too often, that “something else” threatens the peace of the nation that failed to employ them.

From Lagos to Kano, Aba to Maiduguri, the scenes are the same. Idle young men roam the streets. Graduates push wheelbarrows. Artisans abandon their trades. Thousands spend their days online chasing “quick money.” Beneath the humour of “hustle culture” lies exhaustion, anger, and despair. The tragedy is not that Nigerian youths lack ambition; it is that the country has denied them any structured outlet for it.

Official figures put youth unemployment near one-third of the workforce, but the reality is worse. Many “self-employed” are barely surviving — selling trinkets, driving tricycles, or working unstable gigs that feed neither ambition nor dignity. The informal economy keeps them alive, not fulfilled.

Where youthful energy is wasted, it festers. Where merit no longer matters and corruption mocks honesty, crime becomes both rebellion and survival.

When Survival Becomes a Crime

For many young Nigerians, crime begins with hunger, not hatred. Petty theft, cyber-fraud, and robbery often start as desperate acts in a system that offers neither jobs nor justice. “Yahoo Yahoo” online fraud — has become a distorted symbol of success. It is glamorised in songs, excused by peers, and tolerated by communities. But behind every celebrated “big boy” story lies a trail of victims and ruined futures.

Behind every scammer are hundreds who failed or died trying. Behind every armed robber is a disillusioned graduate who once dreamed of becoming a doctor or engineer. When legitimate doors remain locked, illegitimate ones look like opportunity.

Unemployment also feeds organised violence. From banditry in the North-West to militancy in the Delta, cult clashes in the South-South, and kidnappings in the South-East, idle youths become easy recruits for warlords, extremists, and politicians. For many, crime is now a job — a way to survive a system that forgot them.

The Price of Neglect

The cost of neglect is staggering. Families lose sons to crime or prison. Communities lose peace. The nation loses innovation and productivity. A generation that should be building industries is instead fuelling insecurity.

Economically, mass unemployment drains growth. A jobless nation consumes but does not produce. Socially, it breeds resentment — against the rich, the powerful, and eventually against the idea of fairness itself. Rising kidnapping, drug abuse, and ritual killings are not coincidences; they are symptoms of economic failure.

Nigeria’s prisons overflow with young men who should be in factories, farms, or classrooms. Each wasted youth represents a lost investment — years of parental sacrifice and public spending thrown away. As one economist noted, “Unemployment breeds insecurity, and insecurity buries investment.” Investors flee, jobs disappear, and the vicious cycle tightens.

The Way Forward

Fixing youth unemployment requires more than token empowerment schemes. It demands courage, vision, and reform. Job creation must be treated as a national security priority, not an afterthought.

First, align education with the real economy. Nigerian universities still prepare students for jobs that no longer exist. Curricula must shift toward technical, digital, and vocational skills — renewable energy, ICT, logistics, agriculture, and the creative industries. Certificates must give way to competence.

Second, empower small and medium-sized enterprises — the true job engines. Multiple taxation, unreliable power, and expensive credit are killing entrepreneurship. SMEs need affordable loans, steady electricity, and fair regulation to thrive.

Third, state and local governments must stop waiting for Abuja. Rural youths can be productively engaged through local projects — road repairs, irrigation, recycling, and agro-processing. Every local government should have a youth employment desk that links skills with real work.

Fourth, the private sector must rise beyond profit. Corporations can fund apprenticeships, support innovation hubs, and partner with schools to build employable talent. Job creation is not charity — it is an investment in stability.

Restoring the Dignity of Labour

Mindset matters too. Too many young Nigerians still see vocational work as beneath them, chasing only “office jobs” or overnight riches. Yet every developed nation thrives on its welders, builders, farmers, and technicians. The shame lies not in labour, but in laziness.

Our obsession with sudden wealth — luxury cars, flamboyant weddings, designer lifestyles — fuels criminal temptation. Society must learn to celebrate productivity, not fraud. Parents, entertainers, and religious leaders must lead this value re-orientation. Real success is built, not stolen.

A Call to Action

Nigeria cannot arrest its way out of crime. You cannot police hunger or imprison frustration. The true antidote is work — jobs that pay, skills that empower, and systems that give people hope.

Law-and-order measures tackle symptoms, not causes. You cannot fight insecurity while breeding it through joblessness. The cost of creating jobs is far less than the cost of fighting the wars unemployment creates.

Every unemployed youth is a potential innovator or a potential criminal. Which side they fall on depends on whether the nation gives them reason to believe.

The choice before Nigeria is stark: employ its youth or be consumed by their anger.
The peace and prosperity of tomorrow depend on the jobs created today.

*Ugo Inyama writes from the African Digital Governance Centre, Manchester, UK.
www.africandgc.org

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