By Suleyman A. Ndanusa, PhD, OON
At an election rally, the promises arrive quickly, jobs, food, security, electricity, good roads, better schools and a bright digital future. The crowd cheers. Somewhere in Abuja, a civil servant may quietly wonder, which ministry has been given the job?
That is a question worth asking while candidates are asking for our votes. Alongside who should govern, we should discuss how government should be organised to deliver what it promises and how we will know whether it has done so.
A manifesto is a little like a menu. It can make everything sound delicious. The ministries are the kitchen. Before we order, we should know whether the kitchen is properly organised, whether the cooks know who is doing what, and whether the food is likely to reach the table while it is still warm.
Nigeria’s official Cabinet directory gives us a useful place to begin. It lists 48 ministerial entries, including Ministers of State. Four entries have no name displayed, so the page does not tell us exactly how many ministers are currently serving. Counting distinct parent portfolios gives 33 ministries if Petroleum Resources (Oil) and Petroleum Resources (Gas) are treated as one ministry.
The figures are a prompt for discussion, not a verdict. A large cabinet is not automatically wasteful, and a small one does not guarantee efficiency. What matters is whether every ministry has a clear purpose, the authority and capacity to do its job, and results people can feel in their daily lives.
And let us be clear about one point, Ministers of State are ministers. Their appointments count when we discuss the size and cost of the government. They should also have clear responsibilities and be answerable for their work. “Minister of State” should describe a real portfolio, not leave the public wondering whether the minister is in charge of anything beyond attending the meeting.
Our Constitution requires ministerial representation from every state. That is part of our federal arrangement. It does not mean that every state needs its own ministry. We can honour representation and still ask whether the machinery of government is well designed.
Election season gives parties and candidates a chance to explain what government they would build. If they propose a new ministry, what problem will it solve? Which public responsibilities will it take on? What will it cost, and what result should citizens expect? A new ministry can be announced in a sentence. Getting its job description, budget and first year priorities to agree with one another may take rather longer.
Some government responsibilities clearly call for sustained attention. Defence, health, education, justice and finance are not decorations for an official website. Other portfolios need closer examination because their work touches several neighbouring ministries. Innovation, for instance, appears in the names and responsibilities of both the Ministry of Innovation, Science and Technology and the Ministry of Communications, Innovation and the Digital Economy. The arrangement may work well if the responsibilities are clearly divided. If they are not, two offices may be holding the map while the destination waits.
The same conversation applies to social programmes. Humanitarian Affairs and Poverty Reduction, Women Affairs, Youth Development, Labour and Employment, and the social welfare responsibilities within Health all deal, in different ways, with people’s livelihoods and opportunities. Their work is not identical. But citizens should not have to visit four offices to find out who owns a programme, or which minister can get a stalled case moving.
Infrastructure presents its own puzzle. Works, Transportation, Aviation, Marine and Blue Economy, Housing and Urban Development, Water Resources and Sanitation, and Environment each have important responsibilities. They also share the same physical world. A road, port, rail line, city or water project cannot be planned in separate rooms and then expected to meet neatly at the boundary. Ministers may keep distinct portfolios, but government still needs someone to join the plans up and to answer when they do not fit.
This is why voters should ask candidates to explain not only which ministries they would keep, combine or redesign, but how they would make related ministries work together. “We will coordinate better” is a familiar promise. Better coordination should have a name beside it, a deadline attached to it and a result the public can check.
The cost question also deserves a little more care than a quick comparison of ministers’ titles. The 2026 Budget projects ₦58.18 trillion in total expenditure, including ₦15.25 trillion in recurrent non debt spending. Those headline sums do not tell us the cost of the ministerial structure on their own. We would need to see ministry level spending on staff, offices, travel, vehicles and support, alongside the costs of departments and agencies.
If a ministry is merged, what happens to the people, agencies and programmes beneath it? If the same structure and expenses continue under a new name, the reform may produce little more than a fresh signboard
and signboards, on their own, have never repaired a bridge.
Candidates should tell voters what they would do with any real savings. Would the money go toward classrooms, health services, agricultural extension, security or road maintenance? The answer should be specific enough for the public to follow. “We will reduce waste” sounds reassuring. “We will remove this duplication, publish the saving, and use it to improve this service” gives voters something firmer to hold on to.
After the election, every ministry should publish a short, readable account of its responsibilities, budget, main programmes and progress. Ministers should explain what they have delivered, where they have fallen short and what depends on another ministry or on the states. We should not need a decoder ring to discover who is responsible for a public programme.
This discussion is not about finding a magic number before the work has been done. It is about making the structure of government part of the democratic conversation. Nigerians fund government through public revenue, taxes and borrowing. During an election, we should be able to ask what each ministry is for, what each minister is expected to do and how we will judge the result.
So, as candidates travel from rally to rally, let us ask for more than promises. Let us ask them to show us the government behind those promises: how many ministers they envisage, including Ministers of State; what responsibilities each would carry; which ministries should work together; what the structure would cost; and how citizens would see the results.
At the ballot box, we choose the people who will lead us. We should also be talking about the machinery they will use and how we will know it is serving us well.
Suleyman A. Ndanusa, PhD, OON, is an economist, lawyer, strategic studies scholar, and public policy thinker and practitioner with extensive experience in financial markets, regulation, governance, national Security and development.
