The Wide Gap Between Nigerian Policy and Nigerian Reality 

In a recent video, the Commander of the Federal Road Safety Corps answered a seemingly straightforward question:

“Can you drive with an international driver’s licence in Nigeria?”

His answer was equally straightforward.

“The answer is simply, no.”

To support his position, he cited Section 82 of the National Road Traffic Regulations, which states plainly that:

“A person shall not use a foreign driving licence to drive any vehicle in Nigeria.”

He went on to explain that an International Driver’s Permit allows a foreigner to drive on Nigerian roads for a period of three months while processing an application for a Nigerian National Driver’s Licence.

This is true.

Non-Nigerians can legally drive in the country, but this is governed by existing immigration and national traffic laws. However, the Commander’s commentary misses an important fact.

In 2018, President Muhammadu Buhari signed the Instrument of Accession to the 1949 Vienna Convention on Road Traffic. Under the Convention, contracting states are required to recognize valid driving permits issued by other contracting states during temporary visits.

Article 41 specifically provides for the mutual recognition of domestic driver’s licences that comply with the Convention’s standards. In practical terms, this means that an International Driving Permit is not always strictly necessary, provided the driver’s national licence contains the required information and conforms to the Convention’s specifications.

That reciprocity does not extend indefinitely. Once an individual becomes a permanent resident of a host country, domestic laws generally require them to obtain a local licence or exchange their foreign permit within a specified timeframe.

Yet none of this was mentioned.

Whether the Commander is unaware of the Convention or simply did not deem it necessary to raise, the omission reinforces a much larger problem.

Nigeria’s administrators and law enforcement officers are often not knowledgeable enough about Nigerian law.

That may sound harsh, but it helps explain why there are so many instances of law enforcement officers attempting to arrest people on charges that either do not exist in law or are based on deeply flawed interpretations of existing laws.

Consider the recurring drama surrounding civilians wearing camouflage-print clothing.

Over the years, several Nigerian military personnel have harassed and physically assaulted civilians for wearing camouflage prints, often citing Section 110(1) of the Criminal Code Act, which provides that:

“Any person who not being a person serving in any of the armed forces of Nigeria, wears the uniform or any part of the uniform of such forces, or any dress having the appearance or bearing any of the regimental or other distinctive marks of such uniforms … is guilty of an offence.”

There is clearly an offence contemplated by this provision. However, using it to harass civilians wearing any kind of camouflage-print material is an absurd interpretation of the law. Camouflage fabric without a unit designation, insignia, badge, flashes, rank markings, epaulettes or other distinctive identifiers associated with the Nigerian Armed Forces cannot reasonably be classified as military uniform or part of a military uniform. A camouflage shirt purchased from a market stall is not the same thing as military attire.

Yet this distinction is routinely ignored in favor of law enforcement officers operating as they like. There is also the question of bottlenecks. Nigeria and its Ministries, Departments, and Agencies can legislate to no end, but fail to simplify processes that ease the day-to-day lives of citizens.

The Federal Government’s announcement that, from January 1, 2026, no Nigerian or non-resident will be able to open or operate a bank account without a Tax Identification Number threw citizens into a familiar state of apprehension.

Not necessarily because the policy itself is unreasonable, but because Nigerians have seen this pattern before. This is not the first time the government has unveiled a sweeping policy with far-reaching implications for everyday life, only for poor execution to leave citizens confused and in hardship. The bitter memories of the Naira Redesign Policy, the National Identification Number saga, and the earlier Bank Verification Number exercise remain fresh in the public consciousness.

Nigerian ministries will make efforts to “digitise,” create websites and launch online portals, but the fundamental services they are supposed to provide remain overlooked.

In theory, the FRSC should ensure that citizens are knowledgeable about road traffic laws. In reality, many Nigerians remain unfamiliar with those laws, and as seen in the viral video of the Commander, officials themselves often contribute to misinformation regarding them. 

These issues have everything to do with the fact that the Nigerian legal system needs to be revisited. There is no harmony between legislation and execution, with each stage plagued by its own array of problems.

A steady flow between legislation and execution requires early and sustained sensitisation around important legislation, accessibility both to laws and to the personnel and offices responsible for implementing them, gradual rollouts of major policies, and better harmonisation between government agencies through the use of existing databases and administrative systems.

What makes this particularly frustrating is that Nigeria is not lacking in laws, policies, frameworks, or international commitments. What Nigeria consistently struggles with is implementation. The Vienna Convention on Road Traffic is a useful example.

On paper, Nigeria is a signatory. In practice, however, many of the rights and obligations arising from the Convention remain poorly understood and inconsistently applied. Agreements of this nature are often not enforced beyond announcements, press releases, and photo opportunities.

See also the Safe Schools Initiative.

In response to the growing number of attacks on schools and the kidnapping of more than 200 girls in Chibok, a coalition of Nigerian business leaders, working with UN Special Envoy for Education Gordon Brown, the Global Business Coalition for Education, and A World at School launched the Safe Schools Initiative at the World Economic Forum in Nigeria.

The initiative began with an initial $10 million fund and sought to promote schools as safe spaces. It was supposed to bolster the physical protection of schools, provide school guards and police in partnership with Nigerian authorities, train staff as school safety officers, and provide communication tools and counselling services.

The initiative generated headlines, goodwill, and international attention. But in light of the worsening insecurity facing schoolchildren across the country, there is little evidence that it has achieved its intended objectives.

At first glance, these examples may appear unrelated. But they are all manifestations of the same governance problem.

Nigeria does not suffer from a shortage of laws, policies, or frameworks, it suffers from a persistent inability to translate those frameworks into reality. That is precisely why conversations about constitutional reform matter. When the constitution review exercise commenced in 2024, the leadership of the National Assembly signalled an ambitious timeline, indicating that a first tranche of amendments would be concluded by June 2025. That deadline has come and gone.

As electoral politics gradually intensifies ahead of the 2027 general elections, uncertainty now clouds when and whether plenary voting will take place on the numerous proposals currently before lawmakers. The scope of the proposed amendments includes special seats for women, state policing, judicial reforms, electoral reforms, fiscal federalism, revenue allocation, and expanded human rights protections.

These are not minor technical amendments. They go directly to the heart of Nigeria’s governance architecture and democratic stability. Yet despite years of consultations, committee work, and public engagement, there is still no clear timetable for voting on these matters.

From international treaties to road traffic regulations, from tax reforms to school security initiatives, Nigeria repeatedly encounters the same obstacle: there is no harmony between legislation and execution, and this gap that must be addressed.