What the Abuja–Kaduna Train Derailment says about Nigeria’s Enduring Maintenance Crisis

On Tuesday, August 26, 2025, a passenger train plying the  Abuja–Kaduna passenger route derailed near Asham, the busy corridor that connects Nigeria’s capital city to its northern gateway. The train had departed Abuja at 9:45 a.m., but at around 11:09 a.m., at least two coaches veered off the track and toppled over.

Although no fatalities were recorded, the Nigerian Safety Investigation Bureau (NSIB) confirmed that six passengers sustained injuries and announced that an inquiry was underway. Security operatives were deployed to the scene to prevent any security breach, and the Nigerian Railway Corporation (NRC) promised a statement. Beyond the accident, it was a painful reminder of a deeper, systemic problem: the country’s failure to maintain public infrastructure.

On social media, frustration was palpable. One user lamented, “The Abuja Kaduna train is seriously tired, Allah shi kade fitina,” implying that the system had been pushed beyond its breaking point. Another voice struck a sharper tone: “Passengers have been complaining about the deteriorating quality of the Kaduna-Abuja train, yet authorities fail to take action until a major incident occurs, prompting a public outcry. Why is it difficult for us to run public services efficiently?” These comments point to a familiar cycle in Nigeria: neglect, tragedy, outrage, and then silence, until the next crisis.

This is not an isolated case. It is part of a pattern that has defined Nigeria’s rail service for decades. The Abuja–Kaduna line, inaugurated in July 2016 and financed through foreign loans, was once celebrated as a symbol of progress, a glimpse into what a modern transport network could look like. But barely a few years later, the cracks have become literal.

Between 2020–2021, multiple breakdowns left passengers stranded for hours. In May 26, 2024,  a train derailed near Jere Station as it approached Idu. Fortunately, no injuries were reported. A month later on June 5, 2024, another derailment at Asha Station stranded passengers and forced the House of Representatives to open an investigation.

According to the National Bureau of Statistics, derailments were the most frequent train accidents in Nigeria between 2020 and 2022, with a staggering 183 incidents. That figure alone is an indictment of our approach to infrastructure, building grand projects, securing headlines, cutting ribbons, and then abandoning them to rot.

The Abuja–Kaduna line was financed with an international loan as part of Nigeria’s effort to modernize its transport system. But the glamour of commissioning ceremonies often overshadows an uncomfortable truth: infrastructure is not an event but a deliberate process. It demands consistent maintenance, budgetary discipline, and technical competence, all qualities that are sorely lacking in Nigeria’s governance culture.

The absence of a maintenance culture plagues our roads, power plants, airports, and even public hospitals. Buildings collapse because they are not inspected. Bridges fail because they are not reinforced. The result is a nation locked in a perpetual cycle of construction and decay, each phase financed by new loans that deepen our debt burden without delivering lasting value.

Why does Nigeria seem to struggle with maintenance? Part of the answer lies in our governance incentives. Politicians prefer shiny new projects because they offer visibility and contracts. Things that can be easily packaged for campaigns. Maintenance, on the other hand, is invisible. There is no ribbon-cutting ceremony for fixing a rail track or servicing an engine. It doesn’t make the evening news, and so it is neglected.

This neglect is compounded by institutional weaknesses. Agencies like the NRC often lack the autonomy and resources to implement rigorous maintenance schedules. Corruption siphons off the little that is allocated. Procurement processes become opaque. And when accidents happen, elaborate inquiries are launched, grand reports are written, and nothing changes.

The solution is neither mysterious nor impossible. Countries that maintain world-class infrastructure do so through strong institutions, predictable funding, and accountability. Nigeria can replicate these models if it commits to transparency in maintenance budgets, independent technical audits, and penalties for negligence.

The Abuja–Kaduna derailment should be a wake-up call, not just for the NRC, but for a country that cannot afford to keep rebuilding what it refuses to maintain. Because in the end, the question is simple: will we learn, or will we derail again?