Budgeting Billions for Non-Existent Palaces

It is not surprising that a budget that does not make sense would set aside billions for palaces in places where there are no known kingdoms, chiefdoms, or emirates. The situation is even more disturbing when real government offices are still struggling to get funds. For example, the Federal Ministry of Health said only about seven percent of its approved capital funding was released last year. While important agencies lack money, these ghost palace projects seem to thrive.

The recent news that the 2026 federal budget has ₦5.85 billion set aside for building palaces in non-existent kingdoms shows a growing gap between the government and the citizens it should serve. At a time when many Nigerians face high prices, joblessness, poor public services, and worsening economic difficulties, palace construction should not be our main concern.

Palaces are not a priority at all. They are luxuries that show the strange mix of elite satisfaction, a loss of public trust, and widespread poverty. Knowing that no palaces actually exist to build is the peak of stealing and misusing public funds.

The oddities in the 2026 budget keep coming to light. Reports say that ₦22.15 billion is allocated for 106 projects that involve building, renovating, and furnishing traditional rulers' palaces across Nigeria. These projects are spread out across 45 Ministries, Departments, and Agencies (MDAs), even though many of these agencies have no official duty for traditional institutions or palace infrastructure.

Public scrutiny has raised major concerns about transparency and accountability. Investigations by civic groups found that 11 palace projects worth about ₦5.85 billion did not have clear locations, making it nearly impossible for citizens, auditors, and oversight bodies to track their implementation. Analysts have also questioned why palace projects are given to agencies that have no connection to traditional institutions. Such practices only make oversight harder, reduce accountability, and create chances for misuse. The lack of transparency is too obvious to be ignored as just a mistake.

The truth is that there are leakages everywhere in Nigeria’s public finance system. The little money that comes into government hands is often lost to procurement fraud, inflated contracts, and what many Nigerians call “pen robbers” within a weak and unclear bureaucracy. What is left is often redirected through suspicious projects, obscure agencies, or cleverly crafted budget insertions controlled by a small group that decides what gets funded, where funds go, and how public money disappears.

It is not surprising that a budget that does not make sense would set aside billions for palaces in places where there are no recognized chiefdoms, kingdoms, or emirates. The situation is even more troubling when actual government offices continue to face funding challenges. We remember how the Federal Ministry of Health said only about seven percent of its approved capital allocation was released last year. While deserving agencies lack funds, these ghost palace projects seem to thrive.

In many ways, these are pocket palaces, budget creations meant not to serve the community but to help move public funds into private hands. Money meant for non-existent projects ends up in Bureau de Change outlets, is changed into foreign currencies, and ultimately supports private wealth, not public development. These allocations often receive funding first because those who put them in the budget also control the machinery that allows their release. The result is growing public distrust in legislative oversight and a civil service that is increasingly seen as compromised. Citizens watch billions vanish into constituency projects and capital expenditures that are only on paper.

For many Nigerians, these allocations are not just examples of poor judgment; they show the depth of corruption and the lack of real scrutiny. More and more, citizens see the budget process as an event where public resources are traded for private gain, rather than national progress. Lawmakers who should be overseeing the budget are often seen as part of the very process they are supposed to monitor.

The controversy about these palace allocations comes at a time of serious financial limits and competing national needs. Nigeria is borrowing heavily to fund its budget while dealing with rising debt obligations. In this situation, limited public resources should go toward healthcare, education, infrastructure, agriculture, security, and social welfare. Even if palace renovations could be justified, they mostly fall under the duties of state and local governments, not the federal government.

For many Nigerians, these allocations are not just examples of poor judgment; they show the depth of corruption and the absence of real scrutiny. More and more, citizens view the budget process as a yearly event where public resources are exchanged for private gain, rather than national development. Lawmakers who should be overseeing the budget are often seen as part of the very process they are supposed to supervise.

With the ongoing issues around the so-called Presidential Foreign Intervention Promotion Council (PFIPC) and questions about its promoter, Mr. Adeniyi Adeyemi Mathew, as well as the wider scandal involving its operations and the alleged involvement of the President’s Chief of Staff, Femi Gbajabiamila, these budget revelations only strengthen public worries about governance failures. Whether these controversies get resolved or not, they give the impression of institutions failing to earn public trust.

Nigerians have long joked about politicians who promise to build skyscrapers in the sky, create bridges where there are no rivers, and deliver big projects that never happen. The allocation of billions for palaces in non-existent kingdoms is another example of this political culture. It is another reminder of the budget-padding scandals that once filled national conversations.

Sadly, many political figures tied to those earlier claims still have influence today. No serious punishments followed those scandals. When wrongdoing becomes the standard, violations turn into regular features of governance instead of rare exceptions.

A budget that allocates billions for palaces in places that do not exist, while hospitals go underfunded, schools fall apart, roads break down, and millions struggle to survive, tells us more about our priorities than any government speech could.

The billions set aside for fake palace projects could instead change lives if invested in healthcare, education, roads, water supply, or social protection programs. Such spending only helps a few privileged people while strengthening the view that the government exists mainly to protect elite interests.

The big question remains: If some of these kingdoms do not exist, who are these palaces being built for? Have we not had enough ghosts in our public institutions?

Just recently, the Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC) discovered 908 suspected ghost workers across about 50 federal MDAs and recovered around ₦942 million in fraudulent salary payments. This discovery is yet another sign that payroll fraud is deeply rooted in Nigeria’s public service.

The issues around the PFIPC, the ongoing existence of ghost workers, and the troubling budget allocations all point to the same problem: a governance culture that often shows a wealthy nation while millions of its citizens face poverty and hardship. The country’s wealth seems to be in the hands of a few, while most people suffer.

A budget that finds billions for palaces in places that do not exist, while hospitals lack funds, schools fall apart, roads break down, and millions struggle to survive, says far more about our priorities than any official speech ever could.