Hope is not a strategy

As a new year begins, many Nigerian small business owners and individuals alike are leaning heavily on hope. I hope that inflation will ease. I hope that the naira will stabilise. Sales will improve. Costs will stabilise. Customers will return. Hope, in itself, is not a bad thing. In fact, optimism is often what keeps entrepreneurs going through difficult periods. However, hope is not a strategy, and confusing the two is a costly mistake.

Nigeria’s economic realities demand more than optimism. Inflation remains high despite a rebased CPI methodology leading to a reduced headline inflation of 15.15% in December; interest rates remain elevated, with the MPR at 27%. Thus, making access to credit tight, and operating costs continue to rise. Consumer purchasing power is still squeezed by years of cumulative pressure, and policy shifts often arrive without warning. These conditions do not improve because a new calendar year has started. For small businesses and individuals trying to get ahead, survival and progress depend on preparation, not optimism.

For small business owners, uncertainty might be considered a constant feature of doing business in Nigeria. Exchange rate volatility affects import costs and pricing decisions. Weak consumer purchasing power limits demand. Weak demand limits how much businesses can pass rising costs on to customers. For individuals, salaries rarely keep pace with inflation, and job security is fragile. Hoping for stability is passive. Strategy assumes volatility and plans around it. Planning means asking uncomfortable questions early: What happens if costs rise further? How much pricing power do we really have? How long can the business survive if sales fall short of expectations?

In practice, hope often shows up as delay. I have watched small retailers delay price changes until margins disappeared entirely because customers might complain. Delayed cost adjustments because things may improve. Delayed skill acquisition because time or money is tight. Many small businesses postpone tough choices in the belief that conditions will improve before action becomes necessary. In reality, delays often shrink the range of available options and increase vulnerability.

Strategy, by contrast, forces clarity. For small businesses, this means knowing the numbers clearly, not roughly. What if costs rise another 5-10%? Which products or services are profitable, and which simply keep the business busy? How long can the business survive if sales fall for three or six months? What will be the scenario plan for best-case, base-case, and worst-case outcomes? These are uncomfortable questions, but they separate businesses that endure from those that disappear.

The same discipline applies to ambitious individuals. Careers in Nigeria do not advance on hope alone. Promotion, mobility, or migration opportunities are increasingly competitive. Individuals who progress do so because they invest deliberately in scarce, marketable skills and build networks that compound over time. Hard work matters, but effort without direction rarely changes outcomes.

There is a popular saying that culture eats strategy for breakfast. Culture sits between hope and strategy. In an environment where institutions are unreliable and outcomes unpredictable, hope has become a cultural coping mechanism. Nigerians have learnt to expect disruption and adapt quickly. This has produced resilience and entrepreneurial energy. But it has also normalised short-term planning horizons and crisis management as a default mode of operation.

Nigeria celebrates hustle, but hustle without structure leads to exhaustion, not growth. Many small businesses remain trapped in survival mode: busy, stressed, and vulnerable because activity is mistaken for progress. Similarly, many individuals stay stuck because they confuse motion with momentum.

The new year should therefore be approached as a strategic audit, not a motivational ritual. For businesses, this may mean revisiting pricing, renegotiating suppliers, reducing waste, investing in basic systems, or narrowing focus. For individuals, it may mean upgrading skills, changing industries, building savings buffers, or abandoning paths that no longer make economic sense.

Access to capital is another area where hope often replaces preparation. Many Nigerian businesses assume funding will appear when needed. Many individuals assume opportunity will come through chance. In reality, banks, investors, and employers respond to evidence of discipline, clear records, credible plans, and consistent execution. Capital and opportunity flow toward preparation, not optimism.

Although hope is not a strategy, it still has a place. Hope on its own does not replace planning, discipline, or execution. But without hope, even the best strategies lose their energy. Hope is what gives you the courage to think clearly in uncertainty, to plan in the middle of pressure, and to keep building when outcomes are not yet visible. Strategy gives direction. Hope gives endurance. We all need both.

As the year begins, Nigerians building businesses or careers should ask a simple question: if conditions remain exactly as they were in 2025, will my approach deliver better results by the 2026 year-end? If the answer is unclear, hope will not close the gap.

In Nigeria’s economy, progress belongs to those who plan deliberately, adapt quickly, and execute consistently. Hope may inspire the journey, but strategy is what determines the destination.

Mayowa Oyatogun is a strategy & business planning specialist and writes from London.