In a country teeming with youth and innovation, where nearly every street corner tells a story of ambition waiting to bloom, Akinwumi Adesina, President of the African Development Bank (AfDB), has offered a blunt verdict on the financial system that governs it: it was never meant for the youth.

Speaking on Channels Television on Thursday, Adesina, a former Nigerian Minister of Agriculture and one of Africa’s foremost economists, did not mince words. He accused commercial banks in Nigeria and across the continent of systematically shutting the doors on the very generation that carries Africa’s future in its hands.

A System Built for the Old, By the Old

Adesina’s critique goes beyond surface-level complaints about difficult loan procedures. He paints a picture of a banking system whose architecture is fundamentally rigged against young people—one that treats youthful ambition as a liability rather than an asset.

“You walk into the bank, and you see young people, 21 years old, coming in. In your risk assessment, the only thing you see is risk, risk, risk,” Adesina said. “And so you go ask them for securities that they need to bring to you—‘do you have a house, do you have a land, do you have tax for the last 40 years?’ But they’re only 21 years old.”

For most young Nigerians, these demands aren’t just steep—they’re impossible. Many are just emerging from university, hustling through the country’s ballooning unemployment and underemployment crisis, trying to turn coding skills, fashion design, or agritech ideas into tangible enterprises. But when they turn to banks, they are told to return with what they don’t have – collateral.

465 Million Youths, One Broken System

Adesina’s frustration stems from the sheer scale of the problem. Africa is home to more than 465 million young people between the ages of 15 and 35. In Nigeria alone, youth account for over 60 percent of the population. And yet, the financial sector across much of the continent continues to operate on outdated risk models and rigid credit structures that ignore the continent’s evolving demographic realities.

“The commercial banking system, the financial system, has failed young people in Africa,” he said, putting the matter plainly.

It shows every day in the statistics of failed startups, in the stories of dreams deferred, and most visibly in the growing wave of youth emigration, now widely known in Nigeria as the “japa syndrome.” For Adesina, the brain drain isn’t just a tragic consequence of bad governance, it’s a reflection of a system that refuses to back its youth.

No More Freebies. Fund Ideas, Not Slogans

One of the more striking elements of Adesina’s comments was his rejection of tokenistic government and NGO-run youth programs that often dominate headlines but deliver little in actual support.

“First and foremost, is to recognize that young people don’t need freebies,” he said. “We don’t need people just saying, ‘Oh well, I just want to give you a youth empowerment program.’ What does that mean?”

According to Adesina, the real solution lies in access to capital, and not as a handout, but as a real investment. He urged banks to abandon the conservative thinking that sees youth as high-risk by default and to embrace bold, strategic investments in their ventures.

“They need capital. They need you to put your money at risk on their behalf,” he said, calling for a rethink of risk assessment models that currently penalize innovation.

Why This Matters Now

Adesina’s remarks come at a time when Nigeria is struggling to curb rising unemployment, with youth joblessness hovering around 53 percent, according to estimates from local economists. The country’s micro, small, and medium enterprises (MSMEs) are considered its economic backbone, yet many of them operate informally or remain stunted due to a lack of financing.

The Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) has, in the past, rolled out credit schemes targeting youth and SMEs. However, many such programs have faced implementation bottlenecks, corruption allegations, or have been mired in political patronage.

Adesina’s comments suggest that unless commercial banks, not just central authorities, step up to back the next generation, the country risks losing both its workforce and its entrepreneurial spark.

The AfDB President’s message is as much a challenge as it is a condemnation. For Nigerian banks that post billions in profit annually while offering little to the country’s young, he is calling for a shift not just in policy, but in mindset.

“Rethink your risk models,” he said. “Invest in the future. Our people are our greatest asset.”

Adesina’s words come as more young Nigerians weigh the option of fleeing to countries with friendlier climates for talent and capital. His call is expected to stimulate action, not just the banks, but an entire ecosystem that seems unwilling to bet on the very people who could transform it.

In a striking moment at Thursday’s Cabinet meeting, President Donald Trump hinted that his high-profile partnership with Elon Musk may soon come to an end, raising questions about the future of one of Washington’s most watched alliances.

Trump’s remarks, delivered with Musk seated nearby, underscored a relationship strained by policy disagreements and the mounting costs of Musk’s role as a vocal supporter, particularly as his leadership at the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) sparks chaos and backlash that threatens his business empire.

Trump’s statement came during a discussion at the White House, where he praised Musk’s contributions but pointedly distanced himself.

“Elon has done a fantastic job. Look, he’s sitting here, and I don’t care. I don’t need Elon for anything other than I happen to like him,” Trump told reporters.

The comment, laced with casual dismissal, suggests a deliberate pivot from a partnership that has defined much of Trump’s second term. Sources close to the administration point to Musk’s temporary status as a special government employee, limited by federal law to 130 days of service in a year, as a key factor. Trump himself fueled speculation last week, stating on April 3 that Musk would likely leave “in a few months,” a timeline echoed by White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt in an X post on April 2, which confirmed Musk’s exit once his DOGE work concludes.

Musk’s tenure at DOGE has been nothing short of seismic. Tasked with slashing government spending, he announced plans to cut $150 billion for the 2026 fiscal year, laying off thousands of federal workers and shuttering foreign aid programs. These moves, aimed at streamlining bureaucracy, have instead unleashed turmoil across agencies, with critics decrying the rapid pace and human toll.

The fallout has spilled beyond government corridors, hitting Musk’s personal and corporate interests hard. Tesla, his flagship company, has become a lightning rod for public anger, with showrooms targeted by protests and owners reporting vandalized or burned vehicles. During a Tesla all-hands meeting last month, Musk lamented the apocalyptic media coverage, saying, “I can’t walk past the TV without seeing a Tesla on fire,” and urged detractors to criticize without destroying his products.

Musk’s unwavering support for Trump has come at a steep price. His $277 million in contributions to Trump and GOP candidates in the 2024 elections cemented his role as a political powerhouse, while public appearances—like last month’s White House event where Trump test-drove a red Tesla Model S—cast him as a loyal ally. Trump recounted the purchase on Thursday, framing it as a “show of support” for Musk, though he emphasized paying full price.

“They said, ‘Oh, did you get a bargain?’ No. I said, ‘Give me the top price,’” he said.

However, this loyalty has cost Musk dearly. Tesla’s brand is under siege, its reputation tangled in the controversy surrounding DOGE’s cuts, and Musk’s personal fortune faces pressure as investors question his divided focus.

Adding to the strain is a growing policy rift, most notably over trade. Musk, a vocal advocate for open markets, has pushed for zero-tariff economic ties, recently calling for a “free trade zone” between the US and Europe during a meeting with Italy’s League Party on April 5. This stance clashes with Trump’s recent announcement of sweeping tariffs on over 180 countries, a protectionist move that could disrupt Tesla’s global supply chain and raise costs for consumers.

Musk’s frustration surfaced in a sharp critique of Trump’s top advisor, Peter Navarro, whom he called “dumber than a sack of bricks” after Navarro referred to him as a “car assembler.” The exchange highlights a broader divide: Musk’s globalist vision versus Trump’s America-first agenda, a tension that may hasten their parting.

Despite the cracks, some in Trump’s circle see a future for Musk beyond DOGE. Vice President JD Vance told Fox News last week that Musk could remain an advisor after his formal role ends, though details remain unclear. For now, Musk’s smile and nod during Trump’s Cabinet meeting remarks belied the uncertainty ahead. As he navigates the fallout from DOGE and Tesla’s challenges, Musk faces a pivotal moment: step back from the political fray to salvage his businesses or double down on a waning alliance.

The Trump-Musk saga, once a symbol of bold collaboration, now teeters on the edge of separation. With tariffs looming and DOGE’s disruptions reverberating, the question isn’t just when Musk will leave, but whether their shared vision can endure the fallout.

The situation with Chinese companies on Amazon facing U.S. tariffs is a messy one. Tariffs, which act like a tax on imports, jack up the cost of goods coming from China. For these sellers, it’s a gut punch—either they raise prices to cover the extra costs, or they eat the loss and risk going under. Some are already talking about pulling out of the U.S. market entirely because the math just doesn’t add up anymore.

On one hand, hiking prices could push away customers who are used to cheap deals on Amazon. U.S. consumers might grumble, but they’ll likely still pay for stuff they need. On the other hand, exiting the market means losing access to a massive chunk of revenue—China’s sellers make up a huge portion of Amazon’s marketplace, with billions in sales. Moving production to places like Vietnam or Mexico is an option, but it’s not a quick fix; setting up new supply chains takes time and money.

The tariffs are also a double-edged sword. They’re meant to protect U.S. businesses by making foreign goods pricier, but they could backfire. Higher prices might fuel inflation, and small American sellers who rely on Chinese manufacturing are getting squeezed too. Plus, Amazon itself isn’t immune—its whole low-price model gets wobbly if sellers pass on costs or bail.

Both sides have their logic. Tariffs could force companies to rethink reliance on China, maybe even bring some manufacturing back to the U.S. But in the short term, it’s chaos—higher prices, supply chain headaches, and probably some empty virtual shelves. Long term, it depends on how stubborn everyone gets. If tariffs stick, Chinese sellers might pivot to other markets like Europe or Southeast Asia, and Amazon could see a shakeup in who’s selling what. If they fold under pressure, things might stabilize, but don’t hold your breath for that anytime soon.

If Chinese sellers pass on tariff costs, expect pricier goods on Amazon—everything from electronics to clothes. Shoppers might grumble, but many will still buy essentials, squeezing budgets. Inflation could tick up if this spreads across enough products, especially since Chinese sellers dominate categories like home goods and tech accessories.

If sellers quit the U.S. market, Amazon could face inventory shortages. Fewer options mean less competition, which often leads to even higher prices. Smaller U.S. sellers who rely on Chinese manufacturers might also struggle, either raising their own prices or getting stuck with delayed shipments. Amazon’s business thrives on low prices and variety. Price hikes could push customers to competitors like Walmart or eBay, while a mass exodus of sellers might thin out product listings, denting the platform’s appeal.

Amazon’s stock ($AMZN) could take a hit if investors see its marketplace losing steam, though its logistics and cloud arms might cushion the blow. Tariffs aim to level the playing field for American businesses, but it’s not all rosy. Small U.S. sellers sourcing from China face the same cost spikes, and scaling up domestic production isn’t quick or cheap. Some might gain market share if Chinese competitors bail, but only those already positioned to pivot fast.

Chinese companies might redirect focus to markets like Europe, Southeast Asia, or Latin America, where tariffs don’t bite as hard. Some could relocate production to countries like Vietnam or India, but that takes years and big bucks. This could reshape global supply chains, with ripple effects on shipping costs and trade balances. Higher consumer prices could stoke inflation, a headache for policymakers already juggling growth and interest rates. Tariffs might create some U.S. jobs long term but risk short-term pain—lost sales for Amazon-dependent businesses, higher costs for startups.

Politically, it’s a gamble; voters love “tough on China” talk but hate paying more at checkout. Tariffs could force a reckoning on over-reliance on Chinese goods, potentially strengthening U.S. manufacturing. But the immediate hit—price spikes, shortages, and small-business pain—could sour consumers and rattle markets. If tariffs stick, expect a rocky transition; if they soften, things might stabilize, but global trade’s already shifting fast.