On 4 December 2017, in Washington DC, three signatures went onto a memorandum of understanding. Nigeria's Attorney General, Switzerland's Ambassador for International Law, and the head of the World Bank's Abuja office committed to a tripartite arrangement over three hundred and twenty one million dollars in funds that had once passed through the accounts of the family of General Sani Abacha, Nigeria's head of state from 1993 until his death in 1998. The money would go to Nigeria. But it would not simply be transferred into the federal budget. It would be channelled through the National Social Safety Net Project, a conditional cash transfer programme for the poorest Nigerian households, and the World Bank would monitor its disbursement to the same standard it applies to its own concessional lending.

This was the second major Swiss return of Abacha-linked funds. The first, in 2005 and 2006, had transferred roughly five hundred and five million dollars, and the arrangement then had been much thinner. Nigeria was asked to spend the money on health, education and infrastructure and to allow the World Bank to review that spending after it had happened. Transparency International and several Nigerian civil society groups later concluded that a significant portion of the earlier return could not be fully accounted for. The 2017 arrangement was, in part, an attempt to answer that criticism.

Taken together, the Abacha returns are the most cited example in the field of what cross-border asset recovery can achieve. Nigeria has recovered roughly four and a half billion dollars in Abacha-related funds across nearly two decades, from Switzerland, Jersey, Luxembourg, the United Kingdom and the United States. The case demonstrates, unambiguously, that stolen public wealth can be recovered when legal action, diplomatic coordination, evidence and host state cooperation come into alignment.

It also demonstrates that recovery is not the end of the story.

The point is made most sharply by a smaller and more recent case. On 9 March 2021, the United Kingdom and Nigeria signed an agreement returning four point two million pounds, recovered from associates of James Ibori, the former Governor of Delta State. Ibori had been convicted in a UK court in 2012 of money laundering and conspiracy to defraud, and sentenced to thirteen years in prison. The four point two million represented less than three per cent of the total that UK courts have confiscated from Ibori and his associates. The rest, more than one hundred million pounds ordered confiscated in a 2023 Southwark Crown Court judgment, is still being worked through.

The return was accompanied by the safeguards that a decade of learning from earlier cases now suggests are the minimum. A published memorandum. Named projects. An implementing authority, the Nigeria Sovereign Investment Authority. A civil society monitor, the Cleen Foundation, appointed under a public tender process. Annual public reporting. Independent audit.

And yet the case produced one of the most significant public disputes over asset return in recent Nigerian history. The Buhari administration directed the money to three federal infrastructure projects: the Second Niger Bridge, the Lagos to Ibadan Expressway, and the Abuja to Kano Highway. None of these projects sits in Delta State, where Ibori was Governor and from where the money was taken. Advocacy groups argued that funds stolen from a state should return to that state. One civil society network filed a case in court. There was a further complication. The Socio-Economic Rights and Accountability Project pointed out that more than six hundred million dollars in earlier Abacha-related returns had already been earmarked for the same three infrastructure projects. If the Ibori money was allocated to the same projects, was it in addition to, or in substitution for, funds previously committed?

None of this diminishes the fact of the return. Both the Abacha and Ibori cases represent real recovery, real money moving from host jurisdictions back to Nigeria, and real safeguards on their use. But the arguments that surround them clarify something the earlier stages of asset recovery scholarship tended to underplay. The moment the money crosses back is not the moment the problem is solved. It is the moment the second problem starts.

That second problem has three parts. Allocation: recovered funds have to go somewhere, and the choice of destination is a political decision as well as a financial one. Monitoring: independent oversight is only as effective as its access to primary financial data and its ability to be heard when it raises concerns. Visibility: public legitimacy depends on citizens being able to see that returned wealth has produced concrete public benefit, and where recovered funds are dispersed across large federal projects that were already going to be delivered from other budgets, the money risks becoming invisible in the wider ledger.

The Nigerian record shows that recovery, on its own, is insufficient. A state that recovers stolen wealth without a credible governance framework in place for how it will be used is a state that has won half a battle and left the second half to chance.

Recovery is not the same as restoration.

For a claimant state, the Abacha and Ibori experiences point at the same practical conclusion. When it approaches the international system for help recovering stolen wealth, its counterparts will increasingly want to see the second half of the plan before they commit to the first. Named use categories. Monitoring arrangements. Reporting cycles. Audit frameworks. A visible link between recovered funds and public benefit. These are becoming preconditions of recovery, not additions to it.

That is what the next generation of asset recovery has to be built to deliver.