Feature/OPED
Africa is Watching: Will Nigeria Kill or Save its Largest Private Industrial Project?
By Mohammed Basah
When a union issues a directive that cripples an industrial asset, it is not only exercising power — it is choosing to operate outside the rules. The standoff between PENGASSAN and Dangote Refinery is no ordinary labour conflict. At stake is Nigeria’s credibility, energy security, and its claim that large-scale industrial projects can thrive here. The law is clear: unions in essential services cannot simply shut down supply lines without following prescribed procedures. PENGASSAN’s apparent bypassing of those rules places the refinery on the brink, and threatens to undo its promise before it has fully taken shape.
The Trade Disputes Act (TDA) sets out exactly what must happen before workers in essential services may lawfully cease work. In particular, Section 18 demands that parties must seek to resolve disputes through negotiation, mediation, and arbitration before any strike or stoppage. Strikes — or the shutting of valves — in essential sectors must follow that strict path. Then, Section 41 of the TDA mandates that any worker in essential service who stops work must give fifteen days’ notice to employer and government, unless they can prove they were unaware that closing operations would substantially deprive the community of an essential service. (TDA Section 41(1)).
These rules exist for good reason: a refinery is not like a picket line in hospitality. Its operations connect to national supply chains, foreign exchange balances, fuel distribution, and ultimately, the stability of the naira. When PENGASSAN ordered the halt of crude and gas supply to Dangote — without any public record that the 15-day notice was given or that all mediation/arbitration steps were exhausted — it risked acting as a rogue actor above the law.
Indeed, recent court injunctions restraining union leaders from blocking supplies suggest that the judiciary already finds merit in the claim that PENGASSAN’s actions skirt legal boundaries. Yet in public statements, union leaders justify the shutdowns as necessary pushback against alleged mass dismissals of unionised workers and what they see as a betrayal of promise. On their side, Dangote management insists it must preserve operational integrity, guard against sabotage, and protect shareholder capital in the midst of global margins and foreign exchange volatility.
Both sides carry legitimate concerns. Workers deserve fair treatment and enforcement of union rights; investors demand certainty and rule of law. But in this conflict, PENGASSAN’s approach is legally untenable. The law does not permit unilateral shutdowns in essential services while alternative dispute resolution is ongoing, and while notice obligations remain unmet.
More than that, this refinery is not just a factory: it is Nigeria’s industrial reputation on the line. We must force ourselves to see it as a shared national asset. For years, the country has imported refined petroleum despite exporting crude — bleeding forex for lack of domestic refining capacity. Dangote built one of the most ambitious refineries on the continent precisely to reverse that paradox. If this refinery fails now, the message will be chilling: even when we build, we cannot protect.
Yes, the union is powerful. Yes, the grievances may be real. But rule of law is higher. If the law means nothing, then industrial peace means nothing. If unions may break the rules when pressured, management might act with impunity when threatened, and governance systems unravel.
We cannot accept a system where a union, by decree, shuts down oil production without due process. That is tantamount to running a nation hostage. The President, as commander-in-chief and guardian of stability, must intervene decisively. He must compel all parties to resume fair process and stop any action that threatens national supply or economic order. He must declare that no actor, whether corporate or union, is above legal obligation.
Nigeria owes itself (and Africa) a demonstration that we can build and manage projects of scale in a lawful, disciplined way. Dangote Refinery represents one of our clearest chances. It is too valuable to collapse under dispute tactics. The refinery must not die because we treat laws as optional.
We must demand: follow the protocol. Respect workers. Protect infrastructure. Build trust and enforce accountability. Only then will Nigeria prove that its industrial dreams are not built on fumes and fantasies, but on integrity, process, and shared resolve.
Mohammed Basah is a social-impact communications strategist and development advocate. He is the Founder/CEO of Ideas Foundry Limited and Chief Curator of Entrepreneurship Tonic, a digital platform for inspiring and training young and aspiring entrepreneurs. He also serves as Programmes Director of the PROVOQIT Transparency and Accountability Project, focusing on governance, civic engagement and youth economic empowerment.
Feature/OPED
Preventing Financial Crimes Amid Mounting Insecurity: Why Following the Money is Now a Survival Imperative
By Blaise Udunze
Nigeria today faces a sobering dual reality: a deepening security crisis and an entrenched financial-crime ecosystem that quietly feeds, sustains, and normalises that crisis. Across the North, Middle Belt, and parts of the South, kidnappers, bandits, insurgent cells, political actors, compromised security agents, and a complex chain of financial facilitators operate within a shadow economy of violence, one that generates billions, claims thousands of lives, and steadily erodes the authority of the state.
For over a decade, security experts and Nigeria’s international partners have warned that no meaningful progress will be made against insecurity unless the financial oxygen sustaining violence is cut off. Yet the country continues to prosecute its anti-terrorism efforts largely through military responses, as though the conflict could be resolved solely on the battlefield. What remains missing is a decisive, transparent, and politically courageous confrontation with the economic networks that make insecurity profitable.
This war is not only about guns and bullets. It is about money.
Money moves fighters.
Money buys weapons.
Money fuels political desperation.
Money underwrites chaos.
Until Nigeria addresses the financial pipelines behind its insecurity, the crisis will continue to reproduce itself.
Kidnapping: The Lucrative ‘War Fund’ Sustaining Insurgency
The rise in mass kidnappings is neither accidental nor spontaneous. It has evolved into a rational, structured, revenue-generating enterprise.
Appearing on Channels TV’s Politics Today in October 2025, Yusuf Datti Baba-Ahmed warned that insurgent and bandit groups now treat ransom payments as reliable “war funds.” The data support his claim.
A 2024 survey by the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) found that Nigerians paid N2.2 trillion in ransom between May 2023 and April 2024. This astonishing sum does not account for unreported payments made through informal negotiators, mobile transfers, or unregulated community channels.
Kidnapping has matured into a fully formed economy with well-defined roles: negotiators, informants, logistics providers, cash couriers, and security collaborators. Proceeds are reinvested in weapons, motorcycles, communication devices, safe houses, and even land acquisitions.
In the words of a security analyst, “Every successful kidnapping is a fundraiser.”
Sabotage from Within: Keffi’s Explosive Memo and a System Built to Fail
If Nigeria’s external security threats are troubling, the internal compromises are even more alarming.
A leaked memo by Major General Mohammed Ali Keffi accused senior government and military officials of diverting billions of naira earmarked for arms procurement under former Chief of Army Staff, Lt. Gen. Tukur Buratai. Keffi’s allegations included:
– Weapons paid for but never delivered
– Falsified battlefield reports
– Civilian casualties mislabelled to justify inflated expenditures
– Political interference obstructing investigations into terror financing
His claims echoed the earlier warning by Gen. T.Y. Danjuma, who accused sections of the military of working in concert with armed groups and abandoning vulnerable communities.
Keffi’s memo became even more consequential following the 2025 detention of former Attorney General Abubakar Malami by the EFCC over allegations of money laundering, terrorism financing and suspicious financial activity linked to 46 bank accounts.
Together, these revelations paint a disturbing picture: even as Nigerians endure mass abductions, elements within the political and security elite appear to be enabling or shielding the financial networks behind the violence.
Why the Crisis Persists: A Financial Crime Lens
Nigeria’s insecurity cannot be divorced from the environment in which illicit finance thrives. Key enablers include:
- Informal Economies and Unregulated Cash Flows
With over 70 percent of rural transactions still cash-based, terror groups exploit:
– Hawala networks
– POS and mobile-money agents
– Cattle markets and mining sites
– Barter systems centred on livestock and grains
These channels operate beyond the reach of AML/CFT systems.
- Identity Fraud and Weak KYC Enforcement
– Criminal networks routinely open accounts with:
– Fake NINs
– Compromised SIM cards
– Recycled BVNs
– Mule identities
- Collusion within Financial Institutions
The EFCC estimates that up to 70 percent of financial crimes involve bank personnel, primarily through:
– Unauthorised cash withdrawals
– Suppressed Suspicious Transaction Reports (STRs)
– Manipulated internal alerts
- Weak Prosecution and Political Interference
Cases drag on for years, and many evaporate entirely before reaching court often due to political considerations.
- Ungoverned Spaces
Large territories across the North serve as hubs for:
– Arms trafficking
– Illegal mining
– Kidnap-for-ransom camps
– Cross-border smuggling
Public Patience Thins: NLC Moves to the Streets
Public frustration is reaching a boiling point. On December 10, the Nigeria Labour Congress (NLC) announced a nationwide protest scheduled for December 17, citing the “degenerating security situation” and the rise in mass abductions.
The NLC condemned the November 17 abduction of female students in Kebbi, noting that security personnel had been withdrawn from the school shortly before the attack. The union called the act “dastardly and criminal” and directed all affiliates and civil-society partners to fully mobilise for the protest.
This marks a significant shift. For the first time in years, Nigeria’s most influential labour body is placing insecurity at the centre of national mobilization, further underscoring the argument that the current crisis is not simply a security failure but a systemic breakdown of governance, accountability, and financial integrity.
The Financial Engine of Terror: The 23 Suspects Who Moved Billions
A Sahara Reporters investigation uncovered a network of 20 Nigerians and three foreign nationals allegedly linked to the financing of Boko Haram and ISWAP. Their transactions, running into hundreds of billions, were quietly channeled through personal and corporate accounts.
Among those named:
– Alhaji Saidu Ahmed, Zaria businessman: N4.8bn inflows
– Usaini Adamu, Kano trader with 111 accounts: N43bn inflows, N50bn outflows
– Muhammad Sani Adam, forex and precious stones dealer: N54bn across 41 accounts
– Yusuf Ghazali, a forex trader linked to UAE-convicted terrorists, operated 385 accounts
– Ladan Ibrahim, a Sokoto official, is accused of diverting public funds
– Foreign actors included the late Tribert Ayabatwa (N67bn inflows) and Nigerien arms dealer Aboubacar Hima, who moved over $1.19 million.
Strikingly, several of the suspects arrested in 2021 were quietly released without trial, continuing a pattern of impervious investigations and political bottlenecks.
This network confirms a painful truth: Nigeria’s insecurity is not driven solely by men wielding rifles in the bush. It is sustained by individuals in cities, businesses, and bureaucracies, people with access, influence, and remarkable financial mobility.
The Political Dimension: Irabor’s Revelation and the Unnamed Sponsors
The political undertone of Nigeria’s insecurity was reinforced by the former Chief of Defence Staff, Gen. Lucky Irabor (rtd), who admitted that politicians were among those financing terror groups. According to him, some trials were conducted “away from public consumption.”
His statement revived key questions:
– Why is the state shielding the identities of terror sponsors?
– Who benefits from the secrecy?
– What political consequences are being avoided?
Security sources told TruthNigeria that Nigeria’s published list of 19 terror financiers in 2024 represented only a fraction of the full network.
Baba-Ahmed’s accusation that former Kaduna Governor Nasir El-Rufai was part of the political forces that aggravated Northern insecurity, an accusation the former governor has previously denied, adds further urgency to demands for transparency.
The Human Cost: Expanding Killing Fields
Despite repeated assurances, violence continues to spread:
– 303 students and 12 teachers abducted in Niger State
– 38 worshippers kidnapped in Kwara
– Simultaneous raids across Plateau, Kaduna, Benue, and Niger
– Whole communities uprooted by weekly attacks
As Amnesty International observed, “In many rural communities, only the graveyards are expanding.”
SBM Intelligence now describes large portions of the North as “open killing fields,” areas where the state’s influence has collapsed, and community vigilantes have become the default security providers.
Expert Voices: Why Nigeria Must Finally Follow the Money
Security experts converge on a single message: Nigeria cannot defeat terrorism without dismantling its financial infrastructure. Dr. Friday Agbo, a security researcher, disclosed, “Terror groups survive because their financial lifelines remain untouched.”
Jonathan Asake, analyst and former SOKAPU president, said, “Publish the full Dubai list. Without transparency, impunity will remain the norm.”
Gen. Irabor (rtd.) revealed, “There are politicians involved. The conflict is multi-layered: ideology, criminality, and political manipulation.”
These assessments underscore one reality: ideology is secondary. Money is primary. It is the oxygen of Nigeria’s terror landscape.
What Must Change
Nigeria must elevate financial crime to the level of a national-security emergency. Key reforms include:
– Integrating BVN-NIN-SIM identity databases and upgrading real-time monitoring
– Targeting illicit markets: illegal mining hubs, cattle markets, unregulated border posts
– Deploying AI-driven analytics to detect layered transactions, mule networks, and ransom flows
– Strengthening bank compliance units and protecting whistleblowers
– Improving inter-agency intelligence sharing (EFCC, NFIU, DSS, NDLEA, Police, CBN)
– Criminalising unexplained wealth, especially in conflict zones
– Investing in safe-school infrastructure, rural policing, and local reporting channels
Choosing Truth Over Convenience
Nigeria’s two-front war is neither mysterious nor new. It is a well-documented, financially engineered crisis protected by silence, vested interests, and institutional decay. The NLC’s mobilisation signals a turning point; citizens are unwilling to accept official evasions while insecurity intensifies. To end this crisis, Nigeria must:
– Expose and prosecute terror financiers
– Purge corrupt insiders in the security system
– Dismantle ransom economies
– Strengthen financial intelligence
– End political protection for criminal networks
Until these reforms are pursued with integrity, billions will continue to move, weapons will continue to flow, and Nigeria will continue to bleed.
Blaise, a journalist and PR professional, writes from Lagos, can be reached via: [email protected]
Feature/OPED
Championing Ethical Sourcing Within Dairy Communities
Human Rights Day often centres on themes of dignity, equity, and freedom. Yet for many Nigerians, these rights are not debated in courtrooms they are expressed in the ability to access nutritious food, build meaningful livelihoods, and secure a healthy future for their families. Nutrition, in this sense, becomes a fundamental human right.
Despite a growing population and rising nutrition needs, Nigeria faces a pressing dairy reality. The country remains heavily dependent on dairy imports, leaving nutritional access vulnerable and local capacity underdeveloped. This is not just an economic concern; it is a human one. When families cannot easily access affordable, high-quality dairy, the foundations of health and development are weakened.
It is within this context that Arla Nigeria operates not merely as a dairy company, but as a nutrition powerhouse committed to nourishing a nation. Our ambition extends beyond selling products. We are working to build the foundations of a stronger, more resilient local dairy sector that supports food security, economic participation, and national progress.
At the heart of our efforts is the Damau Integrated Dairy Farm in Kaduna Statea fully operational modern farm designed to demonstrate what responsible, efficient, and scalable dairy production can look like in Nigeria. Arla Nigeria produces its own milk on-site, ensuring quality, safety, and consistency as we continue building the systems required for a sustainable local value chain. In fact, until our yoghurt factory launches, the reverse is true: some stakeholders purchase milk from us.
But infrastructure alone is not the story. What truly matters is the human impact surrounding the farm.
Arla Nigeria has been intentional about engaging and empowering the communities around Damau. By creating employment opportunities for local residents, providing skills development, and contributing to community growth, we are ensuring that the benefits of dairy development extend beyond production lines. This is development rooted in people where progress is measured in livelihoods improved and opportunities created.
As Arla Nigeria continues to expand operations, our long-term commitment remains clear: to contribute meaningfully to local milk sourcing and value chain development, strengthening Nigeria’s capacity to feed itself. Backward integration is not a slogan for Arla Foods; it is a structured pathway with building responsibly and sustainably. From farm systems to future household milk initiatives, the goal is to create a model that supports farmers, enhances productivity, and drives economic inclusion in the years ahead.
On Human Rights Day, the conversation often revolves around preventing harm avoiding exploitation, ensuring fair labour, and upholding ethical standards. These are essential, but they are only the beginning. True respect for human rights means creating enabling systems that allow people to thrive.
With Arla Foods, that begins with nutrition. Milk is a super food, rich in essential nutrients that support growth and development. Ensuring access to such nutrition contributes directly to national well-being and productivity. When we help secure a healthier population, we strengthen the foundation for education, economic participation, and long-term prosperity.
This is why Arla believes that dairy is not just food it is nutrition, livelihood, and progress. By investing in sustainable production, community development, and future local sourcing capabilities, Arla Nigeria is contributing to food security and economic growth in a tangible, measurable way.
Ultimately, ethical business is not defined by corporate language or labels. It is defined by the stability, nourishment, and dignity it brings to people’s lives. As Nigeria celebrates Human Rights Day, let us recognise that the right to nutrition and the opportunity to build a better future are among the most powerful rights we can help protect.
Feature/OPED
In Praise of Nigeria’s Elite Memory Loss Clinic
By Busayo Cole
There’s an unacknowledged marvel in Nigeria, a national institution so revered and influential that its very mention invokes awe; and not a small dose of amnesia. I’m speaking, of course, about the glorious Memory Loss Clinic for the Elite, a facility where unsolved corruption cases go to receive a lifetime membership in our collective oblivion.
Take a walk down the memory lane of scandals past, and you’ll encounter a magical fog. Who remembers the details of the N2.5 billion pension fund scam? Anyone? No? Good. That’s exactly how the clinic works. Through a combination of political gymnastics, endless court adjournments, and public desensitisation, these cases are carefully wrapped in a blanket of vagueness. Brilliant, isn’t it?
The beauty of this clinic lies in its inclusivity. From the infamous Dasukigate, which popularised the phrase “arms deal” in Nigeria without actually arming anything, to the less publicised but equally mystifying NDDC palliative fund saga, the clinic accepts all cases with the same efficiency. Once enrolled, each scandal receives a standard treatment: strategic denial, temporary outrage, and finally, oblivion.
Not to be overlooked are the esteemed practitioners at this clinic: our very own politicians and public officials. Their commitment to forgetting is nothing short of Nobel-worthy. Have you noticed how effortlessly some officials transition from answering allegations one week to delivering keynote speeches on accountability the next? It’s an art form.
Then there’s the media, always ready to lend a hand. Investigative journalists dig up cases, splash them across headlines for a week or two, and then move on to the next crisis, leaving the current scandal to the skilled hands of the clinic’s erasure team. No one does closure better than us. Or rather, the lack thereof.
And let’s not forget the loyal citizens, the true heroes of this operation. We rant on social media, organise a protest or two, and then poof! Our collective short attention span is the lifeblood of the Memory Loss Clinic. Why insist on justice when you can unlook?
Take, for example, the Halliburton Scandal. In 2009, a Board of Inquiry was established under the leadership of Inspector-General of Police, Mike Okiro, to investigate allegations of a $182 million bribery scheme involving the American company Halliburton and some former Nigerian Heads of State. Despite Halliburton admitting to paying the bribes to secure a $6 billion contract for a natural gas plant, the case remains unresolved. The United States fined the companies involved, but in Nigeria, the victims of the corruption: ordinary citizens, received no compensation, and no one was brought to justice. The investigation, it seems, was yet another patient admitted to the clinic.
Or consider the Petroleum Trust Fund Probe, which unraveled in the late 1990s. Established during General Sani Abacha’s regime and managed by Major-General Muhammadu Buhari, the PTF’s operations were scrutinised when Chief Olusegun Obasanjo assumed office in 1999. The winding-down process uncovered allegations of mismanagement, dubious dealings, and a sudden, dramatic death of a key figure, Salihijo Ahmad, the head of the PTF’s sole management consultant. Despite the drama and the revelations, the case quietly faded into obscurity, leaving Nigerians with more questions than answers.
Then there is the colossal case of under-remittance of oil and gas royalties and taxes. The Federal Government, through the Special Presidential Investigatory Panel (SPIP), accused oil giants like Shell, Agip, and the NNPC of diverting billions of dollars meant for public coffers. Allegations ranged from falsified production figures to outright embezzlement. Despite detailed accusations and court proceedings, the cases were abandoned after the SPIP’s disbandment in 2019. As usual, the trail of accountability disappeared into thin air, leaving the funds unaccounted for and the public betrayed yet again.
Of course, this institution isn’t without its critics. Some stubborn Nigerians still insist on remembering. Creating spreadsheets, tracking cases, and daring to demand accountability. To these radicals, I say: why fight the tide? Embrace the convenience of selective amnesia. Life is easier when you don’t worry about where billions disappeared to or why someone’s cousin’s uncle’s housemaid’s driver has an oil block.
As World Anti-Corruption Day comes and goes, let us celebrate the true innovation of our time. While other nations are busy prosecuting offenders and recovering stolen funds, we have mastered the fine art of forgetting. Who needs convictions when you have a clinic this efficient? Oh, I almost forgot the anti-corruption day as I sent my draft to a correspondent very late. Don’t blame me, I am just a regular at the clinic.
So, here’s to Nigeria’s Memory Loss Clinic, a shining beacon of how to “move on” without actually moving forward. May it continue to thrive, because let’s face it: without it, what would we do with all these unsolved corruption cases? Demand justice? That’s asking a lot. Better to forget and focus on the next election season. Who knows? We might even re-elect a client of the clinic. Wouldn’t that be poetic?
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a new scandal to ignore.
Busayo Cole is a Branding and Communications Manager who transforms abstract corporate goals into actionable, sparkling messaging. It’s rumored that 90% of his strategic clarity is powered by triple-shot espresso, and the remaining 10% is sheer panic. He can be reached via busayo@busayocole.com.
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