By Simon Kolawole
NIGERIANS have been invited to troop to the streets in their millions from Thursday, August 1, to protest the harsh economic situation following the dramatic rise in the cost of living in the last one year. The protest is slated to last for two weeks. The demands are not very clear yet but the theme is centred on the hunger in the land. In just one year, diesel price doubled, petrol price tripled, official exchange rates tripled and “Band A” electricity tariffs tripled. Prices of foodstuffs and medicines have doubled or tripled or even quadrupled. This is by a distance one of the worst cost of living crises in the history of Nigeria — and, trust me, we have had quite a history in the last four decades.
I suspect that the inspiration for the planned protest came from Kenya, where citizens trooped to the streets to oppose proposed tax rises. Not surprisingly, the mass action became violent and 40 protesters lost their lives, with hundreds injured. Although President William Ruto — who had incredibly proposed to tax bread (who does that?) — beat a retreat and made concessions, protesters have refused to vacate the streets. They are now demanding that he should resign. At this point, he would think his political opponents are behind the protest. Even if they are not the ones instigating it, Ruto wilfully played into their hands. You can’t blame politicians for playing politics.
The jittery reaction from the Nigerian authorities to the impending protest is understandable. Our current leaders were specialists in protests in their previous lives. We shouldn’t expect them to eagerly drink from their own medicine. They know the political implications of mass action. More so, millions of Nigerians need no incentive to protest. If the one kilo of beans they bought at N651 in June 2023 is now N2,290, they don’t have to be PDP members or Obidients to protest. If the medicine they bought at N8,000 is now N35,000, they can hardly resist shouts of “aluta”. And if they have lost their jobs as a result of company shutdowns, “solidarity forever” will be music to their ears.
The reaction of the federal government has been more about a possible political hijack of the protests. Again, can you blame politicians for hijacking genuine agitation? I have lived long enough to witness such things in Nigeria. The founders of APC, the current ruling party, did a great job of instigating protests against PDP administrations in the past — and there is no way we would forget what happened in January 2012 when President Goodluck Jonathan tried to end fuel subsidy but was met with stiff resistance via “Occupy Ojota”, fully supported by opposition parties bent on unseating him. I do not blame either APC or PDP for playing politics. Politicians must necessarily politick.
I would also say President Bola Tinubu has done enough to incur the wrath of those who may want to join or sponsor protests against him. I don’t think we need to go to Harvard to study that. Many Nigerians, including those who didn’t vote for him, were ready to give him a benefit of the doubt when he was inaugurated in May 2023 but he mismanaged the honeymoon in no time — what with the famed 100-vehicle stunt in Lagos ahead of Eid al-Adha and the Dubai jamboree under the guise of COP23. The size of his cabinet at a time of austerity was such a slap on the face for Nigerians. He lost many people in the process. Nobody needs to send them an invitation letter to join the protest.
Politically, many Nigerians whose candidates lost the presidential election are yet to get over what hit them. They have a natural motivation to support the protest. Some have never accepted him as president in any case, so things like this will excite them. To complicate things, Tinubu’s pattern of appointments has clearly and unashamedly favoured his own part of the country, particularly Lagos state, as well as his loyalists. Those elsewhere who supported him one way or the other are thus motivated to work with his enemies to pull him down. It is rational political behaviour. In reality, nobody goes into politics for God’s sake. Self-interest is a major factor. It is the nature of politics.
Where do I stand? Peaceful protests are good for the health of democracy. Social action and citizen engagement are critical to the growth of democracy. Freedom of expression is core to democracy. That is why some of us prefer democracy to military rule any day. The beauty of democracy is not just “one person, one vote” but the voice it gives us after we have exercised our suffrage. Democracy will never grow if all we do is vote and retreat to our cocoons. Democracy is suffering body blows globally, no doubt, but the Nigerian situation is all the more worrisome because of the huge gap between the people and the leaders. “Them bellyful but we hungry” — as Bob Marley once said.
But while I propose that civic engagement must improve significantly, I have my worries. The protest can be hijacked. #EndSARS became #EndBuhari and #EndNigeria as some people sneaked in their own narrow agenda and unprecedented arson was unleashed on Lagos. Two, the duration of a protest can become a problem. I have observed, for decades, that the longer a protest lasts, the higher the possibility of hijack by hoodlums, anarchists, security agencies, and, lately, fifth columnists providing refreshments. Conversely, fatigue can set in when a public protest is going on for too long. We saw this with the sit-at-home action against the annulment of the June 12 election in 1993.
That said, I must now add that while protests and civic engagement are not out of order, they are not going to solve our economic problems. We are in deep trouble. There is no soothing way of putting it. We are literally living on borrowed time. As we say in Pidgin, “water don pass garri”. This problem did not start today, or yesterday, and will not be resolved today or tomorrow. No matter the fantasies we have built in our heads, Nigeria is in a mess. We used to paper over the cracks because we were earning fat petrodollars but we have so overstretched our luck that there is no wriggle room left. We are hopelessly dependent on imports while exporting all but one product: oil. We are in soup.
The current crisis started around 2014 when oil revenue started going down owing to two factors: falling production and falling prices. Call that double whammy. Onshore oil production, where Nigeria owns 55-60 percent of the joint ventures, was taking a hit from militancy, pipeline vandalism, host community restiveness, and theft. The oil companies started weighing their options. To worsen matters, we proposed a petroleum industry law in 2008 that remained comatose in the National Assembly for over a decade. Investors, unsure of what fiscal laws would govern their investments, held back their money. All these factors combined to reduce our production capacity. That is a fact.
It should be a thing of shame that a country that used to produce 2.4 million barrels of oil per day in the 1970s, when our population was about 70 million, is now producing 1.3 million when the population is over 200 million. Do the math. It just shows how unserious we have been all our lives. We managed to hit 2.2 million again less than 20 years ago, but we have been going down since then — and to think this is the source of our livelihood! With production dropping and oil exports retreating, our forex inflows logically went south, but we kept ballooning expenditure with unsustainable subsidies, even pledging future oil output as payment guarantee for urgent imports.
We needed to have made the necessary adjustments long ago, perhaps as far back as 2015, but we kept postponing the evil day. With no significant inflow, we started rationing the forex and printing naira recklessly to sustain our local expenditure, much of which was wasted or stolen. We kept petrol price ridiculously low “to protect the poor” who are now ultimately paying the price, literally. Ways and means that was about N50 billion a decade ago accumulated to over N20 trillion in a few years, further destroying the value of the naira, pumping up inflation and impoverishing the people. The economic crisis was inevitable and there is no easy way out. We are only reaping what we sowed.
Unfortunately, Tinubu did not help matters with the haphazard way he has implanted, or implemented, the reforms. The manner he announced subsidy removal showed clearly that he was going to be an unsympathetic undertaker. Basic things that should have been in place before such a major policy pronouncement — such as the CNG conversion initiative — were missing. While we were at it, we watched helplessly as the naira crashed under a poorly conceived exchange rate policy. For an import-dependent (or “export-deficient” — to be politically correct) country, it was going to be nothing short of Armageddon. “Band A” electricity tariffs were also tripled at one blow.
Public finance was all but dead when Tinubu took over. But he has been too brutal with his surgery-without-anaesthesia. When prices of food and medicines were on the rise last year, Tinubu could have granted tariff waivers to achieve temporary relief. It took him a year to approve. Too little, too late. He could have done far better with his message of sacrifice if he had lived it. Instead, we are talking about buying presidential jets. Sacrifice is obviously for the lesser mortals. In the final analysis, people have a right and reason to protest. It won’t solve the economic problem, obviously, but it could put our insensitive leaders on notice about not always taking Nigerians for granted.
People are hungry. As Marley also put it, “A hungry mob is an angry mob.” That is my fear about public protests. Things can get out of hand. The ideal thing would be for the organisers and the security agencies to work hand in hand to make sure the protest goes in an orderly and civilised way. But things are more likely to be violent. Whichever way things go, however, the government needs to wake up. Times are hard, very hard, and they are not doing enough or acting on time to relieve the pains. Contrary to a widespread opinion, Nigerians are not a difficult people to lead. They just want leaders who feel their pains and do things that show that they care. Is that too much to ask?
