In 2015, President Buhari made headlines when he said his wife “belongs in the kitchen.” It was crude, patriarchal, and supposedly improper.

Yet today, some of the most-watched content creators in Nigeria are men performing in dresses, men posting cooking videos, men gossiping about celebrities. Not because they suddenly became “woke.” But because the Nigerian economy made them.

This essay argues that Nigeria’s prolonged economic hardship has become a powerful force in reshaping masculine behaviour.

As the cost of living continues to rise, wages stagnate, unemployment persists, economic opportunities diminish and when a wife’s income is no longer optional, the Nigerian man would reinvent himself. He would cook. He would dance. He would adopt the very traits a patriarchal society told him would unmask him as weak. The economy, not feminism, has feminized Nigerian men.

By feminization, this essay does not refer to changes in biological sex, gender identity, or sexual orientation. Rather, it refers to men’s increasing participation in roles, occupations, and activities that have historically been socially coded as feminine within the Nigerian cultural context. Whether those classifications are fair or desirable is a separate debate; what is important here is that such perceptions have historically shaped expectations of masculinity in Nigeria.

Before examining the economy as the principal variable driving this phenomenon, it is necessary to understand how gender roles are socially constructed and why certain behaviours come to be associated with either masculinity or femininity

Understanding Gender roles

Gender roles are expectations about the behaviours and responsibilities considered appropriate for men and women.

Traditionally, Social Psychologists divided gender roles into two trait categories: communal traits (interdependence, caregiving, nurturing, cooperation) associated with women, and agentic traits (independence, assertiveness, ambition, and leadership) associated with men.

Researchers Eagly and Steffen (1984) challenged this binary mindset when they carried out a research which showed that men and women can be communal and agentic and that “people are motivated to defend and legitimize the systems in which they operate”. E.g a woman in business would be seen as agentic and a man that is a major caregiver to his children would be seen as communal.

Existing Perspectives on the Feminization of Men

Researchers have attributed the feminization of men’s gender roles to several factors.

• Radicalization/ Wokeism - In gender studies, this refers to challenges to traditional gender roles and increased critique of traditional masculinity/femininity as social constructs rather than natural categories e.g Feminist movements on social media, corporate spaces discourse where women demand equal pay and leadership positions, and discussions centered around; opposing to submitting to husbands, or “why should I cook if he doesn’t cook?”

• Increase of sexual fluidity birthing subordinated men (gay men, transgender women), - Aside from the obvious gay and transger men, other examples include, men taking domestic roles like nannies or stay at home dad, you equally have the metro sexual (where men prioritize grooming, skincare, fashion, not that is bad but are emphatic in such a way that nothing else is going on in their lives)

• Masculinization of women’s gender norms - Basically women taking on traits/behaviors previously coded as male. E.g Women who are breadwinner, women in leadership roles basically agentic women.

This construct is/can be perceived as flawed, being that it legitimizes and upholds men’s privileged status in society and male dominance over women and subordinated masculinities…..but still, it needs to be discussed.

My Perspective: The Nigerian Economy as a Catalyst for Changing Masculine Behaviour

This essay approaches the discussion from a different perspective. I argue that, in Nigeria, economic decline has become one of the most immediate and powerful forces influencing how masculinity is performed.

And to understand how economic conditions reshape masculinity, it is necessary to move beyond abstract theory and examine everyday Nigerian life.

50/50 Saga: When the Provider Model Becomes Economically Unsustainable

In Nigeria, “50/50” has become shorthand for couples splitting household expenses and domestic labor equally. A generation ago, this would have been abominable, if it was the case, it would be a covert arrangement where the woman provides but tells the world that her husband is the one that provides, in order to protect her husband’s dignity and hers’ inadvertently.

Sociologists argue that manhood functions as an “achieved status”, something men must continuously earn and can easily lose, rather than an automatic biological condition. When a man can no longer be sole provider, and must contribute to housework and childcare, patriarchal culture reads this as emasculation. Yet he has no choice.

The Nigerian economic realities (stagnant wages and soaring inflation) have made the single-earner household a myth for most families, wives earnings aren’t supplementary anymore but essential. Today some men compulsorily require their wives to work, even purposely seek women that are well off or have the potential to put them on the right pedestal (e.g marrying women with foreign citizenship, or huge publicity) as a response to this.

The Economics of Cooking: From Kitchen Shame to Instagram Gold

Perhaps no activity illustrates this transformation more vividly than cooking.

Remember when President Buhari said his wife “belongs in the kitchen”? It was patriarchy distilled to one crude sentence.

Within traditional Nigerian discourse, cooking has long been associated with femininity. Yet today, some of Nigeria’s highest-paid content creators are men cooking on camera or critiquing food. Cooking has become a highly profitable industry.

The argument here is that many men are not embracing cooking itself as a domestic duty, but rather the economics surrounding it which makes it acceptable within traditional masculinity, because men are earning from it and can still play the provider role through it. This distinction is important.

Examples, Opeyemi the food critics (promoting culinary brands, critiquing food), cruisewithjoe (has ventured to become a restaurant owner), Alukus (spice curator), Chef Cupid (food videographer and chef as well), Chef Fregz (developing menus and recipes), the twin chefs (celebrity chef), Alvin (private chef), chike (food influencers) etc

When the economy makes “feminine” work the most lucrative option, men don’t hesitate. Patriarchal shame evaporates the moment money enters the equation.

The question is no longer whether cooking is masculine or feminine. It is whether economic necessity has changed how society sees it as a female gender role?

Comedy and the Commercialisation of Feminine Personas

Comedy content creation is one of Nigeria’s highest-paying social media niches and it’s dominated by men. Youtuber `Steven Ndukwu’s documentary revealed the extent of wealth they amass

For them to stay relevant in that space, is real work. Some adopt female characters which they have played consistently that followers don’t know what they actually look like, or followers begin to query their sexuality (e.g Aloma) or prefer them as female rather than male (Jayonair)

Importantly, many creators did not initially want to be comedians. Some trained as engineers, lawyers, medical professionals, or other specialists before entering content creation because conventional employment opportunities proved limited. For example, crazeclown trained as a doctor but still remains a comedian, also doctor Akporo, even though he makes healthcare content he still dabbles into comedy every now and then, either of them have taken conventional medical jobs.

This illustrates how economic incentives shape mindset, younger men watch these creators succeed and replicate the formula. What began as economic survival became learned behavior, almost aspirational. Markangel was a security officer at Kilmanjoro fast food before becoming one of the wealthiest skit makers and he occasionally plays as a woman…out of survival.

Now, some don’t even give their career a chance they go straight into alternate careers e.g brain jotter, Layi Wasabi, even from school they were doing skits, after school they just didn’t even bother with pursuing traditional jobs because really what job can fly them out or pay them as much as they receive from comedy.

The economy doesn’t just force feminization; it incentivizes it for the next generation.

Men in Hookup Culture

Nigeria criminalizes homosexuality with a 14 years prison sentence.

Displaying feminine traits marks a man as weak. Yet there’s now a visible market for men engaging in transactional sex with both women and men.

When a country centralizes resources in the hands of a few, the others become commodities. Women have long traded sex for money; now men do too. Handsome, well-built men offer their bodies to wealthier individuals (male and female) in exchange for survival.

The wealthy both female and male can demand sexual deviances: anal pounding, orgies, bdsm, submission, pedophilia. Desperate men/boys comply.

What’s crucial is that this isn’t a coming-out story. These men aren’t discovering their sexual identity. Most of these men would never identify as gay, but engage in same-sex transactional sex because the money is there and the alternative is starvation. The economy, not desire, determines their sexual behavior.

The danger isn’t the sexual behavior itself. It’s that economic hardship is creating a generation of young men whose survival depends on commodifying their bodies and in doing so, potentially conditioning them into sexual identities born of necessity, not choice. In a functioning economy, this wouldn’t be survival. It would be a choice.

Men in Gossip Content

An insult to traditional masculinity: “You gossip like a woman.” Yet today, male gossip creators like ‘Tosin Silverdam’ command massive followings dissecting celebrity drama that would have been emasculating a decade ago.

The reason is simple: it pays. In an economy where traditional masculine work offers nothing, men enter any niche that converts to income. gossip, fashion, beauty, cooking…coded as feminine, yes. But in the attention economy, they’re viable.

This reveals something fundamental about masculinity itself: it’s not fixed to specific behaviors. It’s fixed to economic viability.A man gossiping while broke is emasculated. A man gossiping while building a brand is an entrepreneur. The behavior is identical; the economic outcome changes everything.

I could go on and on even in the beauty industry, but really the list is inexhaustive.

Conclusion: The cost of survival

Strip a man of his ability to provide by centralized resources, collapsed wages, few jobs, and he has no choice but to adapt. He would cook, dance, gossip, and do ‘runs’…whatever.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with men cooking or nurturing. In a healthy economy, this would be called balance, but not in Nigeria. The feminization we’re witnessing isn’t liberation. It’s survival.

The loss isn’t that men are becoming feminine. It’s what Nigeria loses in the process. When the most lucrative path available to a young man is becoming a content creator, he doesn’t become an engineer. So who would build the infrastructure the country desperately needs? Nigeria has abundant human capital, but it’s being redirected toward Instagram, TikTok, and transactional survival rather than nation-building.

The choice isn’t between traditional masculinity and feminization. It’s between a functioning economy and chaos. Everything else, the gossip, the cooking, the content creation, the sexual fluidity, is just what survival looks like when there’s nothing else to do.

References

¹ Eagly, A. H., & Steffen, V. J. (1984). Gender stereotypes stem from the distribution of women and men into social roles. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 46(4), 735–754.

In classical Marxist terms, the bourgeoisie are those whose material interests are aligned with capital, property, and the preservation of existing economic relations.

The term black bourgeoisie was first used to describe upper- and middle-class African Americans, typically comprising professionals with high incomes and net worth, such as doctors, lawyers, executives, entrepreneurs, etc.

This class occupies a particularly complex and contradictory position; racially oppressed yet often economically privileged relative to the Black masses.

A group described by E.Franklin Frazier, as focused on conspicuous consumption and a make-believe status, they often navigate a duality between mainstream capitalist culture and black community accountability.

However, over the years, this class of people, their form, function, and social role have evolved historically, from slavery to post-slavery, and into the present (modern-day). Yet despite these transformations, a recurring pattern remains: this class has frequently acted as a buffer against radical change.

Slavery and the Black Bourgeoisie

During slavery, they had house and field slaves.

While both were enslaved and dehumanized, house slaves occupied a comparatively privileged position.

The house slaves “aka Uncle Tom” ate the same food as their master, wore old clothes of their master, lived inside the same house with their masters, probably in the basement or the attic and had most of their chores inside the house…This proximity to white power produced loyalty.

The house slaves were so loyal that if their master was sick, they would say “master are we sick”. If their master’s house were to be burning, they would risk their lives to save their master’s house or property. Their master’s pain was their pain, and they would prefer for themselves to be sick than their master.

The house slaves were the black bourgeoisie of that time.

The house slaves didn’t see any need to be free, because, to them, they were comfortable; what more could they ask for? This wasn’t the case for the field slaves who worked in brutal conditions on the plantations for long hours.

These field slaves fought for liberation, for change, for equality, but were often undermined by house slaves, who exposed escape plans and revolts to protect their own relative comfort.

This set of house slaves, though few in numbers, played a dominant role in sabotaging collective freedom, driven by the logic that resistance threatened the limited privileges they enjoyed. Since they were catered for, fed good food, not battered or beaten, they were good. Anything on the contrary would cost them “ALOT”

That “ALOT” became a powerful tool of control.

Post-Slavery and the Rise of the Black Middle Class.

Following the independence and emancipation of slaves, a new Black bourgeoisie emerged, one no longer defined by proximity to the master’s house, but by education, property ownership, and professional status.

Slaves started to pursue education aggressively. Historical black colleges like Fisk and Howard University were established to educate black professionals. African Americans opened businesses, acquired land, entered the clergy, medicine, law, and teaching, and built institutions that served growing Black urban communities.

This progress, however, did not go unnoticed.

White power structures, feeling threatened, responded with a familiar strategy: selective inclusion.

So, just like the house slaves in the slavery era, certain black elites were granted licenses, titles, low-level political appointments, and access to white institutions. Their children were allowed into elite schools. Symbolic recognition was exchanged for loyalty.

Once again, it worked.

These black bourgeoisie started to seek validation from whiteness. Identity fractures deepened. Respectability politics flourished. Distance from the Black poor became a marker of success. Blackness itself was increasingly associated with poverty, criminality, ugliness, and backwardness. They felt the need to be associated to whiteness to feel seen or accomplished…to truly have their identity.

This era saw the rise of hair straightening products styled to resemble that of caucasian women or men. The normalization of interracial marriage not as personal choice alone, but often as an aspiration toward social legitimacy.

Again, the post-slavery period was saddled with revolutions, protests for equality. The Black bourgeoisie though they were small in number participated in freedom movements quietly, funding organizations in secret, avoiding public association, masking their support because they believed they had “a lot to lose.”

Alot to lose = Privileges given by white people.

Malcolm X described this phenomenon bluntly:

When this Bourgeoisie negro walks through the door, he is not doing something he has initiated himself, but he is involved in something in which the white man is the absolute author and has sent him to the Negro community for info to take back to the white man.”

— Malcolm X (1965)

The Black Bourgeoisie in the 21st Century

In the modern era, the Black bourgeoisie has expanded dramatically due to globalization, technology, professionalization, and access to global markets. Today, it includes not only elites but also large segments of the Black middle class; corporate employees, technocrats, academics, creatives, civil servants etc

Numerically and economically, this group now represents the most influential Black demographic.

Yet this influence is rarely exercised in moments of crisis.

The Black bourgeoisie in the current era manifests as every, corrupt political leader, silent observer , basically people like “you and me’ who remain quiet in the face of injustice, police brutality, state violence, corporate exploitation, and corruption because speaking up might threaten employment, reputation, access, or safety.

We ask ourselves:

• What if my employer sees this post?

• What if my LinkedIn activity costs me my job?

• What if my silence protects my future?

Again, the refrain returns: we have a lot to lose.

To be fair, this fear is not imagined. Many who have spoken out have lost jobs, been harassed, imprisoned, kidnapped, or killed. The cost of resistance is real. But still it doesn’t negate the fact that when a class of people who have the strongest influence as a result of their number and economic strength when put together keep mute, the damage and ripple effect is deep and extremely disruptive.

The poor may be numerous but lack economic leverage. The ultra-wealthy often benefit from oppression or actively produce it. What remains is the Black bourgeoisie: numerically large, economically positioned, socially connected but mute.

“The black bourgeoisie will more often than not, BETRAY you because they think they have something to lose. If you want support in any action, try to find a black thug, he would know he has nothing to lose. If you’re in danger, go and get him; he will help you.

— Maya Angelou (1987)

Activists and the Limits of Individual Courage

In the absence of the bourgeois courage, we have resorted to activist who are considered controversy magnet and they don’t care if their reputation is dragged to the mud provided truth prevails.

The dynamic mirrors the Igbo proverb “Onye ji nsi tee onwe ya ude” — “He who rubs excrement/poop on himself as cream.”

Such a person becomes untouchable. Anyone who attacks him risks being smeared with poop as well. His protection lies; in his poop smeared self, in his lack of concern for respectability. He can confront kings and tyrants because he has already abandoned the desire for social approval.

But a crucial question remains, how many activists do we need to effect a deep impact?

Certainly not enough to match the collective power of a socially organized Black bourgeoisie.

Conclusion

The tragedy of the Black bourgeoisie is not merely its existence, but its underutilized power. By prioritizing personal security over collective liberation.

Until this demography confronts its fear of loss and recognizes its historical responsibility, disunity and injustice will continue to fester.

The revolution it withholds cannot be replaced by isolated heroism.

In that silence lies the true menace of the Black bourgeoisie in modern-day society.

Yes, I don’t like money, I really do dislike it.

I’m not lazy, but it’s hard to understand why we have to pay money for things that God gave to us for free, that’s my number one grouse with money.

Some might not believe in the creation story, but we can all agree that land, water, trees…they were all there and not a single dime was paid to inhabit earth by the first dwellers. They migrated from town to town, making homes where they found suitable… Fast forward, to move from one country to another is almost like a herculean task, especially for the highly marginalised Africans.

People give testimonies for being able to finally travel to another country or for getting the passport of another country. I wonder how we got to this level, from everything being free and people being able to move freely, to this.

One human being would own an estate or 10,000 acres of land, whilst there are millions of people homeless. These human beings that own these multiple properties can only sleep in one room at a time…..so, where is this madness from?

The madness to own the world and chase everyone away from it. To some people, it’s not about being filthy rich but about being a god. You’ve been possessed by the demon of greed, honestly.

I’m asked to pay money to buy land to build a house, who am I paying the money to…God? Aliens?. I’m asked to buy water or pay water bills…to who exactly? To the person who created water?

I’m paying money to an individual who didn’t create land or water to enjoy something that was given to the world for free. Who started charging people money for water, land or anything given to the world for free?

I understand that an infrastructural system has been created to make enjoying these natural resources more convenient, and that needs to be maintained. What about our taxes?

People might disagree, but the taxes being paid is enough to sustain an economy if people weren’t just greedy.

My other grouse is the fact that people ascribe a notion to you based on how much paper of a money you have. You as a human being with talents, personality, character, virtues…all that doesn’t matter anymore but rather you as a human being with money is what really counts.

I often find myself in a pensive state. I observe the level of cowering accentuated to someone based on the money they have, and the other person, the one without money, the poor man, so he is called, is treated with so much disdain.

In fact, there is so much disdain, disgust and anger for a poor person even without people getting to know what vices make him/her dislikeable, the person is already disliked because they don’t have the “paper of a money”…

You can’t get justice, you can’t have a roof over your head, you can’t eat, you can’t drink water and more, all because you don’t have money….. you might as well be existing than living because you don’t have money.

Family members love you more or less and treat you better or poorer, all bordering on the resources you have and are willing to spew. You have to buy love…I’m telling you, you have to.

The funny thing is that you wouldn’t know you’re actually buying love until the tables turn…then you’d see it was never that deep. Not that you should focus on that, but it is what it is.

Let’s not even start with churches and money…

What prompted this? I wanted to enrol my sister for a networking session, and they only wanted people who attended Ivy League schools like Oxford, LSE, Havard, Standford etc to be in attendance.

The blue blood, their blood keeps on getting bluerer (if there is a word like that), and for the dirty bloods, their blood keeps on getting dirtier.

A strong demarcation has been drawn with “money” and there is this fear that if by chance a dirtyblood’s skin touches that of a blueblood, they would turn into what they dread “dirty blood”, so there is a constant fight to stay and keep away from a dirtyblood. Everything is exclusive, when a dirtyblood comes around, there is shame, embarrassment, resentment…..what else?? Yes, poverty polluting the air.

Probably I feel spited for not having so much money at the moment..lol, that I have so much disdain and hatred for something that has eluded me for a while. I hope that isn’t how I truly feel….I really don’t know.

I want my genuine feeling to be disdain towards money whether I have it or not. I will work hard, but I pray this awareness never leaves me.

When you begin to appreciate certain features, narratives, or standards as default, even when they exclude you, your race, your features, your culture, yet you still uphold them as the ideal, then you are probably biased to self.

Biased to self is a form of internalized bias shaped by social conditioning.

INTERNALIZED BIAS SHAPED BY CULTURAL/SOCIAL CONDITIONING

The conditioning is subtle, deeply ingrained in everyday life, so much so that, surreptitiously, it excludes you without your awareness.

And you consider it normal… normal to be excluded, simply because you don’t fit into the hegemonic definition of what is “standard.”

Some call it “The Matrix.”
Those in academia call it social conditioning.

Social conditioning is a broad concept, it describes how society trains people to adopt certain beliefs and preferences, like what is considered attractive, successful, or desirable, often without conscious awareness.

This conditioning creates internal bias in the very people it excludes or diminishes.

A common example: when people absorb negative messages about their own group; skin tone, culture, language, and begin to believe them.

For instance, an African man may find himself more attracted to a woman with Eurocentric features, while perceiving a woman with Afrocentric features as less attractive; “hard,” “strong,” even “masculine.” He may not fully understand why he feels this way, especially when his values and culture align more with the African woman.

But he has been conditioned, subtly, repeatedly, that white is beautiful and Black is not.

And really… who doesn’t want to choose what they’ve been taught is beautiful?

This ideology is more common than we think.

It can be as granular as a child rejecting a Black doll because it is “ugly,” and preferring a white Barbie because it is “fine.”

It starts subtly. You don’t even know when it begins.

One moment, you’re just living…
The next thing, you’re a fully grown person upholding norms that exclude you and wondering how you got there.

It started when you:

• chose the white doll over the Black doll

• went to the cinema for only Hollywood blockbusters, ignoring your local films

• read foreign authors but not your indigenous writers

• wore hair that mimics a Caucasian texture because yours didn’t feel “standard”

• prayed for distant turbulent countries, yet ignored the conflicts in your own community

• spent heavily on foreign brands, but undervalued local artisans using original bespoke materials

Hegemony and Identity

The dominant groups in society shape norms and values so that their perspective becomes seen as the “default” or “ideal… hegemony, it is called.

But if you are not part of that dominant group, where does that leave you?
Does it mean that because you are Black or Brown, you are forever “less than”?
Even when you are more experienced, more grounded, more whole?

You can already see the flaw.

This norm and value shaped by the dominant group that isn’t you, affects general well being…it affects

Mood,

satisfaction,

contentment,

Drive,

general quality of life.

A farmer in Uganda owns 50 healthy cows and goats. His crops are thriving. He returns home to a well-prepared meal, shared with his wife and children. He pauses, looks around, and considers himself rich.

But someone conditioned by Western ideals might look at him and shake their head.

Because, according to global standards, he is nowhere near someone like Elon Musk.

So he is reduced to “just” an African villager.

But who defined wealth?
And why must it always look the same?

Perspective

Perspective as it should, is relative.

My version of wealth can differ from yours and both can still be valid.

My version of beauty can differ from yours and both can still exist.

My music can differ from yours and both can still be celebrated globally and not just one being marketed in mainstream media because it is considered better or rather ideal.

Society was never meant to be rigid. It should be malleable, shaped, stretched, and expanded to hold the full range of human experiences.

When we are exposed to the same standards over and over, through media, education, advertising, we begin to center one version of reality. And in doing so, we quietly push everything else to the margins.

Entire cultures. Entire identities.
Sometimes… ourselves.

You begin to dislike the very things that look like you.

But self-hate is rarely loud. It doesn’t always look like self-harm or wanting to disappear.

It shows up in quieter ways:

when you feel the need to lighten your skin
when your natural features begin to feel “less than”
when you reach for versions of beauty that are furthest from you

Not as an expression, but as a correction.

This is why we must learn and unlearn. Because children absorb these things early. They see before they understand.
And without language for it, they internalize it:

“Daisy (the white girl) should be the princess… she’s the pretty one.” And you, nko?

You learn, without being told, where you belong.

This is how conditioning works….Not loudly, not forcefully, but consistently, until certain looks, cultures, and lives are seen as “better.” And everything else becomes something to outgrow.

Representation

What’s the way forward? Representation.

Representation interrupts the cycle. It expands what people see as “normal”. When films, ads, and social media include diverse skin tones, body types, accents, and cultures, the idea of “normal” becomes broader. People are less likely to see differences as “inferior”

Without representation, it’s easier to internalize the message, “People like me are not valued.”

Representation doesn’t just add diversity, it questions who set the standard in the first place.

It shifts the narrative from “this is ideal” to “there are many valid ideals”

Young people are especially shaped by what they see. If they grow up seeing diverse role models, different forms of success and beauty, they’re less likely to adopt narrow or harmful standards in the first place.

In Summary

Problem: Cultural/Social conditioning

Effect: Internalized bias

Solution: Representation

When it comes to the Nigerian Cement industry, the play of business and politics has never been soo visible as the silent war between Cletus Ibeto and Aliko Dangote.

On one side stood Ibeto, an industrialist from the East, who rose from spare parts trading to shaking up the competition in the cement industry with speed, strategy and grit. The other side, Dangote, the billionaire magnate with unmatched access to power, policy and protection.

This wasn’t the usual business competition. It was a clash of principles: merit vs monopoly, market vs manipulation.

This article revisits the lesser-known story of how Ibeto’s operations faced significant regulatory and political hurdles, while Dangote’s rise coincided with policies that favoured large-scale industrial investment.

It asks the hard questions: Would Dangote have risen so far without presidential favour? If placed on the same pedestal as other businessmen, would he be the richest man in Africa? Could Ibeto have transformed the industry if given a fair shot? And what does this saga reveal about the true cost of doing business in Nigeria?

The Rise of Ibeto and His Cement Dream

In the early 2000s, Cletus Ibeto disrupted Nigeria’s cement sector with a bold business model: import cement in bulk, bag it locally, and sell it at prices the established players couldn’t match. It was smart, swift, and entirely legal, ‘a masterclass in traditional disruption and healthy competition’.

His Port Harcourt terminal could process over 5,000 metric tons daily, and he had a growing share of the market. Cement prices began to fall, a win for consumers and a move to shake up an oligopoly benched by dormant state-owned factories.

“I was reducing cement prices in a way they couldn’t match. That was my crime.” — Cletus Ibeto, reported in a 2012 legal brief

But what should’ve been a market triumph turned into political trouble.

Obasanjo’s Shutdown: A Necessary Policy or Not?

In 2005, President Olusegun Obasanjo’s administration revoked Ibeto’s 800,000‑ton import license without due notice. His terminals were sealed. Imported consignments were stranded at sea. No tribunal. No safety net. Just a cold, hard stop.

The official reason? “Ibeto failed to invest in local manufacturing.”

The government cited Ibeto’s failure to invest in local manufacturing as justification for the shutdown of its bagging terminal and stranded vessels, despite having plans to build a full-scale plant.

However, industry watchers saw something else: a power move to clear the field for Dangote Cement, whose factories were just starting to come online.

“Eight vessels carrying cement for Ibeto were left floating while one man’s trucks flooded the streets.” — Anonymous port official, 2006

Dangote: A Legacy of Favouritism?

At the core of this drama was Dangote Cement. Sources and later petitions alleged that Dangote had close political ties dating back to Obasanjo’s 1999 campaign funding.

Critics argue these ties translated into exclusive government favours;

● grants for import licenses

● lower tariffs

● access to low-interest government-backed financing

● accelerated access to local production quotas

● strategic waivers that competitors like Ibeto were denied,

Tilting the playing field heavily in Dangote’s favour.

Industry enthusiasts argued Dangote Cement’s growth wasn’t organic; it was a state-aided monopoly.

While Ibeto fought in court, Dangote expanded across Nigeria and beyond.

This was the case, but not for long. When President Umaru Yar’Adua assumed office in 2007, Ibeto successfully appealed to have its factory reopened and secured a fresh allocation: 1.5 million metric tons per year at a 5% duty and zero VAT, an unprecedented concession not extended to others. For a brief moment, the playing field levelled.

Dangote’s cement prices dipped. Competition resumed. Nigeria watched two titans clash. Consumers cheered for the price war. But power never sleeps.

Dangote responded by petitioning the government and filing lawsuits challenging the unfair advantage and the low tariff regime, overlooking the fact that he, too, once benefited from similar forms of advantage.

The ensuing tug-of-war turned full-scale.

“Dangote accused Ibeto of tax evasion, regulatory flouting, and leveraging the court system for monopolistic gains, while Ibeto retorted that Dangote was orchestrating political influence to crush legitimate competition”

And so, Dangote’s allies lobbied hard; though Ibeto continued to trade, the atmosphere was soured. Licenses were tightened. Ports got slower. Permits were delayed. Behind the scenes, the screws turned again.

By 2012, the tide was clear: Ibeto was being pushed out. Again. The truth is, Ibeto never recovered its earlier position.

The Empire and the Epitaph

Years have passed, and Dangote Cement has become synonymous with Nigerian cement, currently controlling up to 60% of the market.

Cletus Ibeto, now older, quieter, turned to other ventures. His cement dream? Still alive but wrapped in court documents, old memories, and unrealised potential.

In February 2024, nearly two decades after that fateful shutdown, IPOB publicly pleaded with President Tinubu to lift the ban on Ibeto Cement, citing rising costs, monopoly pricing, and a lost opportunity for industrial balance.

“If Ibeto was allowed to thrive, cement wouldn’t be ₦8,000 today.” — Trader, Onitsha Building Market, February 2024.

What If They Had Let Him Compete?

The question still echoes: Would Dangote Cement be as dominant if the rules had been fair?

Aliko Dangote is widely celebrated as one of Africa’s most successful businessmen, a symbol of resilience, strategic thinking, and industrial ambition. Over the years, he has built a formidable empire that spans across multiple sectors, with cement being a cornerstone of his legacy.

There’s no doubt he has worked hard. But for those observing closely, an important question lingers: To what extent did access to power and policy shape his rise? Was the ladder beneath him held steady by hands others never had access to?

Certainly, Dangote’s business acumen is evident. Yet, it’s also true that he benefited from forms of support, favourable regulations, import waivers, and government-backed incentives that weren’t as readily available to other entrepreneurs of equal drive and vision.

One might wonder: If business leaders like Cosmas Maduka or Cletus Ibeto were granted similar opportunities, would the landscape of African industry look different today?

And then there’s the core contradiction: Can we call it resilience or innovation if, when faced with competition, however modest, Dangote didn’t adapt or outthink his rival, but allegedly called in political favours to neutralise them?

That doesn’t look like competitive entrepreneurship. It looks like government-enabled dominance, closer to lobbying for state contracts than fighting in the trenches of market capitalism.

This isn’t to discredit Dangote’s achievements, but to examine the environment in which they unfolded. After all, a level playing field is essential for genuine innovation and competition. When faced with competitive pressure, true entrepreneurship thrives not through suppression but through reinvention and evolution.

So, what exactly is Dangote? A business mogul? Or a carefully curated billionaire, sculpted by policy rather than sharpened by rivalry? Is the more honest business title “wealthy, influential man” rather than “businessman”. A man who rarely competes in the open field where real innovation, strategy, and market pressure separate the good from the great

Because in true business, iron sharpens iron. It is ‘do me, I do you’ but here ‘there’s only do him… and deal with the consequences’.

Perhaps what this raises is not a dismissal of Dangote’s status, but a broader question about how we define business success in Nigeria. Is it purely profit and scale? Or does it also include the ability to compete fairly, adapt under pressure, and rise without relying on preferential access?

Dangote’s legacy is significant. But so too is the conversation about what kind of ecosystem we’re building and whether we are truly allowing the best ideas and players to rise, regardless of their proximity to power.

Who Else Did We Silence?

The fall of Ibeto Cement isn’t just a business case. It’s a parable, a warning. It tells of how political favouritism can destroy innovation, how access to power can rewrite the rules of competition, and how a country’s progress can be shackled when policy serves the few, not the many.

Ibeto Cement’s story isn’t an isolated tragedy; it’s a mirror. It reflects a system where success is often less about strategy and more about state alignment.

The cost of killing competition is measured not just in inflated prices or lost innovation, but in the silencing of people who could have helped build a better country.

In the war of cement, Dangote won.

But did Nigeria?

The Illusion of Consumerism

Consumerism is the economic belief that high consumption of goods and services is beneficial to individuals and economies.

The more you buy, the better your life supposedly becomes because you have everything and the economy thrives. People get paid, entrepreneurs build businesses, all because you’re consuming.

But before we go any further, let’s be clear about something: the average Nigerian’s need isn’t a ₦100,000 designer bag or a ₦105,000 advent calendar plastered all over social media. It’s food. Water. Electricity. Safety. Yet we’re being sold the same consumerist fantasy as people in countries where the minimum wage is 50 times higher than ours. That’s not aspiration, that’s exploitation. And this article will show you exactly how deep the trap goes.

The idea that the more you consume, the better your well-being becomes is extremely flawed and an intentional conditioning that powers a narcissistic capitalist economy.

The only thing guaranteed is that corporate coffers are filled. These same corporations have mastered the art of associating products with the most intimate aspect of human psychology: prestige, fulfilment, access, and freedom. That’s what their products promise to deliver.

So why do people over-consume? To show off? Post online? FOMO (Fear of Missing Out)? To curate how others see them? Whichever reason you pick, you’re probably right. But one factor remains constant: a need is constantly created for something that never existed and has suddenly been invented.

KNIFE

Growing up, we just had one sharp kitchen knife. At most, we’d add a butcher knife for really tough meat. But now? You have a vegetable knife, serrated knife, cook’s knife, bread knife, filleting knife, carving knife, and santoku knife when you’re not even running a restaurant. Restaurants didn’t even have this much back in the day, and now it’s almost like you can’t do without these knives.

I’m literally looking for a bread knife to cut bread. Using any other knife for bread doesn’t even feel right anymore.

I pause and ask myself: when I was younger and used a regular kitchen knife to slice bread, how did I manage just fine? Now, it feels almost impossible. We’ve been manipulated so badly that excesses have become necessities.

There’s an apple cutter, enamel pot, stainless pot, non-stick pot, egg slicer, microwave cover when you can just use a plate to cover food in the microwave. Sometimes when you talk about how unnecessary these things are, people look at you like you’re less-privileged. How can you say these things aren’t needed?

CONSUMER MIND vs. NON-CONSUMER MIND

You go to school …but for what?

A consumer mind says: “When I finish, I can get a job and buy the things I want in life.”

A non-consumer mind says: “I want to broaden my horizon, learn deeply, and unravel my consciousness.”

One mindset treats education as a means to consume. The other treats it as a means to create.

Great writers, inventors, artists, they immerse themselves in their craft, forfeiting the self in order to emerge as masters. They might eventually join the queue of consumerism, but it takes a while. And when it finally happens, it’s guided by awareness, not desperation.

But in Nigeria, we’re sold consumerism before mastery.

Consumerism creates competition in society for prestige, which leads to individualism and the relentless optimization of self. We become unable to act together, unable to stand in solidarity. You begin to see the world only through the lens of capitalism.

WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE IN THE NIGERIAN TERRAIN

1. Celebrity Brands: Little Value, Maximum Marketing

Every celebrity, once they have a significant following, starts a brand. They begin selling something even if they have little knowledge of it. They produce whatever average product they can fathom and market it on social media as a luxury piece.

Priscilla Ojo, based on her recent increased following, started a bag brand. Some have sold out, and notably, none of the bags on her website sells for less than ₦100,000 (see here). You have to wonder: are friends, associates, fans, and acquaintances buying these bags because they resonate with them personally? Or do expensive items simply signal status, wealth, or taste?

Diana Eneje created an advent calendar that sold for ₦105,000. The reviews weren’t exactly palatable (see here). Again, what on earth is an advent calendar, not that I don’t know what it is, how is it a thing in Nigeria, is it a necessary item that needs to be marketed in Nigeria. We just can’t copy everything the west markets or produces even when it’s completely unimportant in the face of things.

Oyindamola (Thayour B) launched a perfume brand. What can I say?

Toke Makinwa has done numerous launches for her brand: perfumes, bags, and more. (See here)

Ubi Franklin, in July 2017, launched Instant Pickup, an online service offering instant home pickup and delivery of laundry. He also launched Instant Apartment, an online platform for luxury apartment rentals, the same year. In October 2018, he launched Instant Ryde, an online taxi service in Calabar and Uyo. There are Instagram pages for these businesses with last posts dating back to 2019. Most importantly, the apps created for them have been withdrawn from the app store. All three businesses with so much potential and marketed heavily to the public are now defunct. They were launched with no clear plan for sustenance and little business acumen.

Yemolee has a his clothing brand (YL), zlatan has a clothing brand as well (ZTW)

The list goes on. But one thing appears common across the board: no clear in-depth market feasibility study, no learned or acquired business acumen, no passion or depth in terms of business clarity. They try so many things with no clear understanding of quality or what classifies as luxury. Their social capital is what they bank on for the sustenance of the business, not strategy, not passion, not business acuity. Just the number of followers they have.

The Human Cost: Half-Baked Talents Everywhere

This eagerness to capitalize on social capital shows little to no care for the fanbase. It’s like you were lured to follow someone, only for them to immediately start selling to you. You don’t even know what they stand for yet or what their niche is, but they’re already hawking products.

But here’s what suffers most: the talent itself.

These creators and artists become saddled with the stress of running a business instead of exploring the depth of their art and how far it can go. Once you start that marathon journey of running a business, there’s a limit to how far you can dig into your craft.

Most artistic people aren’t naturally business-savvy. They get accountants, managers, and strategists to handle the business side while they dig deep into their talent. But first, you need to have mastered something before you can delegate its management.

That’s the difference between real artisans and celebrity cash grabs.

People like Tubo and Don Jazzy; these are individuals with stories behind their brands. There’s craftsmanship, uniquely sourced materials, creative styles, and a clear concept. You understand that this is what they’re meant to do. Every piece of work carries significant and unique weight. Nothing is mass-produced. They can’t even manufacture to the level of consumerism because the work involved is specific, intentional, and can’t just be demanded in bulk.

But for most celebrity brands? It’s just consumerism on the manufacturing side, flooding the market with average products dressed up as premium because they know Nigerians are conditioned to chase prestige over substance.

2. Latest iPhone Craze — Planned Obsolescence and FOMO (Fear of Missing Out)

It’s apparent that at the peak of consumerism, the iPhone sits comfortably among the top, because why else release a new model when only a tiny feature has been added and call it an upgrade that makes it different from the others? Sometimes, if you’re not careful, the ploy of consumerism borders on outright fraud.

And in African terrains such as Nigeria, the hustle to get the newest one is no joke. Every TikToker, every content creator latches onto it like it’s essential for their craft. “I need it for clearer pics.” “I need it for my videos.” But the upgrade wasn’t even done on the camera.

I’ll tell you why it’s “needed”: because it signals arrival, prestige, and fulfillment.

People go to extreme lengths to acquire the latest model, and then the mirror shots come swinging in, those four camera circles designed to “pepper” everyone and announce, “I have an iPhone 17 Pro Max.” You’d think this behavior is just common among youngsters, but you’ll see it with grown, mature men and women doing unboxing videos of the latest phone. It’s painful to see, talk more of watching.

3. Weddings

If you don’t have the following, are you even a bride? A stylist, wardrobe manager, designer, a look curator, MUA (makeup artist), nail tech, hair stylist, another designer for the 2nd, 3rd, 4th dress and another wardrobe manager, a personal shopper, and an accessory curator…

It’s so absurd that nowadays, if you don’t have them or at least a substantial number of them you feel a certain way. You feel like you’re missing out on your fairy tale.

But here’s what nobody wants to admit: the bigger the wedding spectacle, the more likely the divorce.

American divorce lawyer James Sexton, who has handled thousands of divorce cases, observed this pattern clearly. He noted that if you break down the role of a traditional bride in a modern wedding, it’s an unbelievable narcissistic pursuit. There’s an engagement with a huge ring that must be displayed on social media. Then an engagement party. Then a bachelorette party. Then a rehearsal dinner. Then the wedding itself, a production that can rival a small concert. Then a honeymoon that must be documented for the gram. (click here)

At every stage, the focus is on performance, prestige, and spectacle, not the marriage itself. The relationship becomes secondary to the event. And when the applause dies down, when the pictures have been posted and the likes have been counted, couples are left with debt, exhaustion, and the hollow realization that they spent more energy planning a day than building a life.

Israel DMW (Davido’s logistics manager) said this about his young divorced wife just after 8 months of marriage: “You just allow me waste money do lavish wedding when you no say you never ready to marry.” The pain in his words wasn’t about the loss of the relationship or the union, it was the money lost and the dread of repeating the cycle again with another person. (Interview with Daddy Freeze, live stream — here)

It is truly a burden we have placed on ourselves. You might not want to indulge in this lavishness, but people will pressure you on your behalf: “Is there no money? Why don’t you want a big wedding?” And on and on, until you bend and become a source of entertainment or free food for people who will forget your wedding in two weeks, all because of consumerism.

4. Entertainment and Showbiz

A credential for being in showbiz is having your own youtube channel. Every actor and actress has a channel where they produce their own movies. Every month, someone is releasing a song or a movie.

No intentionality. No curation of a strong storyline. Once the idea hits, they pour it out… raw, rough, and undefined. Hundreds of movies flood YouTube every year, with no single outstanding performance or storyline. Just mass production until someone like Kemi Adetiba or Kunle Afolayan decides to grace us with actual cinema.

Who is even doing the watching? The amount of content produced far exceeds the number of consumers who can watch it.

Most times, it’s statements like this “anything Bimbo or Funke or Iyabo is in, I will watch”….not because the story resonates with you, not because it spikes your intelligence or is genuinely interesting, but simply because it’s your favorite who produced it.

5. Digital products by Content Creators

Once someone manages to make a viral post, the next thing they do is design a digital product with Canva and start selling courses on “how to make viral posts” or “how to do voiceovers.”

How about you stay in your craft, learn it more deeply, and come out with an actually valuable digital product instead of an empty one? Every content creator has their own digital product, all selling in the same oversaturated market to the same exhausted consumers.

To the Central Construct: Why Consumerism is More Dangerous in the African Clime Compared to Europe or China

1. The Purchasing Power Parity Trap: PPP Trap

First, Nigeria’s purchasing power is abysmal compared to Europe or China. In the UK, £1 can buy you something. £2 can get you a meal. In Nigeria? ₦1 gets you nothing. Zilch. Shi shi.

Here’s what this means in practice: in the UK, saving £1 today gets you closer to a £3 purchase tomorrow. The incremental value of money exists. But in Nigeria, where nothing costs ₦1, ₦5, or even ₦20, there’s no such thing as “saving small.” Every consumer purchase demands a huge chunk of an already-strained income. Yet we’re being sold the same consumerist lifestyle as people earning 50× more.

So when someone produces everyday items with no quality, no craftsmanship, no clarity, just a plain drive to show they have a business based on their social capital, they’re driving people toward eternal poverty and lack. Please don’t say, “Don’t they have brains? Why spend money they don’t have?” People are shaped by their environment.

2. The Math That Doesn’t Add Up

Let’s talk numbers.

While Nigeria’s official minimum wage is ₦70,000, the reality on the ground is far grimmer. Most Nigerians, especially in the informal sector, their minimum wage could be between ₦30,000 and ₦50,000 per month. Some earn even less.

Now compare that to the UK, where minimum wage is approximately £13 per hour. For a standard 37-hour work week, that’s a monthly income of £1,700–£1,800. That’s over ₦3 million naira at current exchange rates.

But forget the exchange rate for a moment. Let’s talk about purchasing power within each country.

In Nigeria, a single bag of rice (local rice) costs between ₦60,000 and ₦80,000. Imported rice? ₦70,000 to ₦90,000. That means one bag of rice can consume an entire month’s salary for someone earning the so-called minimum wage. And since that minimum wage isn’t enforced everywhere, for many Nigerians, a bag of rice costs more than they earn in a month.

3. The Ripple Effect: When Everything Becomes “Luxury”

Consumerism in Nigeria has a devastating ripple effect. When a celebrity with no business training can slap a “luxury” label on a mediocre product and sell it for ₦100,000, other entrepreneurs take note. They copy the strategy, the branding, the influencer marketing, the artificial scarcity and suddenly everything is marketed as luxury.

A regular bag becomes a “luxury bag.” A basic perfume becomes a “signature scent.” Market-stall quality items are priced like Hermès. And the average Nigerian, already stretched thin, is suffocated by a marketplace where nothing is affordable and everything claims to be premium.

If an item made with little effort can be sold exorbitantly, why can’t theirs as well when the same strategy is applied? Precisely that is what is happening in the Nigerian clime. Every businessperson markets their product as luxury. The average man is suffocated in all of this. This ripple keeps spreading, leading to the centralization of resources in the hands of a few. This is not good for any economy.

4. Consumerism crashes relationship

It puts a strain on relationships, consumerism is constant spending of money to acquire things. People can be with you for the wrong reasons. People would be with you so you can fund their lifestyle of consumerism and call it love and the moment the funds dont flow anymore it’s like they have fallen out of love for you.

CONCLUSION

Consumerism isn’t inherently evil. In economies with strong purchasing power, robust consumer protections, and equitable wealth distribution, it can even drive innovation and quality.

But Nigeria is not that kind of economy.

We are being sold a lifestyle we cannot afford by people who don’t understand the businesses they’re running. We’re told that prestige comes from what we buy, not what we build. And in a country where ₦1 buys you nothing but £1 can buy you a meal, every naira spent on manufactured desire is a naira stolen from survival.

The knife example I started with, where seven different knives replaced one functional blade, is a metaphor for our entire consumer culture. We’ve been convinced that excess is a necessity. That packaging is quality. That celebrity endorsement is craftsmanship.

Until we wake up from this illusion, we’ll remain trapped in a cycle where we work not to build wealth, but to feed the wealth of corporations and influencers who see us as nothing more than followers with wallets.

The question isn’t whether you can afford that ₦100,000 bag. It’s whether you can afford not to ask why you want it in the first place.

This work was authored by Ezichi Okeke and Nkeiru Okeke

To start with…who or what is an Almajiri in our society?

The Almajiri are children who are usually from poor backgrounds.They leave their hometowns to study Islamic learning with teachers of the Quran.

Over time, due to some socio-economic factors, the term has been expanded to include any young person who begs on the streets and does not attend secular school.

And, who is an activist in our society?

Simply put, a person who campaigns for a change (could be social, political or otherwise).

The act of activism can be carried out by both a person and organization. In the case of the organization it would oftentimes be an NGO.

The term “Almajiri Activist” is an intentional metaphor: just as the Almajiri system survives through moral foreground and neglect, so too does performative activism survive by feeding on unresolved injustice.

Now, to deconstruct…. “Almajiri Activism”

This is a word I coined myself to mean;

Almajiri Activists are people who campaign for the poor while benefiting from their struggle, using poverty as a facade to gain clout, resources, or moral authority they wouldn’t openly ask for.

Almajiri Activism aka “performative activism” for gain of any sort.

This phenomenon involves individuals feigning devotion to a social cause to solicit donations and exploit public empathy, undermining genuine activism. They frequently receive backing from the populace, driven by their own agenda, and once their objectives are met, which is usually for financial gain or public admiration, they move on to exploit the next opportunity.

Sometimes, these causes can be as little as soliciting for help for a sick person, transcending upwards to as big as controlling huge donor funds for NGOs.

This class of activist start in one of the following ways;

• Someone deliberately weaponizing poverty to build clout, funding, or political capital, and

• Someone who starts with genuine intent but gets absorbed into NGO economies, donor expectations, or media incentives.

Exhibit A

Those that deliberately weaponise Poverty (Opportunistic Alamajiri Activists)

There are several examples that shed light on how deep the rot has gotten, and if we dissected all of them, this paper would be inexhaustive. However, we’ll be dissecting some major examples.

A perfect example for this in the Nigerian scene is the Makoko project.

Makoko

Makoko has the biggest slum in Nigeria, several Non-Governmental Organizations (NGOs) and foundations are active in the Makoko community in Lagos, Nigeria, focusing on education, healthcare, vocational training, and infrastructure development to support the residents.

Sadly with all that effort the slum remains one of the worst in Nigeira and is currently being demolished as of today. Many NGOs have paraded Makoko as an area in need for huge funds for development but yet nothing ever gets done.

They line up children looking hungry and tattered and take their pictures, also pictures of the grimy waters and upload them on their website to get funds from donors but nothing eventually gets to the real poor person in Makoko.

The Makoko floating school was widely celebrated internationally and won design awards. But the project collapsed and was abandoned due to safety concerns in 2016 without becoming a long-term educational facility for the community.

The project brought global PR to architects, collaborators, small political aspirants who before then should have known that such a project wasn’t safe. A children’s school built on water is not in any way safe…common sense in reality is rare.

Example; The project put Kunle Adeyemi and his architecture firm NLÉ on the global map. The Makoko Floating School design was exhibited at the prestigious Venice Architecture Biennale, where its design concept received significant acclaim and awards (click here).

Inadvertently that attention translated into enhanced reputation, leading to speaking opportunities and academic involvement (click here)

This is not necessarily corruption, but the project’s global prestige far exceeded its direct impact on the Makoko residents. 3 years after the construction of the floating school, it collapsed.

Also the school project itself received funding for research and construction from Heinrich Böll Foundation (a German environmental foundation) and the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), later, the Lagos State Ministry of Tourism, Arts & Culture funded parts of the project, like the solar power and lighting installation.

When the project was abandoned in 2016 no concrete account was given as to where the remaining funds went to, beacsue in the real sense what was built was minute compared to the total funds received.

There were even funding wars between Isi Etomi, an early partner architect of Kunle Adeyemi. Isi Etomi later went on to launch a GoFundMe to raise independent funds for a community-led solution.

NGOs, individuals, corporates through their CSR; constantly come up with bogus ideas on how to revamp Makoko with little to no intentions of falling through with the ideas but yet broadcast these projects to garner some level of moral clout or PR for international visibility.

There’s a material pattern of personal, institutional, or reputational gain, not necessarily evil intent, but exactly the kind of thing the Alamajiri metaphor targets.

Tony Elumelu Foundation (TEF)

The Tony Elumelu Foundation is widely presented as Tony Elumelu’s flagship philanthropic vehicle. TEF’s public messaging always highlight him as the visionary leader whose personal philosophy (Africapitalism) drives the mission, but it fails to show how much external partners contribute to this objective and how much from his pocket does he actually contribute to TEF? Yet Elumelu’s personal brand becomes the headline, even if others help finance or implement programs. Examples of some of the organizations that fund and collaborate with TEF;

• European Union (EU),

• United Nations Development Programme (UNDP),

• the United States African Development Foundation (USADF)

• German Development Agencies (AFD/GIZ/DEG)

• African Development Bank (AfDB)

• Google & UNICEF (Generation Unlimited)

• Khalifa Bin Zayed Al Nahyan Foundation (KBZF)

• International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) etc

Aside from the donors and collaborators, the foundation claims to disburse over 100million in seed capital to entrepreneurs across Africa, train millions of young Africans through its online platform, and help create billions of dollars in revenue among beneficiaries (click here).

But there is little publicly accessible independent auditing, and critics point to issues like:

• difficulty verifying which recipients actually received funding,

• partners’ contributions not always visible outside TEF’s own reporting,

• and allegations that some programmes use requirements that benefit Tony Elumelu’s own business interests for example, beneficiaries being directed to open accounts with United Bank for Africa (UBA), where Elumelu is chairman.

• Some participants in the TEF 2023 cohort who after completing the program were later told they were ineligible for seed capital, without clear explanations leaving them in debts and administartive burdens.

Whilst most of the criticism remains partially unverified, it is safe to assert that Elumelu’s personal status and moral brand grow alongside TEF even when the real work involves partnered institutions, training networks, and numerous external funders.

The dominant story in media and public perception is always about Elumelu, not the broader ecosystem that financed or implemented the programmes

That’s a common pattern among what you’d call Opportunistic Almajiri Activists:

the cause becomes a platform that elevates the individual’s profile and moral authority, sometimes beyond the verifiable outcomes of the programmes themselves.

Exhibit B

Those that start but get absorbed in NGO economies, Donor expectations or media incentives

Social media turns advocates into celebrities. Visibility becomes currency. Advocacy stops being demanding and starts becoming enticing.

And Nigerians have a role to play in this, we often elevate activists into celebrity status. Once someone is perceived as “bold” or “fearless,” scrutiny reduces. When the need for accountability rises, supporters dismiss criticism as witch-hunt, they attack whistle blowers and conflate criticism with cause.

We often forget that protective loyalty can shield unethical behavior. This emotion, this need to be loyal and stand for a person and not a cause which could be the grundnorm and the reason for the activist’s role in the first place, cuts across various problematic discourses in Nigeria, but I digress.

This is how well-meaning advocates slowly slide into Alamajiri Activism, not because they want people to suffer, but because their survival becomes tied to the struggle they are mediating.

No villainizing. No moral grandstanding. Just cold clarity.

These advocates could ask for money directly, but shame and ridicule make that difficult. So instead, they ask through the poor. Poverty becomes a proxy. Suffering becomes a script.

Who the “Propagators” look like

Some advocates genuinely start with good intentions. They want to help people, they want to speak up, to be useful. But somewhere along the line, they get swallowed by media attention and their own personal needs.

Take cases like Harrison Gwamnishu, a human rights activist known for his involvement in anti‑kidnapping work, human rights campaigns, and public advocacy against n late 2025, he got into trouble over allegations of siphoning part of ransom money meant for a kidnapped couple. Whether or not his intent was evil from the start is beside the point. What matters is how advocacy, once mixed with desperation and unchecked trust, can turn slippery. Click here

Also pinning in on “VeryDarkMan”, he represents a new model for Nigerian activism,

Unlike structured NGOs with boards, audits, and compliance frameworks, VDM’s activism operates primarily through:

• Instagram broadcasts

• Viral video exposés

• Direct public call-outs

• Crowdfunded interventions

ln December 2024, VDM went public on social media claiming that his NGO’s website and banking system were hacked. His claims stated as follows:

• Around ₦180 million had been diverted into an unknown account.

• Only about ₦20 million remained in the account.

• A suspect had been arrested and the account was placed on “Post‑No‑Debit” (PND) status to prevent further loss.

• He said he was working to recover the funds and had temporarily shut down the NGO’s app for security reasons.

VDM’s claim immediately generated debate and significant skepticism. The FCT Police Command stated they were not aware of any formal investigation into missing funds related to VDM’s claim, suggesting there was no officiacase reported in that jurisdiction.

He later came out saying that no money was actually missing and that parts of the earlier narrative were essentially a “stunt” in which he was disappointed at how people jumped to conclusions without asking questions.

This back and forth with VDM first claiming a large diversion of funds and then saying nothing was missing later on, fuelled a lot criticism that his handling of the situation lacked clear transparency.

Over time, his advocacy has increasingly overlapped with personal beefs, online wars, and self-centred narratives.

And this is observable, not accusatory.

Since his crowdfunding, his lifestyle has visibly changed…travel, leisure, indulgence in things he could not previously afford before advocacy.

What makes this uncomfortable is not success itself, but the absence of clarity. Many of these social-media advocates have no visible job, no clear business, no transparent structure sustaining them yet advocacy suddenly affords them comfort, mobility, and status.

When advocacy becomes someone’s primary means of survival, it stops being just a moral calling and starts functioning like a career powered by sympathy, outrage, and constant crises. The advocate’s life improves alongside the suffering they spotlight.

Many of these advocates start off genuinely. But they are hungry too, financially unstable, emotionally invested, and often without any clear source of livelihood. Yet they parade themselves as advocates, destiny helpers, or moral gatekeepers.

We cannot deny the fact that the position of activism in our society today is more of an avenue to get fame, relevance and money rather than the desired change it appears to be yearning for. The patriotism and sincerity required to change a country is simply lacking in our brand of activism. This is why everyone with a substantial following on social media circles, no matter how ignorant or uninformed will quickly declare himself an activist (comrade) and begin to see his opinion as an authority which attracts strong rebuke when challenged

Dry Begging in its Glory

There’s another category of Alamajiri Activism that plays out daily on social media where creators turn poverty itself into content.

Let’s start by understanding what “dry begging” means to better understand the manipulation used by these sets of people.

Dry begging is an indirect way of seeking support whether emotional, financial, or practical without asking for it directly.

Example: Someone can show their daily living on Tiktok and show the state of abject penury they live in which makes their viewers feel sympathetic and compelled to raise funds for the person. The person might not necessarily ask for the money but that kind of content on Tiktok can provoke people emotionally leading them to make donations for such individuals.

These creators post “a day in my life” videos, but their entire story is about lack, and visible struggle. There is no direct request for help, just carefully documented suffering.

The goal isn’t to ask for money outright. It’s to emotionally provoke viewers into offering it themselves. Viewers begin to ask for account numbers, sending gifts, paying rent, buying food etc

Over time, poverty becomes the brand. The worse the situation looks, the better the engagement.

Creators like Onenes (click here) or “Debbie and family” (click here) on TikTok are often cited in public conversations around this trend, where hardship is consistently portrayed, sympathy is repeatedly triggered, and financial help flows in without any formal structure or accountability.

These creators could ask for help directly. But shame and ridicule make that difficult. So instead, poverty is staged repeatedly until the audience volunteers assistance.

This is not an argument against helping people in need. It’s a warning about what happens when poverty becomes content, sympathy becomes income, and suffering is quietly incentivized to remain unresolved.

Conclusion

The tragedy of Alamjiri Activism is not merely financial misconduct, it is a moral contradiction. When activism becomes brand management, the heart shifts from service to self preservation.

What all these examples reveal is not a shortage of empathy, but a distortion of it. From NGOs and foundations, to social-media advocates, to creators who turn hardship into content, a pattern emerges: suffering is increasingly mediated by people who survive off speaking about it.

This is not an argument against helping, but a warning: when advocacy consistently elevates the advocate more than the people they speak for, it stops being justice and starts becoming another form of exploitation, wrapped in good intentions.

Prior to the scarcity of ginger in Nigeria, Nigeria was one of the largest exporters of ginger in the world with an estimated revenue of ₦26 billion just in 2023. Our ginger commanded premium price on the world market thanks to its deep, unadulterated flavour.

Yet today, the story has changed drastically. Between 2023 and mid-2025, export volumes plunged by roughly 45%. Production shortfalls have forced importers to bring in ginger from China and India simply to meet domestic demand:

The figures for 2025 are provisional figures from TradeMap’s mid-year release. Full-year 2025 export data aren’t yet published. But what news outlets have broadcasted is zero (see BusinessDay link), which makes matters worse.

In 2023, 4kg of ginger = ₦5,000

Presently, 4kg of ginger = ₦35,00

Some observers alleged that the recent ginger scarcity and increase in price is a result of Bill Gates incessant meddling in the affairs of Africa disguised as philanthropic deeds.

The question is….How?

Genesis: The Nigeria APPEALS project

In 2016, the Federal Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Development (FMARD) and the World Bank launched the APPEALS Project. The Project was a targeted intervention to revitalise Nigeria’s priority value chains, with ginger singled out for special attention in Kaduna State. (APPEALS Project, link here)

The project provided enhanced roots (Rhizomes) that grew faster and bigger to triple Nigeria’s ginger industry and also to introduce farmers to better ways of farming.

Indeed the results were astounding, and farmers in no time started to get rid of natural rhizomes (popularly known as Tafin Giwa), to plant the new modified ones that offered better and faster results.

It is important to note that the new rhizomes needed a fungicide to grow which at that time were priced moderately for farmers, so everything seemed good and fine.

Although no standalone Memorandum of Understanding (MOU) between the Bill Gates Foundation and the Nigerian Government exists, the Gates Foundation was the principal backer of APPEALS. They channelled huge funds to organisations that controlled the Project;

• International Institute of Tropical Agriculture (IITA) — In 2017 alone the Gates foundation made a donation of $15,684,483.00 for Improved Ginger Rhizome Seed Systems for Northern Nigeria (see here)

IITA managed technical deployment and seed-hub logistics for the APPEALS project.

• AGRA — Gates Foundation disbursed $12 million in 2017 to AGRA for seed hub establishment across Nigeria, Ghana, Mali. This same AGRA has an MOU with FMARD (Federal Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Development). (see Gates Foundation Financials link here)

FMARD funds and controls the Nigerian APPEALS Project

Happily Never After

By mid-2018 the APPEALS project had delivered and all parties parked up their ship and left. But Nigerian Farmers couldn’t continue as usual because of a plethora of reasons;

1. Dependency on a Proprietary Fungicide

• The improved rhizomes proved highly susceptible to soil-borne pathogens unless treated with a specific fungicide licensed to a company allegedly backed by the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation.

• Every attempt to substitute or locally replicate that formulation ended in massive rot and total stand failure.

2. A 300% Price Shock

• What had been an affordable seed-treatment (fungicide) earlier in the project suddenly spiked in cost by over 300%.

• Smallholders who once paid a few thousand naira per hectare, now faced fungicide bills well beyond their annual working-capital budgets.

3. Devastating Disease Outbreaks

• From 2023 onward, farmers across Kaduna, Nasarawa and Plateau began reporting rampant fungal attacks, locally identified as Proxipyricularia zingiberis.

• By some estimates, these outbreaks wiped out as much as 95% of Nigeria’s ginger crop, costing growers over ₦12 billion in lost revenue. As a result of this, some farmers took their lives not out of choice but because they were swimming in debts. They called on FMARD to subsidize fungicide, but to no avail.

4. Corrupted” Soils and Lost Options

• In desperation, many tried to fall back on the natural rhizome “Tafin Giwa” planting material, but those natural rhizomes failed to sprout on fields previously planted with the improved varieties.

• Reports suggest that the modified rhizome introduced some sort of microbiome in those lands making them off-limits for planting natural rhizomes.

What began as a promise to triple yields and revitalize a key export crop has, in the wake of the APPEALS project, left Nigeria’s ginger belt in deep crisis.

Public Reaction

Beyond the economic devastation and human cost, Nigerian consumers have voiced some concerns. One noted that;

“The ginger isn’t gingering. It no longer taste or smell the same”

“The new ginger is pure wood”

On Twitter and Facebook, hashtags like #BringBackGinger and #SaveOurSpice has trended as a result of this.

This outcry strikes at the heart of Nigeria’s culinary identity. Ginger isn’t just an export commodity it flavors jollof rice, zobo drink, pepper soups and countless street-food favorites.

The perception that it has been “watered down” stands as the main public frustration with a project that promised to uplift, but has instead eroded both livelihoods and the intangible heritage of Nigerian cooking.

Haven’t We learnt?

It is pure delusion to think that a white man would want to build Africa into something richer and more prosperous than his own homeland, especially someone operating at the level of the richest man in the world.

Whether people like to admit it or not, many powerful nations benefit from Africa’s economic dependence. If Africa were fiercely independent, industrially developed, and economically strong, it would be in a far better position to negotiate favorable terms for its people rather than continually relying on foreign assistance.

After all, many of the resources the world desperately needs are found on this continent.

So tell me: why would those who benefit from the current arrangement want that to change?

I would like to believe our leaders are capable of seeing these realities. I would like to believe they can think deeply enough to anticipate the long-term consequences of such arrangements. Yet, even if they do see them, greed often overrides wisdom.

How does a Nigerian research institute test seeds brought in from abroad, discover that they require a particular fungicide for maintenance, and still fail to ensure that such inputs can be produced locally before introducing the seeds on a large scale? Or was the testing not done thoroughly in the first place?

And have we forgotten our history with them so quickly?

What concerns me most is the response from some people whenever these issues are raised:

“No GMO, sir. Kindly check the contract. The project was to process ginger, not kill ginger. The issue is poor farming techniques.”

To me, this reflects a narrow way of thinking; one that only acknowledges a problem when it is documented in a contract, a research paper, an MOU, or reported by an approved news outlet. Personal experiences from the farmers living through the situation are often dismissed as irrelevant.

The suggestion that Nigerian farmers suddenly lack the knowledge or skill to grow ginger is difficult to accept.

The past is not far behind us. Before this APPEAL project, many farmers planted ginger using methods that had served them for generations. They prepared the soil, planted the rhizomes, and in some cases supplemented with locally available compost. Yet Nigeria remained one of the world’s major ginger exporters.

What changed?

The most obvious difference is the increasing involvement of foreign interests in our agricultural systems.

It raises a difficult question: was this truly help, or did it create new forms of dependency?

Perhaps what frustrates me most is that this outcome was not inevitable. Surely, among the professors, researchers, agricultural scientists, and policymakers in government, someone could have anticipated the risks and insisted on safeguards that protected local farmers and local capacity.

But too often, short-term gains take precedence over long-term national interests. We continue to accept, adopt, and depend without asking whether we are strengthening ourselves or weakening ourselves.

And by the time the consequences become clear, the damage has already been done.

What is the thing I’m meant to correct? I absolutely have no clue, but I know it’s upon me, because of the extreme anxiousness I have been feeling. Chineke!! what is this? My whole body is in a terrible delirium of absolute nonsense.

I hope this isn’t how madness starts…when you’ve imagined so much that you topple into madness.

I get told “you imagine so much…get out of your head”….Chineke!! please I’m ready to get out of my head now. Especially since I don’t know what I’m supposed to correct…I don’t want to be sent back.

How about if I’m sent back to a culture that wants me to marry at the age of 12 to an uncircumcised 60 years old man that probably has all his teeth off and I have to marsh all his food for him to eat…but most miserably, by the time I’m 21 I’m expected to have had 8 children. Nsogbu ndi!!

But for real…this feeling is beyond a deja vu. I’ve lived the life of a socialite before, the life of a modest house wife, the life of extreme wealth ( I think I enjoyed that one the most)….glimpses of all these lives keep on resurfacing in my memory…like there is some glitch in my brain, like I’m at the point I need to rectify a mistake, if not I get sent back again until I get it right.

Biko nu….who feels this

This space is for the thoughts that sit uneasily about society, identity, power, culture, and the quiet contradictions we’ve learned to live with. Sometimes I question systems. Sometimes I question people. Sometimes I question myself.

Not everything here will be agreeable. That’s the point.

If you’re willing to think a little deeper, challenge what feels obvious, and sit with uncomfortable honesty, then you’ll find something here worth reading.

Welcome.