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Photo: Peter Obi (L) and Bola Tinubu (R)
Credit: Channel Tv |
By:
Matthew OparaIn the heat of the 2023 presidential campaign, then-candidate Bola Ahmed Tinubu stood before Nigerians and made a bold, unequivocal promise that would later haunt his administration. “If I don’t give you constant electricity in four years,” he declared, “don’t vote for me for a second term.” It was a pledge wrapped in confidence, one that positioned him as a leader ready to tackle Nigeria’s perennial power crisis head-on. “By all means necessary, you must have steady electricity,” he added in variations of the statement that circulated widely during rallies and media appearances.
Fast forward to April 2026, nearly three years into his presidency, and that promise has resurfaced not through fulfillment, but through irony and public frustration. On Thursday, April 2, 2026, President Tinubu made a brief stopover in Jos, Plateau State, to console families grieving the victims of a deadly attack in Angwan Rukuba that claimed dozens of lives. During his short visit, the President reportedly remarked on the lack of electricity at the airport, stating words to the effect of, “You have no light here, I fly out in ten minutes.” The comment, captured in viral clips and social media discussions, underscored a painful reality: even the nation’s leader could not endure more than a fleeting moment without reliable power in a major state capital.
This incident, highlighted in a Facebook post by former Anambra State Governor and Labour Party presidential candidate Peter Obi, has ignited fresh debate about governance, accountability, and the yawning gap between political rhetoric and on-ground performance. Obi’s post, titled “Tinubu in Jos Confirms ‘Don’t Vote for Me’ Prediction on Power Supply,” pulls no punches in contrasting the 2023 campaign vow with today’s realities.
The Campaign Promise vs. Ground Reality
When Tinubu assumed office in May 2023, Nigeria’s grid-connected power generation hovered around or above 4,000 megawatts (MW) on average, with relatively lower tariffs for many consumers. The sector faced chronic challenges—aging infrastructure, gas supply constraints, transmission bottlenecks, and vandalism—but there was a baseline that many hoped would improve under new leadership.
Today, according to various operational reports from the Nigerian Electricity Regulatory Commission (NERC) and industry analyses, average daily generation often dips below or hovers around 4,000–4,500 MW, with periods of even lower output amid frequent grid collapses. For instance, factsheets from early 2026 indicated average available capacity around 4,300 MW in some months, with actual dispatched power frequently constrained by multiple factors including gas shortages. While installed capacity stands at over 13,000 MW, real-world utilization remains far lower due to plant availability factors often below 40% and systemic inefficiencies.
Tariffs, meanwhile, have risen significantly for many consumers, particularly in higher service bands, as the government moved toward cost-reflective pricing. This shift, intended to attract investment and reduce subsidies, has placed additional financial pressure on households and businesses already struggling with inflation and economic hardship.
Nigeria’s electricity woes are not merely statistical; they translate into daily suffering. Industries operate at a fraction of capacity, relying on expensive diesel or petrol generators that inflate production costs and erode competitiveness. Small businesses—hairdressers, welders, tailors, and cybercafés—face disrupted operations and higher overheads. Students study by lantern or phone torchlight, hospitals grapple with power outages during critical procedures, and families endure sweltering nights without fans or refrigeration in a country where temperatures often soar.
Compounding the issue is Nigeria’s abysmally low per capita electricity consumption. Estimates place it around 144–165 kWh per person annually in recent years, significantly below the African average of approximately 617 kWh. This means the average Nigerian consumes less electricity than citizens in many other African nations, despite the country’s vast population and resource base. For context, countries like South Africa, Egypt, and even smaller economies in the region fare far better, enabling greater industrialization, improved healthcare outcomes, and enhanced quality of life. Nigeria ranks among the lowest globally in per capita electricity access, a metric that correlates strongly with broader development indicators such as GDP per capita, education, and poverty reduction.
The Jos Airport Incident: Symbolism Over Substance?
President Tinubu’s brief stop in Jos was necessitated by tragedy. The attack in Angwan Rukuba left communities in mourning, with reports indicating over two dozen fatalities and many injured. The President postponed other engagements to prioritize condolences, meeting with traditional rulers, families, and state officials. He emphasized the need for peace, security cameras, and stability in Plateau State, a region long plagued by farmer-herder clashes, banditry, and communal violence.
Yet, the airport remark—whether offhand or pointed—has drawn sharp criticism. In a nation where citizens routinely endure days or weeks of “darkness” (the colloquial term for power outages), the inability of the presidential entourage to manage even a short stay without highlighting the lack of electricity struck many as emblematic of detachment. As Peter Obi noted, “At a time when Nigerians are enduring days without power, our leaders cannot even stay a few minutes without it.”
This moment has been interpreted by critics as confirmation of the very prediction Tinubu himself set during the campaign. If the infrastructure at a state airport serving the presidential aircraft cannot guarantee basic power, what does that say about rural communities, urban slums, or industrial zones far from the corridors of power? Obi’s post frames it as “a glaring display of disregard for promises and a lack of trust,” urging Nigerians to reject leaders who “prioritise their own comfort over the well-being of the people and make empty promises.”
Deeper Structural Challenges in Nigeria’s Power Sector
Nigeria’s electricity crisis is decades in the making, rooted in policy inconsistencies, underinvestment, corruption, and technical failures. The power sector was unbundled in 2013 into generation, transmission, and distribution companies, but the reforms have yielded mixed results. Transmission infrastructure remains a major bottleneck, with wheeling capacity often cited around 7,000–8,000 MW even as generation struggles to reach that threshold consistently.
Gas supply to thermal plants—a mainstay of the grid—is frequently disrupted by pipeline vandalism in the Niger Delta, pricing disputes, and inadequate domestic gas infrastructure. Hydro plants like Kainji, Jebba, and Shiroro face seasonal variations and siltation issues. Many generating plants operate well below their nameplate capacity due to poor maintenance, obsolete equipment, and funding shortfalls.
Successive administrations have announced ambitious targets. The Tinubu government, for example, referenced goals of reaching 15,000 MW or more within years, alongside initiatives like the Siemens partnership to upgrade transmission and distribution. Some incremental additions to capacity have been reported—on the order of 1,000 MW or so in the first 30 months—but these have not translated into noticeable improvements for most end-users. Grid collapses remain a recurring nightmare, with multiple incidents recorded in recent years.
Tariff hikes, while economically rational on paper to encourage private investment, have sparked public backlash amid stagnant wages and rising living costs. Many consumers in lower bands still experience estimated billing rather than metered usage, fueling distrust in distribution companies (Discos).
Internationally, Nigeria lags peers. South Africa, despite its own challenges, generates far more power per capita. Egypt has achieved near-universal access. Even Ghana and Kenya have made strides in renewable integration and rural electrification. Nigeria’s vast renewable potential—solar in the north, wind in coastal areas, small hydro, and biomass—remains largely untapped, with policy and financing hurdles slowing progress.
The human cost is immense. The World Bank and other bodies have linked reliable electricity to poverty alleviation, job creation, and health improvements. Low power access perpetuates inequality: the wealthy install solar hybrids or industrial generators, while the poor rely on dangerous kerosene lamps or forgo basic services. Businesses relocate to countries with stable power, contributing to capital flight and unemployment.
Peter Obi’s Critique and the Call for Accountability
In his post, Peter Obi positions the Jos incident within a broader narrative of leadership failure. He contrasts the pre-2023 baseline with current metrics: stagnant or declining average generation, higher tariffs, and the world’s lowest per capita consumption. Obi, who has long advocated for competence, frugality, and results-oriented governance, argues that Nigeria deserves leaders with “the capacity and compassion” to deliver.
“A new Nigeria is possible,” he concludes, echoing his campaign slogan. This is not mere political rhetoric from Obi; it reflects a pattern in his public commentary, where he often cites data on education, security, health, and the economy to push for systemic change. Supporters see his intervention as a necessary reminder ahead of future electoral cycles, particularly as 2027 looms and Tinubu’s campaign promise enters its final stretch.
Critics of the current administration point to broader governance issues: economic reforms like fuel subsidy removal and naira floatation that, while aimed at long-term sustainability, have triggered short-term pain without visible offsets in critical areas like power. Security challenges, inflation, and youth unemployment compound the sense of disillusionment.
Defenders of the government argue that inherited problems cannot be fixed overnight, citing global energy transitions, post-COVID disruptions, and domestic sabotage. They highlight ongoing projects, regulatory tweaks, and commitments to add thousands of MW through private sector participation. Some point to modest gains in certain metrics or localized improvements in specific states or bands.
Yet, public sentiment, amplified on social media and in everyday conversations, leans heavily toward frustration. Viral videos of the Jos airport comment have fueled memes, debates, and calls for accountability. Many Nigerians ask: If a president’s team cannot secure power for a 10-minute stopover, how can ordinary citizens expect 24-hour supply?
The Road Ahead: What Must Change?
Fixing Nigeria’s power sector requires more than promises—it demands bold, sustained action across multiple fronts:
1. Investment and Infrastructure: Massive funding for transmission upgrades, new generation (gas, hydro, solar, wind), and distribution networks. Public-private partnerships must be transparent and performance-based.
2. Gas Sector Reforms: Secure, affordable domestic gas supply through pipeline protection, dedicated gas infrastructure, and pricing that balances producer incentives with consumer affordability.
3. Renewable Energy Push: Accelerated deployment of off-grid and mini-grid solutions, especially in rural areas, leveraging Nigeria’s solar resources. Policies like feed-in tariffs and tax incentives could attract investors.
4. Governance and Anti-Corruption: Strengthen regulatory oversight, reduce losses (technical and commercial), and ensure meters replace estimated billing. Accountability for failed projects is essential.
5. Human Capital and Maintenance: Train engineers, enforce maintenance schedules, and curb vandalism through community engagement and alternative livelihoods.
6. Demand-Side Management: Promote energy efficiency, incentivize industries to adopt efficient technologies, and integrate captive power properly into the grid.
Economists and energy experts estimate that Nigeria needs tens of thousands of additional MW to meet current and projected demand for a population exceeding 200 million. Achieving even 10,000–15,000 MW reliably would be transformative, powering small and medium enterprises (SMEs), which form the backbone of the economy.
Peter Obi’s post serves as a catalyst for this conversation. It reminds citizens that elections have consequences and that promises must be measured against outcomes. In a democracy, voters ultimately decide, but informed discourse—backed by data rather than emotion—is crucial.
As Nigeria grapples with multiple crises, the power sector stands out as both a symptom and a driver of underdevelopment. Leaders who fly in and out highlighting the very deficits they pledged to fix invite scrutiny. The Jos incident, tragic in its context of mourning, has become a metaphor for a nation still waiting for light—literally and figuratively.
Nigerians deserve better: competent leadership that matches words with deeds, policies that prioritize people over politics, and a power sector that delivers not just megawatts on paper, but reliable electricity in homes, hospitals, and factories.
A new Nigeria—where constant power is the norm, not the exception—is indeed possible. But it will require rejecting incompetence, demanding transparency, and supporting leaders who demonstrate both vision and execution. The clock is ticking on the 2023 promise. Come 2027, Nigerians will remember who kept faith and who did not.
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