Corruption leaves Nigeria in the dark

Turn oil wealth into national prosperity and a civil society -- a job for Kofi Anan in his retirement ?!

By EDWARD HARRIS, Associated Press Writer Fri Mar 2, 1:54 PM ET
LAGOS, Nigeria - Day and night, a mechanical roar shakes Nigeria's main city and exhaust hangs in the leaden equatorial skies. But it's not evidence of heavy industry or a mechanized army division advancing on Lagos. With corruption and mismanagement leaving Africa's oil giant chronically short of electricity, businesses and walled residential compounds run diesel generators that clatter around the clock, spewing dirty fumes skyward.
For the vast majority of Nigeria's 140 million people who don't have the means to provide their own juice, that means added din and filth and lives in near-perpetual gloom, illuminated only when the power grid flickers on.
"This situation is very, very unfortunate. We have so many natural and human resources. If we could just develop them, Nigeria should be very powerful," said Marcus Eruaga, a 55-year-old doctor in a Lagos clinic with darkened operating room and dormant X-ray machines.
"Nigerians are very ingenious. If you give an artisan light, he'll be successful," said the doctor, who switches on the generator when patients come for treatment. "People want to work."
In the markets of Lagos, Africa's biggest city with a population of 14 million, people are getting along as well as they can.
Tailors hunch over foot-pedaled sewing machines, their knees pistoning as their fingers ease fabric beneath a flashing needle. Knives are sharpened on hand-spun grinding stones. Children study near open windows, while inside concrete hovels, wicks smoke in pots of kerosene.
The power failures — called "lights out" — come frequently and unpredictably. Even jobs that don't need electricity can be onerous, without fans or air conditioners in noontime temperatures nearing 100 degrees.
Despite low labor costs, Nigeria has little manufacturing due to the high price of energy, among other factors.
Across Lagos, Nigerians blame their notoriously corrupt government for the electricity problems, saying their leaders steal funds earmarked for the country's generators.
The government acknowledges problems and says it's increasing generating capacity, but maintains nonpayment of bills, pilfering of power lines and tapping of fuel pipelines are also contributing factors.
In 1979, Nigeria had 79 generating stations. Twenty years later, after a series of ruinous military governments, only 15 were working, producing 1,500 megawatts of power. The government hopes to increase that nearly 100-fold within 25 years.
Under President Olusegun Obasanjo, who was elected in 1999, the government is seeking to privatize the state-run power company, the National Electric Production Authority — known as NEPA. Nigerians joke that NEPA actually stands for "Never-Ever Power Always" and say reforms under Obasanjo haven't come rapidly enough.
Across the energy sector in Nigeria, which produces some 2 million barrels of crude oil per day, shortages are common. Nigerians say this is emblematic of their country's defining paradox: Such great potential riches, such extensive poverty.
After years of neglect, many Nigerian oil refineries are rusting hulks, with little refining capacity. One of the world's biggest oil producers must import most of its gasoline, which is sold at a deeply subsidized price.
But demand frequently outstrips supply, leaving motorists parked in fuel lines that can last all day. Unscrupulous gas station owners buy subsidized gasoline and ship it to other countries, where it's sold for huge profits.
Attempts to end the subsidies — which Nigerians view as one of the only benefits derived from a government that fails to provide clean water, decent health care, streetlights and many other public services — have caused riots.
Nigerians, in the end, are forced fend for themselves. And the lack of electricity is particularly rankling for many, for without it they say they're living a preindustrial existence.
"Light is a general thing. It makes jobs and when it's not there, we're useless," says Alfred Elegbe, a television repairman in a Lagos slum.
The 35-year-old father of three estimates he could earn about $200 per month fixing televisions and DVD players if there was reliable electricity. He now clears only about $30.
At night, Nigerians say, their children must study by candle or kerosene-lamp light. The heat and motionless air makes it difficult to sleep. Without electricity, water can't be pumped through taps. Meat spoils in refrigerators. There's little entertainment.
"When the lights go, everything becomes so quiet," says Elegbe. "It's so boring."
When the power does come on, Nigerians spring into action, joining the modern world in a flash. They connect to the Internet and watch foreign television and movies, looking closely to see what life is like elsewhere.
Air conditioners hum, fans turn and businesses without diesel generators throw open their doors for business.
Deji Medi, 27, operates a decades-old printing press that he says was shipped to Nigeria years ago from Germany. Electrical current turns the machine into a dynamo of arms and belts, churning out numbered receipts for a landlord.
Medi reckons a computer and laser printer could probably do the job faster, but without a steady source of power, he can't justify the investment.
"This old machine, it doesn't work without electricity," he said. "Of course, the computers, they don't work either."