Nigeria’s electricity challenge is like an octopus that has begun wrapping its tentacles around the President’s neck.
Last Friday, the Presidency said President Bola Tinubu could not enter Jos to console the families of those killed in the Palm Sunday attack because the Yakubu Gowon Airport had no electricity for night operations, the city was 40 minutes away, and the visit of the Chadian President earlier had run long.
However, such a defence only handed more nails to his critics to crucify him properly.
The President flew to Plateau State to commiserate with the families of the 28 innocent souls killed in the attack and the more than 20 people who were injured. The chilling video of Rhoda Favour Ayuba, a mother clutching the lifeless body of her son, shook the nation. At a time when attacks had become mere news, that image became a rallying cry for Nigerians to raise their voices against this persistent bloodshed.
Tinubu consoled the grieving families, declared that such an attack would not repeat itself and, as he did in Benue State last June, demanded arrests from the security chiefs. Five thousand AI-enabled cameras will also be planted across the state.
However, Nigerians could not ignore the location of the condolence visit, which happened at an airport departure lounge; a measure that, the Presidency explained, was meant to enable Tinubu to visit and jet out before nightfall, as the airport could not accommodate a take-off in the dark.
Among many words of consolation, he told the gathering, “You have no light at the airport, and I have to fly back within the next 10 minutes.” Anyone could have said that to the people of Plateau. A local government chairman. A commissioner. But the President? The man on whose table every buck stops? The man who, just a week earlier, stood at the APC National Convention and assured Nigerians that his administration was “paying attention” to the blackouts?
But this was Nigeria’s ancient power crisis doing what it has always done: embarrassing whoever occupies the office of the President. It embarrassed Obasanjo, Yar’Adua, Jonathan and Buhari. And on that Thursday evening, it held Tinubu up before Nigerians, just as Rafiki the baboon held up baby Simba before the animal kingdom in The Lion King. This time, however, it didn’t say, “Bow to the Prince.” It said, “Look upon your President. Look what I’m making of him.” It was like a visit where the guest only stops at your porch and doesn’t go in.
Nigeria’s electricity challenge is like an octopus. It has tentacles in generation, transmission, distribution, gas supply, metering, regulation, tariffs and political will. Every government since 1999 has wrestled with one tentacle or two and declared victory, only for the creature to regrow its limbs or tighten its grip elsewhere.
To be fair, Tinubu is not uniquely responsible for the darkness at Jos airport. That failure has a long value chain stretching from the Transmission Company to the local Disco to the airport authority. But the octopus does not care who built it. It only cares who is sitting in the chair when it squeezes. And it is squeezing Tinubu hard.
Had the President driven into Jos, visited the hospital, and walked the streets of Angwan Rukuba, the opposition would not have had him for lunch the way they did within hours. Former Vice President Atiku Abubakar called it a “choreographed spectacle.” Some residents said they would “vote for him at the airport in 2027.” A lawyer on X wrote that if it were a campaign, the President would have entered “the nooks and crannies of that state.” The power failure handed Tinubu’s opponents their ammunition, and they didn’t hold back.
Mr President, this present darkness is giving you a bad name. It is making your good be evil spoken of. You flew to Jos to sympathise with grieving citizens. The video of you addressing Rhoda showed a man who was moved. But the power crisis turned your empathy into a spectacle. And it will keep doing so until you treat it the way you have treated the state police question.
Mr President, on state police, you hijacked the conversation. You championed it during several Iftar dinners with governors and lawmakers. You pushed the constitutional amendment, and now the dominoes are falling. No one is asking whether state police will happen. They are only asking when.
Mr President, do the same with power. Own it. If it means doubling your portfolio as sitting Minister of Power, do it. Your predecessors doubled as Ministers of Petroleum Resources for a reason: some problems are too big for delegation. The Grid Asset Management Company is only a start. But starts are what they are: starts. The octopus needs to lose at least a few tentacles before you conclude your presidency.
