OP-ED CONTRIBUTOR
A Country’s Frustration, Fueled Overnight

By CHIMAMANDA NGOZI ADICHIE

Published: January 16, 2012


Lagos, Nigeria

ON New Year’s Day, in my ancestral hometown of Abba in Anambra State in eastern Nigeria, my family and I woke up to unbelievable news: the price of petrol had doubled. Overnight, the government had removed what it called the subsidy on fuel, and almost immediately, transport fares exploded and food prices rose astronomically. It used to cost 4,000 naira — about $25 — to fill my petrol tank. Then it cost 10,000 naira. When I stopped to buy okpa, a steam-cooked bean dish, from a street hawker, she said it was no longer 50 naira; it was now 100.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because of fuel subsidy.”

A relative who had traveled to her village for the holidays called me to say that she was stranded there, unable to return to her job in Lagos; she could not afford the bus fare, which had doubled in price.

Nigeria, one of the world’s biggest exporters of crude oil, does not have adequate refineries and so it imports most of its petrol. The government claims that it pays a subsidy to importers to keep the prices low, and that these companies defraud the government by inflating their costs. Perhaps that is true, but it is a strange reason for raising prices, as though the government is incapable of policing fraud. Politicians have long discussed ending the subsidy, but no one expected it to happen when and how it did. There was something frightening about the abruptness of such a dramatic change, a sense of lurching, a violent uncertainty that captured the general mood in Nigeria.

Nigerians, particularly in the heavily Muslim north, live in fear of violence from the Islamist group Boko Haram. More than a hundred people have been shot to death or killed in bombings in recent weeks. My uncle, who lived most of his adult life in the northern town of Maiduguri, recently moved back east after a Boko Haram bomb exploded mere feet from his bookshop. Now he is struggling to start over, a man past middle age, grasping for hope. I saw him on New Year’s Day. He said he had only barely been able to afford the rent for a new shop in Awka, our state capital, and now he had to deal with the new price of petrol — he will have to spend much more on transportation and, since there is hardly ever any electricity, on the generator to power his shop. “How will I cope?” he asked.

Many government officials argued that the price increase would eventually benefit Nigerians, but they were unable to clearly articulate how. They made economic arguments that were abstract at best and nonsensical at worst. Sometimes the arguments conflicted: on one hand, we were told that the government would go bankrupt if it continued to pay the subsidy, and on the other, we were told that the subsidy would still be spent, this time on “infrastructure,” a vague word if ever there was one. Only yesterday, the government announced it would restore some part of the subsidy.

Like many Nigerians, I am infuriated — and puzzled — by the actions of a government that appears to be indifferent to if not contemptuous of its people. The idea that in a democracy, the government needs to persuade the majority of its citizens, eludes our leaders, perhaps because of the stubborn legacy of military rule, which ended only in 1998. We civilians, in turn, deeply distrust the government, because of our long experience with corrupt leaders. It is obvious that this price increase, the abruptness of it, the murky justifications for it, the government’s inability to properly engage about it, the destructive consequences it will have for millions in a country where there are few government services, will only further calcify the cynicism of a people who are already very cynical. Yet our leaders did it anyway. The message sent to Nigerians is this: You don’t matter. We don’t value you.

Economic arguments are useful, but so are human arguments, which seem alarmingly lost on the Nigerian government. Prices have gone up but salaries remain the same. A driver in Lagos who earns 25,000 naira, about $152 a month, would have had to spend almost three-quarters of his salary on transportation to and from work, and this is before he would have to pay for food and, if he has children, for school fees. In Nigeria we like to say that we can “manage,” but it is almost impossible to see how many people could manage that.

We are an oil-producing nation and it is not unreasonable for Nigerians to expect affordable petrol, nor is it unreasonable for Nigerians to expect more from a democratic government. A friend of mine, after calculating how much she would now spend getting to work in Lagos, said, with her eyes alive with rage, “Our senators make $100,000 a month if you count their salaries and allowances. A month! In dollars! They live in government houses and have government cars. And none of them pay for their own petrol.”

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is the author, most recently, of “The Thing Around Your Neck,” a collection of short stories.


http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/17/opinion/nigerias-latest-frustration.html?_r=3&hp

Economic arguments are useful, but so are human arguments, which seem alarmingly lost on the Nigerian government.

Nwannem nwanyi, may your pen never run dry.

This my sister has a good head on her shoulders.

She sure does. Very sensible article.

A real igbo girl, she is not one of those fools shouting 'we'v been buying fuel for for more than 65 so subsidy must go','No more free oil'.Perphaps she has arewa or yoruba blood in her

a government that appears to be indifferent to if not contemptuous of its people. - Chimamanda

Very well put.

A sensible Igbo girl

seems the sensible ibos are those who made it out of the se

If you stay too long in Yiboland its either you turn to osisikankwu, Vincent Duru or the ABSU 5

^^^^^^IDIOOOTTTTTTSSS,
She went to school in the SE before traveling out of Nigeria!

oyb:

seems the sensible ibos are those who made it out of the se

The sensible yaribos are those who made it out of the SW

hey fool above me,

i just want to commend your foolishness.

i'm sorry people if i'm giving this fool undue attention.

^^^^That's a girl your age giving you a lecture about Nigeria and all you can come up with this trash!

Na to spend your time for Nl dey talk rubbish!

^ she's a 35 yr old grown woman. show some respect.


my opinion is I don't find her to be original and really don't get all the hype about her. even her popular TED talk seems to come word-for-word from an Achebe interview from the 80s that I watched somewhere. I was reading d article this morning and it read so boring like a typical adichie novel although she started to make more sense toward the end of the article. I am however happy there is an op-ed piece from naija on nytimes. I will give her props for making that happen.

Kilode?!:


Nigeria, one of the world’s biggest exporters of crude oil, does not have adequate refineries and so it imports most of its petrol. The government claims that it pays a subsidy to importers to keep the prices low, and that these companies defraud the government by inflating their costs. Perhaps that is true, but it is a strange reason for raising prices, as though the government is incapable of policing fraud. Politicians have long discussed ending the subsidy, but no one expected it to happen when and how it did. There was something frightening about the abruptness of such a dramatic change, a sense of lurching, a violent uncertainty that captured the general mood in Nigeria.

Nigerians, particularly in the heavily Muslim north, live in fear of violence from the Islamist group Boko Haram. More than a hundred people have been shot to death or killed in bombings in recent weeks. My uncle, who lived most of his adult life in the northern town of Maiduguri, recently moved back east after a Boko Haram bomb exploded mere feet from his bookshop. Now he is struggling to start over, a man past middle age, grasping for hope. I saw him on New Year’s Day. He said he had only barely been able to afford the rent for a new shop in Awka, our state capital, and now he had to deal with the new price of petrol — he will have to spend much more on transportation and, since there is hardly ever any electricity, on the generator to power his shop. “How will I cope?” he asked.

Many government officials argued that the price increase would eventually benefit Nigerians, but they were unable to clearly articulate how. They made economic arguments that were abstract at best and nonsensical at worst. Sometimes the arguments conflicted: on one hand, we were told that the government would go bankrupt if it continued to pay the subsidy, and on the other, we were told that the subsidy would still be spent, this time on “infrastructure,” a vague word if ever there was one. Only yesterday, the government announced it would restore some part of the subsidy.

Like many Nigerians, I am infuriated — and puzzled — by the actions of a government that appears to be indifferent to if not contemptuous of its people. The idea that in a democracy, the government needs to persuade the majority of its citizens, eludes our leaders, perhaps because of the stubborn legacy of military rule, which ended only in 1998. We civilians, in turn, deeply distrust the government, because of our long experience with corrupt leaders. It is obvious that this price increase, the abruptness of it, the murky justifications for it, the government’s inability to properly engage about it, the destructive consequences it will have for millions in a country where there are few government services, will only further calcify the cynicism of a people who are already very cynical. Yet our leaders did it anyway. The message sent to Nigerians is this: You don’t matter. We don’t value you.

Economic arguments are useful, but so are human arguments, which seem alarmingly lost on the Nigerian government. Prices have gone up but salaries remain the same. A driver in Lagos who earns 25,000 naira, about $152 a month, would have had to spend almost three-quarters of his salary on transportation to and from work, and this is before he would have to pay for food and, if he has children, for school fees. In Nigeria we like to say that we can “manage,” but it is almost impossible to see how many people could manage that.

We are an oil-producing nation and it is not unreasonable for Nigerians to expect affordable petrol, nor is it unreasonable for Nigerians to expect more from a democratic government. A friend of mine, after calculating how much she would now spend getting to work in Lagos, said, with her eyes alive with rage, “Our senators make $100,000 a month if you count their salaries and allowances. A month! In dollars! They live in government houses and have government cars. And none of them pay for their own petrol.”

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is the author, most recently, of “The Thing Around Your Neck,” a collection of short stories.


http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/17/opinion/nigerias-latest-frustration.html?_r=3&hp

Thank you Chimamanda.

Thank you for reiterating what we have been saying over and over. Thank you for adding your voice to the thoughtless, clueless, shallow and mindless sudden and astronomical increase in the prices of commodities that are as crucial to the economy as petrol and kerosene.

And lastly, thank you for choosing not to be tribalistic, parochial, or narrow-minded about this. This is the way to rescue Nigeria from the hands of all cabals - whether oil importers or those in government.

@Pukka

Nwannem, when this policy turns out good don't also forget to thank me . Its a two way thing.

"Economic arguments are useful, but so are human arguments" COPYING THIS TO MY QUOTABLE QUOTABLES

Ninapha:

@Pukka

Nwannem, when this policy turns out good don't also forget to thank me .  Its a two way thing.

I'm waiting Ninapha.

I wish it turned out well but have you been following the House of Reps hearing on the investigation into the fuel subsidy?

And even if there was a subsidy that needed to be removed, have they not just simply moved it from one cabal (oil importers/NNPC/PPPRA, etc) to another (state governors, FG, etc) while I have to pay more for fuel?

I want Nigeria to succeed under Jonathan but I tell you, the signs are ominous.

Ninapha brother, I am waiting and watching.  

Horayce:

"Economic arguments are useful, but so are human arguments" COPYING THIS TO MY QUOTABLE QUOTABLES

Chimamanda has aptly described the point I was trying to make while discussing with some of the pro-removal guys on another thread. The price system is all about profits, not people. But who gets to spend the profits when the people are all dead in long run?

I tell you, it's a fine quote.

Jenifa_:

^ she's a 35 yr old grown woman. show some respect.


my opinion is I don't find her to be original and really don't get all the hype about her. even her popular TED talk seems to come word-for-word from an Achebe interview from the 80s that I watched somewhere. I was reading d article this morning and it read so boring like a typical adichie novel although she started to make more sense toward the end of the article. I am however happy there is an op-ed piece from naija on nytimes. I will give her props for making that happen.

you should give yourself a kick for saying that. why not purge your sentiments from popular judgement! that lady is the last strand this generation has on literature. I love her books, half of a yellow sun made lot of sense to me and i could relate with quite good. I respect the Igbo tribe on ground not the fools you see here who have twisted the struggle Ojukwu ( the man they so claim to epitomize) stood for.
If Ojukwu was alive, he would lead the struggle against fuel subsidy and the Boko nonsense, but without him, the few you see around ( nairaland and recent supposed peaceful protesters) are  geographically misplaced ethnic bigots! the Yoruba bigots inclusive (so dont go thinking i support any tribe).
two ethnic groups that should rule the continent, pitiably confused and derailed!
there is a woman giving them good! not the confused figure Asari Dokubo or the sorts.

Brilliant!

she's responding at which hour of the day ? why didn't she write when things were hot, steaming, and brewing.

Kilode?!:


— and puzzled — by the actions of a government that appears to be indifferent to if not contemptuous of its people. The idea that in a democracy, the government needs to persuade the majority of its citizens, eludes our leaders, perhaps because of the stubborn legacy of military rule, which ended only in 1998.

Could the bolded be a mistake? Or could She be living a year ahead of us?

[b]The girl does NOT KNOW ABOUT NIGERIA'S HISTORY. [/b]She's only a writer. she doesn't even live in the country.

obowunmi:

She's only a writer. she doesn't even live in the country.

And what is your point?

[size=16pt]I always ask myself the question:

"What is the role of INTELLECTUALS in Nation building, particularly in the African context?"

Achebe lives permanently in America and continues to give himself to the very people who engineer our doom. Soyinka is too withdrawn to his own intellectual magnanimity often he strikes me as disconnected from the real issues. By far the man FELA, appears to be more genuinely pro-people than our two most decorated intellectuals.

I am not always a fan of popular writers, because if the West sings your praise, it has to be that you are not dealing with the most important truths at the MOMENT.
Perhaps, like Chimamanda, Achebe and a host of other African intellectuals, you are reporting the past, and that's fine, since it's the past and we can "just move on."

But what about today?

"What is the role of INTELLECTUALS today?" other than attending endless conferences and book tours that offer little to no tangible benefit to the common man.

I am a poet and playwright only just forming, and this question cuts through my heart every day.

"Our Job is to make life worth living" pens Orwell.

[/size]

Jenifa_:

^ she's a 35 yr old grown woman. show some respect.


my opinion is I don't find her to be original and really don't get all the hype about her. even her popular TED talk seems to come word-for-word from an Achebe interview from the 80s that I watched somewhere. I was reading d article this morning and it read so boring like a typical adichie novel although she started to make more sense toward the end of the article. I am however happy there is an op-ed piece from naija on nytimes. I will give her props for making that happen.

Bad belle of the first order. Why don't you write your own and have it published on PM News.

People have begun to miss the of this article which is the article itself. Not the writer, the writer's tribe, motivation, geographical location, accolades or contribution to society. This write up is good. It is not an articulate and logical argument based n fact and figures, it is a human interest piece that succeeds in having a very humane angle. I'm an Adichie fan but I give it this article right now, there is no living politician with a tongue silver enough to sufficiently answer the queries it raises.

The same things we are all concerned about, only put together by a writer.

Jenifa_:

^ she's a 35 yr old grown woman. show some respect.


my opinion is I don't find her to be original and really don't get all the hype about her. even her popular TED talk seems to come word-for-word from an Achebe interview from the 80s that I watched somewhere. I was reading d article this morning and it read so boring like a typical adichie novel although she started to make more sense toward the end of the article. I am however happy there is an op-ed piece from naija on nytimes. I will give her props for making that happen.

You can Drink Acid and Hug Transformer for all i care,  If NY times finds her genuine, based on her talents and her works to become a Co-editor , who are u to become a critic? where u read reach?

Kilode?!:

OP-ED CONTRIBUTOR
A Country’s Frustration, Fueled Overnight

By CHIMAMANDA NGOZI ADICHIE

Published: January 16, 2012


Lagos, Nigeria

ON New Year’s Day, in my ancestral hometown of Abba in Anambra State in eastern Nigeria, my family and I woke up to unbelievable news: the price of petrol had doubled. Overnight, the government had removed what it called the subsidy on fuel, and almost immediately, transport fares exploded and food prices rose astronomically. It used to cost 4,000 naira — about $25 — to fill my petrol tank. Then it cost 10,000 naira. When I stopped to buy okpa, a steam-cooked bean dish, from a street hawker, she said it was no longer 50 naira; it was now 100.“Why?” I asked.

“Because of fuel subsidy.”

A relative who had traveled to her village for the holidays called me to say that she was stranded there, unable to return to her job in Lagos; she could not afford the bus fare, which had doubled in price.

Nigeria, one of the world’s biggest exporters of crude oil, does not have adequate refineries and so it imports most of its petrol. The government claims that it pays a subsidy to importers to keep the prices low, and that these companies defraud the government by inflating their costs. Perhaps that is true, but it is a strange reason for raising prices, as though the government is incapable of policing fraud. Politicians have long discussed ending the subsidy, but no one expected it to happen when and how it did. There was something frightening about the abruptness of such a dramatic change, a sense of lurching, a violent uncertainty that captured the general mood in Nigeria.

Nigerians, particularly in the heavily Muslim north, live in fear of violence from the Islamist group Boko Haram. More than a hundred people have been shot to death or killed in bombings in recent weeks. My uncle, who lived most of his adult life in the northern town of Maiduguri, recently moved back east after a Boko Haram bomb exploded mere feet from his bookshop. Now he is struggling to start over, a man past middle age, grasping for hope. I saw him on New Year’s Day. He said he had only barely been able to afford the rent for a new shop in Awka, our state capital, and now he had to deal with the new price of petrol — he will have to spend much more on transportation and, since there is hardly ever any electricity, on the generator to power his shop. “How will I cope?” he asked.

Many government officials argued that the price increase would eventually benefit Nigerians, but they were unable to clearly articulate how. They made economic arguments that were abstract at best and nonsensical at worst. Sometimes the arguments conflicted: on one hand, we were told that the government would go bankrupt if it continued to pay the subsidy, and on the other, we were told that the subsidy would still be spent, this time on “infrastructure,” a vague word if ever there was one. Only yesterday, the government announced it would restore some part of the subsidy.

Like many Nigerians, I am infuriated — and puzzled — by the actions of a government that appears to be indifferent to if not contemptuous of its people. The idea that in a democracy, the government needs to persuade the majority of its citizens, eludes our leaders, perhaps because of the stubborn legacy of military rule, which ended only in 1998. We civilians, in turn, deeply distrust the government, because of our long experience with corrupt leaders. It is obvious that this price increase, the abruptness of it, the murky justifications for it, the government’s inability to properly engage about it, the destructive consequences it will have for millions in a country where there are few government services, will only further calcify the cynicism of a people who are already very cynical. Yet our leaders did it anyway. The message sent to Nigerians is this: You don’t matter. We don’t value you.

Economic arguments are useful, but so are human arguments, which seem alarmingly lost on the Nigerian government. Prices have gone up but salaries remain the same. A driver in Lagos who earns 25,000 naira, about $152 a month, would have had to spend almost three-quarters of his salary on transportation to and from work, and this is before he would have to pay for food and, if he has children, for school fees. In Nigeria we like to say that we can “manage,” but it is almost impossible to see how many people could manage that.

We are an oil-producing nation and it is not unreasonable for Nigerians to expect affordable petrol, nor is it unreasonable for Nigerians to expect more from a democratic government. A friend of mine, after calculating how much she would now spend getting to work in Lagos, said, with her eyes alive with rage, “Our senators make $100,000 a month if you count their salaries and allowances. A month! In dollars! They live in government houses and have government cars. And none of them pay for their own petrol.”

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is the author, most recently, of “The Thing Around Your Neck,” a collection of short stories.


http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/17/opinion/nigerias-latest-frustration.html?_r=3&hp

I like OKPA too. Especially from Oji River or 9th mile

Here comes the truly breath of fresh air who ordinarily shd be ignorant of the shocking poverty  policies of our government, & instead of being divorced from the pains of her people, is rather deeply concerned about the plights of the ordinary man and woman often trampled upon in the scramble for greed. Some of our GEJ's sympathisers here can never see the essence of plain arguments; these are those who would do just anything to harm the truth, who would write & vent stupid stuff in favour of those in authority, & feel a sense of exhiliratn to hv their man in power, nothing more. Why is it that the average African person worships authority figures who lord over him? Why does he offend his conscience/God & manfully repair to end up on the wrong track of history? Why does he prefer acquiescence to protest? Why does he colour any sane argument with the brush of triabalism and divisive partisanship? Perhaps the reason is that the African, or better put, the Nigerian citizen, is dead from the neck up. But this world-famous Nigerian-born novelist is a great relief: she is true to her arts and conscience. Nairaland shd be an intellectual powerhouse but regrettably scoundrels who would do anything to be noticed & used as thugs by politicians hv reduced it to a gutter arena where pedestrian madness reigns. Thank you, Chimamanda! Thank you! There is hope for the country with sound minds like yours!