Nigeria’s War Against Solar and Common Sense

I promised myself I wouldn’t write too much about Nigeria’s politics. It has been a good decision for my sanity, my productivity, and, quite frankly, my blood pressure. But Nigeria, ever the expert in testing limits, always finds a way to drag you back in. You try to mind your business, live your life, and avoid unnecessary stress, and then one day, you wake up to the news that someone in government has had another bright idea. An idea so bad that it demands a response. A response, not so much because anyone is going to read and adjust the sail of the country, but to express my frustrations and concerns through my preferred medium. I also want to ensure that I have a record of my stance, so that when others ask where I stood on these issues, I can point to my words. It’s a way of holding myself accountable and contributing to the conversation, even if it feels like a drop in the ocean.

This time, it’s solar panels.

After years of enduring PHCN’s erratic service, I finally took matters into my own hands last year. It wasn’t one of those long, carefully considered decisions. One moment, I was wrestling with the impossible task of finding fuel for the generator; the next, I was on the phone with a contact who gave me another contact, and before I knew it, my house had a solar setup. As with most things involving Nigerian artisans, the installation wasn’t exactly perfect. I stood there looking at the work, shaking my head, thinking that I could have done a much better job if I had gone the DIY route.

But once I started using solar, I became deeply invested in understanding how it works. I spoke to a lot of people, did my research, and quickly realized that the Nigerian solar market is riddled with problems. The first lesson you learn is that cutting corners isn’t just an occasional bad habit; it is practically a business model. Some people pay millions to installers who promise an efficient system, only to discover that they can barely power a standing fan and a few bulbs for a few hours. Others attempt to handle things themselves and find out the hard way that the labels on solar products mean nothing. A panel advertised as 200W might actually be 150W. A battery that should last five years might struggle to survive two.

The situation is so bad that some Nigerians would rather order small electrical components from China and ship them in than risk buying locally. The market is full of substandard products, and because there are no real consumer protection laws, sellers get away with anything. If there is one thing Nigeria’s solar industry needs, it is better competition and proper standards.

But instead of fixing these problems, the government has chosen a different approach this week, one that makes absolutely no sense. They want to ban the importation of solar panels.

The logic, according to them, is that this will encourage local manufacturing and help Nigeria transition to clean energy. This decision is backed by Presidential Executive Order No. 5, which prioritizes local content in science, engineering, and technology.

If this sounds familiar, it’s because we’ve seen this play out before.

The Buhari administration did the same thing with rice imports, claiming that local farmers would take over, and Nigeria would achieve food security. Those who have been with me for a while know how much I wrote about this hare-brained policy between 2018-2020. What actually happened was that food prices skyrocketed, smuggling flourished, and the country ended up with some of the worst food inflation rates in the world (and possibly the highest if you refuse to go along with the statistical engineering they are doing at the NBS). The same logic was applied to car imports. Two decades later, sky-high import duties have made it nearly impossible for the average Nigerian to buy a decent vehicle, and we are all stuck driving 20-year-old Tokunbo cars. The textile industry suffered the same fate. Bans were placed to protect local manufacturers, but China still dominates the market, and Nigerians continue to buy foreign fabrics.

Now, the government wants to do the same thing with solar panels. Why do we keep repeating bad ideas that have never worked?

Nigeria’s solar industry is one of the few sectors actually showing promise, and not because of government policies, but in spite of them. Companies like Earthbond and Arnergy have secured millions of dollars in funding to expand solar solutions across Nigeria. These startups rely on imported panels to power homes and businesses. If the government cuts off their supply, they don’t miraculously create a local industry overnight. They simply cripple a growing sector, drive up costs, and force businesses to look elsewhere.

There is no meaningful solar panel manufacturing industry in Nigeria. The infrastructure, the expertise, and the supply chains simply do not exist. Even if we somehow rushed into production, it would take years before locally made panels could match the efficiency and reliability of what is currently imported. In the meantime, Nigerians would be left with lower-quality products at inflated prices. Investors, who need stability and predictability, would see this as yet another risk and move their money to more favorable markets.

If the government genuinely wants to support local solar production, banning imports is the worst possible way to go about it. A smarter approach would be to encourage joint ventures with established foreign manufacturers who already have the expertise. Instead of making it harder for businesses to source materials, they could lower tariffs on essential components to allow manufacturers to set up assembly plants in Nigeria. They could also introduce proper regulations to ensure that Nigerians aren’t just buying fake solar panels wrapped in “Made in Nigeria” branding. And if they were truly serious about increasing solar adoption, they would expand financing options, so people could transition to clean energy without breaking the bank.

But no, Nigeria’s government has a long and proud history of picking the most counterproductive solution available.

Banning solar panel imports in a country that barely has electricity is like banning umbrellas in the middle of the rainy season. It is a policy so absurd that even NEPA officials would shake their heads. And at the end of the day, the sun will keep shining. The real question is whether Nigeria will harness that energy or, as usual, stay in the dark, both literally and figuratively. Or does anyone seriously think what they have been doing with the Band alphabets would bear any results?