Mehkurydiaries

Nigeria now collects two taxes from many citizens. The first is deducted officially. The second waits at the petrol station. It requires no legislation, public hearing or mercy. On September 21, Reuters reported petrol selling around ₦1,400 per litre in Lagos and Abuja, reaching ₦1,500 in parts of the north. Diesel had crossed ₦2,000. These figures do not remain at the pump. Petrol is a restless traveller. It enters the bus fare. It follows the farmer to the market. It sits beside the generator in the barber’s shop. It hides inside sachet water, refrigerated medicine, bread and the delivery fee for nearly everything. In Nigeria, fuel is not merely an energy product. It is the operating system of daily survival. The painful irony is that this price surge has arrived while the Dangote refinery is reportedly operating at full capacity. Domestic refining has reduced dependence on imported finished fuel, but it has not built a wall around Nigeria. International crude prices still knock on ...

Nigeria can launch an education programme in Abuja. A child in Amorji still has to learn to read on Monday. In July 2026, the government launched HOPE-EDU, a $552 million basic-education programme backed by the World Bank and the Global Partnership for Education. Its announced reach is enormous: about 29 million children and more than 500,000 teachers. Those figures deserve attention. They do not deserve applause in advance. I taught Basic Science and Basic Technology at Government Secondary School, Amorji, during my national service. A classroom teaches you what a podium cannot: a programme has not reached a child simply because that child appears in its target population. The lesson must be explained. The exercise must be marked. A confused pupil must be noticed before silence hardens into failure. Teachers need materials, time, support and an honest account of what their students actually understand. A photograph of new supplies is not the same thing as supplies that survive the ...

My laptop can run for four or five hours on a full charge. That should be enough for serious work. In Nigeria, it merely begins a negotiation with darkness. The battery dies precisely when thought becomes useful. Not because the machine is weak, but because public electricity has been absent long enough for private resilience to become another unpaid profession. We speak about power failure as though it were an inconvenience. It is not. It is a tax on thought. Every outage interrupts more than appliances. It breaks concentration, delays research, corrupts files, shortens equipment life and forces the worker to become a miniature power company. Before a Nigerian builds software, writes a paper or runs a business, he may first need to buy fuel, service a generator, replace an inverter battery and pray that the transformer has not entered eternal rest. Then we ask why innovation is expensive. The Nigerian Electricity Regulatory Commission reported an average available grid-connected ge...