Nigeria is trying to use the wealth of the old economy to build the new one, all while managing a cost-of-living crisis. For them, climate policy is ultimately about national stability and economic security.

Every evening, across the sprawling city of Lagos, a familiar sound kicks in: the sputtering roar of thousands of diesel generators. This is the sound of a nation coping, a symphony of self-reliance in the face of a struggling power grid. But with every puff of black smoke from these generators, Nigeria’s contribution to a global problem grows.

The story of Nigeria’s greenhouse gas emissions is a tale of two countries. One is an economic giant fueled by oil, whose flares light up the night sky in the Niger Delta. The other is a nation of farmers watching their lands turn to dust, and coastal communities seeing their homes swallowed by the sea. The political forces that decide which story defines our future are complex, contentious, and deeply human.

The Political Forces at Play

Political Leadership: The Tightrope Walk

Imagine being a leader whose treasury depends on the very thing the world is asking you to move away from. This is the daily reality for Nigeria’s government, led by President Bola Tinubu.

Their position is not one of climate denial but of pragmatic survival. Oil revenue is the lifeblood of the national budget. It pays teacher salaries, funds infrastructure projects, and keeps the economy afloat. To abruptly abandon it would be economic suicide.

However, a crucial shift is occurring. The government is no longer just defending its right to develop; it’s presenting a bill. The Climate Change Act of 2021 and the ambitious Energy Transition Plan are, in essence, a formal proposal to the world. The message is clear: “We see the future you want to build. We want to build it with you, but we need help. Help us finance this enormous shift, or we will have no choice but to keep using the resources we have to power our homes and industries.”  

The contradiction is stark. The same week officials champion green energy at an international conference, they might approve a new contract for oil exploration. This isn’t necessarily hypocrisy; it’s a high-stakes balancing act. They are trying to use the wealth of the old economy to build the new one, all while managing a cost-of-living crisis. For them, climate policy is ultimately about national stability and economic security.

Technical Capacity: The Power of the Sun vs. The Reality of the Grid

Nigeria is a country bathed in sunlight, yet it lives in darkness for large parts of the day. This irony lies at the heart of its technical challenge.

The expertise to embrace renewable energy exists. Brilliant Nigerian engineers and innovative startups are installing rooftop solar panels from Port Harcourt to Kano. But these are often individual solutions—a hospital ensuring its vaccines stay cold, a small business keeping its lights on.

The monumental task of nationwide change hits a wall: the grid. The national electricity system is fragile and unreliable. This has forced the country into a “diesel generator economy,” where every factory, bank, and even many homes must own a backup power source. These generators are incredibly inefficient and polluting, becoming a major, decentralized source of emissions.

So, while the technical ability to harness solar power is growing, the capacity to integrate it on a scale that would make a real dent in emissions is lagging far behind. We are trying to build a green skyscraper on a foundation that is still being repaired. 

The Media: Connecting the Global to the Local

For many years, climate change was a distant story for the Nigerian media—something about melting ice caps far away. That changed when the floods came.

The devastating floods of 2022, which submerged vast areas of the country, were a turning point. Suddenly, headlines weren’t about abstract temperatures but about families in Bayelsa losing their homes and farmers in Adamawa losing their entire harvest. The media became a crucial translator, taking complex terms like “climate adaptation” and showing what they mean for a woman selling beans in a local market.

Outlets like Premium Times now run powerful investigations into the environmental damage in the Niger Delta. The narrative is shifting from “this is a problem” to “this is our problem, and here is how it affects you.” This connection is vital for building public understanding and pressure for action.  

Popular Opinion:  The Hierarchy of Needs

Ask a young professional in Lagos about climate change, and they might talk about electric cars and recycling. Ask a farmer in Sokoto, and they will point to the shrinking lake they depend on.

Public opinion is split by immediate necessity. For the urban and connected, climate action is part of a modern, global identity. They are demanding cleaner air and sustainable policies.

But for the vast majority of Nigerians, the equation is simpler. Their primary concerns are “Will there be light today?” and “Can I afford food for my family?” Climate change is experienced not as a future threat, but as a present-day tax on their survival—a bad harvest, a flooded business, a higher price for kerosene.

They are not against climate action; they are for survival. They will support solar energy if it is cheaper and more reliable than generator fuel. They will embrace climate-smart farming if it guarantees higher yields. Their support is practical, not ideological. For them, a successful climate policy makes daily life easier and more secure.  

A Path Forward 

The most powerful actor capable of orchestrating meaningful change in Nigeria’s climate story is undoubtedly its Political Leadership. A single, decisive action could signal a true turning point, moving the nation from rhetoric to tangible progress. That action must be a genuine, unwavering commitment to end the scourge of gas flaring, not with another forgotten deadline, but with a concrete national mission.

For decades, the Niger Delta’s night sky has been illuminated by the eerie, wasteful glow of gas flares. This natural gas, a valuable resource extracted alongside crude oil, is burned off as a mere byproduct, poisoning the air and contributing massively to greenhouse gas emissions. Successive governments have declared intentions to stop this practice, yet the flares persist as monuments to broken promises. It is time for a new, more robust approach: the government launches a national project that treats gas capture not as a peripheral environmental concern but as a critical economic and environmental mission central to the nation’s interests.

This mission must be driven by a clear “carrot and stick” framework. The “stick” involves imposing immediate and significant financial penalties on oil companies that continue to flare gas. These fines must be substantial enough to make the practice unprofitable, transforming it from a cost of doing business into a serious liability. Concurrently, the “carrot” would see the revenue from these very fines channeled into a special development fund. This fund would then offer targeted support—through grants and low-interest loans—to Nigerian businesses and entrepreneurs ready to build the infrastructure needed to capture this gas and convert it into usable resources, such as Compressed Natural Gas (CNG).

The beauty of this approach lies in its practical alignment with Nigeria’s immediate needs. It does not demand an abrupt halt to oil production, which remains an economic lifeline, but rather insists on stopping the catastrophic waste of a complementary resource. Sparking a new industry in gas processing and distribution would create a wave of technical and entrepreneurial jobs. Most importantly, it solves a real and urgent problem for citizens and industries alike. The captured gas can be used to power factories and vehicles, providing a cleaner, cheaper alternative to diesel and directly improving the health and economic prospects of those who have suffered in the shadow of the flares for generations. Ultimately, extinguishing these flares would be more than a climate victory; it would be a powerful symbol that Nigeria is finally ready to stop wasting its future and start building it.

This Post was submitted by Climate Scorecard Nigeria Country Manager, Michael Johnson.

Edited by Diana Gastelum.