A little over a week ago, streaming service provider, Netflix, announced a subscription hike, the third within a year. With the announcement, Netflix’s Premium plan climbed to N8,500 a month from N7,000. The Standard plan moved to N6,500 from N5,500, while the Basic plan rose to N4,000 from N3,500. The Mobile plan became N2,500, up from N2,200. The curious (perhaps not exactly curious) thing is that there was no outcry or subscriber outrage. The Federal Competition and Consumer Protection Commission (FCCPC), which carried on like a pit bull until early last month when a court ruling knocked the stuffing out of it, has become one of those playful sitting room dog breeds.
It may be tempting to think that it was the court ruling that put it on a leash. That, however, would be wrong. It has never been interested in price reviews by other businesses in whatever sector. Contrast that with the public circus that traditionally kicks off whenever MultiChoice, operators of DStv and GOtv, announce price changes. In February, when MutiChoice announced its most recent price adjustments, which took effect on 1 March, the FCCPC almost suffered a stroke caused by rage at what it described as the exploitation of Nigerians.
It tried to block the increases and threatened a bouquet of administrative sanctions if its instructions were not heeded. MultiChoice went to court. On 8 May, the recent Federal High Court ruling made it clear: the FCCPC lacks the authority to intervene in pricing decisions of businesses because the country is a free enterprise space.
The court observed that only the President can regulate prices by law and that any such delegation must be gazetted. In stripping the FCCPC of its claim to set MultiChoice’s fees, the judge also pointed out that price controls, if ever warranted, should apply to an entire industry rather than being wielded like a cudgel against one company. As John Oladapo remarked on X, “While FCCPC painted the case like a win because it was struck out for ‘abuse of court process,’ it wasn’t a win. The court went a step further to insinuate that the FCCPC was after certain industry players and that regulation should be industry-wide, not picking on a specific player.”
The irony is hard to ignore. Telecoms giants such as MTN and Airtel hiked their data and voice-call plans by 50 per cent. Global FMCGs like Coca-Cola and Nigerian Breweries have upped prices repeatedly over the past 18 months. Even essential services such as BRT bus fares, train tickets, and passport renewal fees have gone up, often with little to no public backlash or regulatory intervention.
Yet, whenever MultiChoice reviews its subscription packages, packages that remain among the most affordable in Africa, the company is front-page news, vilified as though it alone should bear the burden of of the worsening business conditions in the country.
To be clear, MultiChoice does not set its pricing in a vacuum. Every channel on DStv and GOtv, from live European football to Hollywood blockbusters, must be licensed for millions of dollars in foreign currency. Those who think the pay television space equals life on the beach should at the fate that recently befell iROKOtv. Once hailed as “Nigeria’s own Netflix,” iROKOtv spent over $100 million trying to build a streaming service exclusively with Nigerian content. Despite initial enthusiasm and heavy external funding, it ultimately shuttered. its operations in Nigeria, citing a market unwilling to pay for subscriptions. If a Nigerian platform cannot sustain itself on local subscriptions alone, what chance does a company relying on licensed content priced in dollars have? Yet iROKOtv’s exit barely merited a footnote in the regulatory debate.
Now, letus dive into the heart of the matter: selective enforcement. The FCCPC’s posturing over DStv’s rate adjustment has been nothing short of hypocritical. Last year, the Nigerian Passport Service raised application and renewal fees with barely a whisper from consumer rights watchdogs. Meanwhile, fuel stations are free to raise petrol prices; electricity tariffs, prices of medications, food items and other household needs have soared unchecked. Private educational institutions are raising fees as they deem fit.
The FCCPC considers those needs inferior to that of watching pay television provided by MultiChoice. Singling out MultiChoice ignores the fundamental economic logic at play: when inflation consistently exceeds 30 per cent, the naira hovers around N1,600 to the dollar, and operational costs, studio productions, satellite transponders, transmission towers, skyrocket, no business can hold prices steady indefinitely. The court ruling was more than a procedural victory; it was a rebuke to the practice of regulatory bullying, which punishes just one business and head-rubs the others.
Nigeria is not Soviet Union 2.0, where strict price regulation inherited from the communist era can be at play. Blanket, arbitrary investigations do little to foster investor confidence; they simply encourage companies to consider exit strategies, just as Netflix has quietly moved many of its headquarters functions out of Lagos, and just as the last iROKOtv executive chronicled in her memoir that “the moment you become a lone target, you start slipping out the back door.”
Let us not pretend that price reviews are somehow unique to pay-TV. The moment Nigerians accept that a free market exists only for some participants, and only when regulators choose to intervene in a theatrically selective fashion, is the moment we consign ourselves to perpetual economic theatre. If the cost of a DStv Premium bouquet, still the lowest among African multichannel operators, represents exploitation, what should we call the 33% petrol bump? Or the 70% rise in local rice prices in 18 months? A consumer-advocacy board that demands justice for one and silence for many forfeits its credibility.
The Federal High Court ruling should serve as a rallying cry: no single company may be scapegoated for broader inflationary pressures. While the FCCPC’s statement triumphantly declared a victory, the real takeaway is that targeting one player undermines trust in the entire regulatory framework. Rather than pontificating from press releases, the commission must shift to measured, transparent investigations across all sectors, ensuring that any decision to challenge price adjustments is grounded in economic data and a true demonstration of monopoly power, not in the optics of populist outrage.
Nigerians deserve equal treatment under the law. If the FCCPC is truly concerned about predatory pricing, it must first show that any company, be it StarTimes, Netflix, or even petrol retailers, holds a dominant position that harms consumer welfare. Until then, we must guard against regulatory grandstanding that punishes the visible and spares the rest. Because if the choice is between a free-market status quo and an unpredictable “anything goes” attitude toward price controls, the verdict is clear: allow businesses the room to operate, innovate, and, yes, adjust their fees when the macroeconomic winds blow cold. A measured, industry-wide approach will fare far better than ritual humiliations aimed solely at MultiChoice.