In Nigeria, where the sizzle of Jollof Rice and the aroma of Egusi soup are the fabric of daily life, the price of cooking gas has become a silent scourge, stealing joy from kitchens and straining wallets. For millions, the cost of Liquefied Petroleum Gas (cooking gas) dictates whether a family eats a warm meal or scrapes by with cold leftovers.
Into this fray steps Aliko Dangote, Africa’s industrial colossus, whose Lekki refinery promises to crash the price of cooking gas, offering relief to a nation gasping under the weight of energy poverty.
Yet, his bold move has ignited a firestorm, with gas marketers protesting, their voices rising like a chorus of indignation. As the battle lines are drawn, a pressing question emerges: who are the real enemies of the masses in this saga?
Dangote’s vision is as audacious as it is transformative. His 650,000-barrel-per-day refinery, a gleaming testament to Nigerian ambition, is poised to flood the market with affordable LPG, slashing costs that have long burdened households.
The numbers however paint a grim picture. In 2024, the average price of a 12.5kg cylinder of cooking gas soared to over N14,000 in some regions, a 70 per cent spike from the previous year, according to the National Bureau of Statistics. For low-income families, this is not just a price hike—it’s a choice between cooking and paying school fees.
Dangote’s plan to sell directly to consumers, bypassing layers of middlemen, threatens to upend a market riddled with inefficiencies. His refinery could supply up to 5 million tonnes of LPG annually, potentially meeting Nigeria’s entire demand and more, while driving prices down to levels unseen in years.This move is more than economic—it’s a public health imperative.
The World Health Organization estimates that over 95,000 Nigerians die annually from indoor air pollution caused by reliance on firewood and kerosene, fuels that choke lungs and darken futures.
By making LPG affordable, Dangote could light a path to cleaner, safer kitchens, reducing the health burden on women and children who bear the brunt of toxic smoke. His strategy is a clarion call to reimagine a Nigeria where energy access is a right, not a privilege.
But the Nigerian Association of Liquefied Petroleum Gas Marketers (NALPGAM) has sounded the alarm, branding Dangote’s move as a monopolistic threat. They argue that his dominance risks strangling their businesses, accusing him of wielding his industrial might to corner the market. Their protests, however, ring hollow against the backdrop of a system that has long failed the masses.
For years, Nigerians have endured a market plagued by forex volatility, inadequate storage infrastructure, and a labyrinth of distributors who inflate prices at every turn. The average marketer’s margin, while slim, compounds into exorbitant costs for consumers.
Dangote’s direct-to-consumer model challenges this status quo, threatening profits built on the backs of struggling households. But who are the real enemies of the masses? Is it the man leveraging his refinery to ease the burden of energy poverty, or the marketers clinging to a broken system that keeps cooking gas out of reach for many?
The marketers’ resistance smacks of self-preservation, not public interest. Their claim that Dangote’s pricing is “unrealistic” ignores the potential for a larger market where affordability drives demand. Dangote has invited collaboration, not confrontation, emphasizing that a growing LPG market could benefit all players. Yet, the marketers’ reluctance to adapt suggests a deeper fear: losing control over a lucrative but inequitable status quo.
This is not to say Dangote’s approach is flawless. His critics raise valid concerns about monopolistic tendencies. A single player dominating the LPG market could stifle competition, potentially leading to price manipulation down the line. Regulatory oversight will be crucial to ensure his ambitions don’t morph into unchecked control.
Still, when weighed against a system that forces families to choose between firewood and starvation, Dangote’s disruption feels less like a threat and more like a lifeline. The masses deserve a champion in this price war. For too long, Nigeria’s energy market has been a rigged game, where the poor pay the highest price.
Dangote’s move challenges a cycle of exploitation that has gone unchallenged for decades. The real enemies of the masses are not those who dare to disrupt the market’s excesses, but those who profit from its brokenness. As Nigeria stands at this crossroads, let us rally for a future where cooking gas fuels homes, not controversies, and where the warmth of a kitchen is a right afforded to all.
Ayomide Oriade, a Communication Strategist, writes from Lagos