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  • The year 2024 was such a wild year, and in many ways, many Nigerians feel like they’re absolutely different people than they were at the start of the year. No, we are not Spotify, but we’ve made you a list of the craziness that shaped your year in case you forgot.

    Band A, Band B, freezer drama

    The thing about this particular event was that it happened so close to April Fool’s Day, it almost seemed like a dumb prank because many Nigerians were on different social media platforms saying “ain’t no way” in different forms immediately after the news dropped.

    On April 3, the Nigerian Electricity Regulatory Commission (NERC) announced it was going to increase the electricity tariff on Band A feeders by 230.8%. The implication of their announcement was that Band A customers would be billed ₦225 per kilowatt hour (kWh) instead of the ₦68 per kWh they were being charged.

    NERC said they were introducing the increase to reduce the burden of the electricity subsidy the government was paying.  According to them, FG was going to spend an estimated 3.13 trillion on subsidising electricity in 2024, but with the increment of tariff price for Band A customers (who enjoy up to 20 hours of electricity), the government’s payment would be reduced by 63.58%, making the amount they’d pay to be ₦1.14 trillion.

    Nigerians were so livid about this because the economy was already showing everyone pepper due to the removal of fuel subsidies. As if this wasn’t painful enough, less than 24 hours after the announcement, the Minister of Power, Adebayo Adelabu told Nigerians to start turning off their freezers once in a while if they want Nigeria’s power issue to get better.

    Fuel scarcity

    Nigeria experienced fuel scarcity at different points of the year, but in April 2024, the fuel queues in different parts of the country became too long. People complained about this on the streets and on social media platforms, but that was all they could do because the NNPCL was busy arguing with the Independent Petroleum Marketers of Nigeria (PETROAN) over whose fault it was that there was no fuel. The scarcity lasted way into May, but you know what they say about Nigerians and the survival spirit.

    Mass marriage of orphan girls

    Nigerians were still being crushed under the weight of the fuel scarcity when a lawmaker dropped his own shocker. On May 10, Speaker of the Niger State Assembly, Abdulmalik Sarkindaji, decided that marrying off 100 girls orphaned by banditry attacks in the Mariga Local Government Area of Niger State was a genius idea that would help alleviate the poverty the girls were suffering.

    Sarkindaji’s Plan was met with criticism from different quarters; one of the most promising pushback was from the former Ministry of Women Affairs, Uju Kennedy Ohanenye, but Nigerians barely got the opportunity to dance in celebration before she grabbed an invisible mic and yelled sike! In our faces— after some back and forth, Uju backtracked, saying, “I did not intend to stop the marriage but to ensure the girls are of marriageable age and were not being forced into it.” On Friday, May 24, two weeks later, all 100 of the girls were married off in separate ceremonies.

    Minimum wage gbas-gbos

    No thanks to the five-year Minimum Wage Act (of 2019), Nigerian workers were paid ₦30,000 minimum wage, but the Nigerian Labour Congress (NLC) could hardly do much about it. Following the expiration of the Act in April 2024, the NLC said it was time for a review because the ₦30,000 was barely going anywhere for workers.

    NLC demanded 615,000 from the Federal Government (FG), but FG said they didn’t have it, and both parties entered a boxing match that lasted from April to July when they finally settled on ₦70,000 which has now been passed into law as the country’s official minimum wage.

    National anthem change

    In May, Nigerians realised that surprises might be one of President Tinubu’s love (or torture) languages because his last surprise announcement (fuel subsidy removal) was still showing Nigerians shege but just in time for the commemoration of his one year in office, the President pulled out another shiny surprise from his pocket— a new national anthem.

    The bill legalising the anthem change was an even bigger shocker because it literally came out of nowhere. For context, this bill was passed in one week—the House of Representatives debated it on Thursday, May 23, and passed it on the same day. Then, it was handed over to the Senate, which passed it on Tuesday, May 27, while President Tinubu signed it into law the following day, Wednesday.

    Dangote rants

    Before now, Billionaire businessman Aliko Dangote was on that laidback mysterious aesthetic but after the astronomical levels of shege Nigeria showed him in 2024, he has now left that aesthetic for Beyonce.

    Dangote had plenty of back and forth with oil institutions and officials this year, but it all mostly began with him coming out to raise the alarm about alleged plots to sabotage his new refinery. Dangote said that the  Nigerian National Petroleum Company Limited (NNPC) and the International Oil Companies (IOCs) refused to sell him the crude oil needed to start production at his refinery, so he had to go all the way to the United States (US) to buy some. 

    As if that wasn’t enough stress for him, the CEO of Nigerian Midstream and Downstream Petroleum Regulatory Authority (NMDPRA), Farouk Ahmed alleged that Dangote’s oil was substandard and that the imported ones were better than it. Alhaji was stressed but had to pick up a mic to debunk the claim. He also had another spat with the NNPC over the petrol pricing as well as other side frustrations surrounding his refinery. It’s just been a hell of a year for Alhaji, and we all sort of went through it with him.

    National asoebi

    Albert Einstein shakes when Nigeria’s First Lady enters the conversation because only she can rival his genius. This year. Remi Tinubu spiced up our lives with her bright innovations; after starting her own garden and telling Nigerians to do the same (“to boost food production”), she launched an Asoebi for the country.

    The asoebi  (or national unity fabric if you’re fancy) was launched ahead of Nigeria’s independence day in order to help Nigerian citizens “break down tribal barriers to identify as a people of one nation.”

    She didn’t just launch with an empty hand, either. The unity fabric was rolled out with a Fabric Designs Competition with a ₦25m prize money. We stan an innovative queen.

    Hunger protests

    2024 has been an especially hard year for Nigerians. What was even more frustrating was that the government seemed not to be listening. In August, Nigerians trooped out to make their voices heard through the #EndBadGovernance or hunger protests.

    But the 10-day protests, shadowed by subtle threats even before they started, did not end well as protesters were met with brutal force by the Nigerian Police. Later, on November 28, Amnesty International released a report revealing that at least 24 protesters were killed as a result of this force. Amnesty International said that “in all cases, the victims were shot by the police, firing live ammunition at close range often at the head or torso, suggesting that officers were shooting to kill.

    Cabinet reshuffle

    On Wednesday, October 23, President Bola Tinubu shook the internet when he surprised everyone and announced his cabinet reshuffle. The reshuffle involved the sacking of five ministers from his record-high 45-member cabinet, hiring of seven new ministers, and reassignment of ten others to new positions.

    This move got Nigerians talking, with some saying not enough ministers were sacked and others saying the President should have included his own name in the list of sacked people.

    Arrest of minors

    Another thing the government did this year was show Nigerians it wasn’t above manhandling kids as much as it did adults. On Friday, November 1, the Inspector General of Police arraigned about 72 minors at a Federal High Court in Abuja on ten-count charges over their participation in the #EndBadGovernance protests of August. The minors, who had been detained for three months, were accused of treason and trying to destabilise Nigeria, among other things. But after many Nigerians and Civil Rights Organisations (CSOs) condemned the government and pointed out that it was against several laws to detain minors in the way that they did, President Tinubu ordered that they be released, and a committee set up to look into the arrest and detention of the minors.

  • Falz’s fourth studio album leaves little to the imagination.

    The lead and only single, Talk is Falz pointing fingers as he runs through Nigeria’s most salient problems.

    On the day it was released to a social media frenzy, Falz also shared the album jacket, designed by Lemi Ghariokwu, most known for his work for Fela Kuti.

    He is also featured on the album. The title, however, gives it all away.

    If the album’s title “Moral Instruction” suggest a pious class on Nigeria’s woes and how we’re responsible for the mess we find ourselves in, that’s because it is.

    By now, such social commentary is not unexpected from Falz.

    You’d have to go as far back as his debut “Wazup Guy” to find what could well count as his first politically-charged song.

    On “How Far” featuring Sir Dauda, Falz manages to express genuine shock that the same people have been at the country’s helm for generations.

    He then goes on–”They say we go write the future, them no give us pen/Give it up for VIPs, them be our problem/Vagabonds in power, as Fela called them“.

    In the years since, Falz has come to embrace commentary and offer his own two cents–most notably on “This is Nigeria”–on issues of cultural and social relevance.

    “Moral Instruction” comes at a time where he is a forerunner in the conversation about activist musicians and a new Fela.

    It is only fitting then that the album’s opener “Johnny” is led by a boisterous sample of Fela Kuti’s “Johnny Just Drop”.

    The story of a young graduate shot by an insecure, trigger-happy police officer is all too familiar to the average Nigerian.

    Stellar production by TMXO puts the song at a confluence – Falz’s delivery assures you that this is hip-hop, yet there is that indisputable bounce on the guitar that makes you want to swing and lose yourself.

    But there is nothing to swing to. This is, at its core, a sad song.

    On the first verse, Falz makes references to the seemingly endless violence in Jos–“Dem kill am for Jos for no just cause/nobody fit comot for house, who born us?“.

    He proceeds to narrate the moment when Johnny dies – “una don run go chop, Oya give me my own share/before them talk one, he say ‘shut up!’/who dash you liver/talk small, I go cock gun/small time, e don pull trigger”.

    It is in moments like this, when Falz passionately addresses the violent inanities and the lack of decorum that have become part of life in Nigeria, that the album works best.

    On “Talk”, he points the finger at the usual suspects – politicians, religious leaders, the regular man and his apathy as reasons for the state of the nation.  

    “Amen” is where he comes the men at the helm of wealthy religious institutions whom he sees as jet-setting swindlers selling hope for donations and Sunday offering.

    “Take our offering set up uni/and your church members no fit afford the school fees” is a line that should incite some conversations in a few Alumni Whatsapp groups.

    In an industry helmed by flamboyant stars making assembly-line pop music, Falz is eager to be seen as the one directly addressing issues we have grown numb to.

    It is as he emphasises at he ends “Talk” with one final confession–”na me talk am”.

    It is when this eagerness veers into contentious territory, that Falz’s brand of activism becomes problematic.

    This brand of moral instruction turns a familiar chapter on “Talk”–where he continues a pattern of berating sex work with the lines–”Instead make you work, you dey find Alhaji/Eh eh, you dey find Alhaji/You come turn your body to cash and carry/Eh eh cash and carry“.

    His insistence on addressing sex work as an immoral symptom of greed has drawn criticism.

    But the outrage became much louder after journalist Joey Akan posted a video of him explaining his distaste for ‘transactional sex’ (amidst several questionable uses of the term “feminist”) at his listening party–which is being interpreted as a sense of entitlement to women’s bodies.

    The problem with using morality as a lens is that it is entirely subjective and constantly evolving.

    Our ideas of good and bad overlap at obvious points –bad governance, corruption, murder–but at others, holding one’s beliefs over another’s can reek of self-righteousness.

    Unlike his appraisal of religion, Falz’s personal opinion about sex work refuses to explain how it sits in the larger context of societal ills and the sorry state of our nation.

    The reality of sex work in Nigeria, more often than not, is the result of too many social factors.

    Falz addresses some of them but others, like simple choice and outdated laws are beyond his scope on the album.

    However one may feel about ‘transactional sex’ though, we cannot strip people of their right over their own bodies.

    Falz’s approach is problematic – but not fatal.

    That’s because “Moral Instruction” and the incisive political critique it pulls off is held together by some very good music.

    Trap meets Fela’s disruptive energy on “Follow Follow” via a sample of the classic “Zombie”.

    The result is a song that has the potential to distract you from the fact that 30 years after, we, not soldiers, are the zombies here.

    “Amen” is as rich as red velvet cake. It is led by a poignant sample of Fela’s “Coffin For Head of State”, and thickened with excerpts from interviews and Falz at his most lyrical in years.

    In an important election year, Falz’s moral instruction is a reminder that we have become all too comfortable in this dysfunctional society we’ve made for ourselves.

    At its best, it is militant and demanding. At its most controversial, it is another’s can and nearly disappointing.

    For everything he does to address our collective apathy, his choice to point fingers at perceived wrongdoers on the basis of his own opinion feels like an easy way out.

    To his credit, Falz seems to acknowledge this on the album’s final track where he says “After all is said and done/I do not have the right to direct the finger of guilt or the look of contempt at my guy/for even I can barely see through the speck in my eye” but it’s a little late.

    It is almost a given that this album will be defined by the nuance in the conversations it has and inspires.

    It makes the album more apt for the times than we could have guessed.

    The curse of morality is that even though we all agree certain things are wrong, no-one, not even Falz or the funky ghost of Fela’s activism is ever absolutely right.