“A national disgrace, a moral calamity, and a betrayal of the promise we owe our youth.” Those were the words of the National Association of Polytechnic Students (NAPS), condemning the tragic event where Nigerian students wrote their final WAEC exams late into the night using candles and flashlights. The year was 2025.

 

This haunting image forces us to confront an uncomfortable question: How did a country as rich as Nigeria get here? A land brimming with oil and gas, exporting electricity yet importing generators, now finds its youth studying by candlelight. Our earth bleeds wealth into tankers and cargo holds, while our homes flicker and fade into darkness. Nigeria holds an estimated 37 billion barrels of oil reserves, exports approximately 7 million barrels per day, and earned around $45 billion as of 2023. Yet, 43% of Nigerians live in multidimensional poverty, and hospitals and schools frequently endure power outages.

 

This is not just a Nigerian issue. Across Africa, nations endowed with abundant natural resources watch their citizens suffer energy poverty, environmental degradation, and economic disparity.

 

From the gas flares of the Niger Delta to cobalt mines in the DRC, where miners use rudimentary tools and die in unsafe tunnels, to gold and copper reserves in Ghana and Zambia while local power grids collapse—Africa is not just rich, it is overflowing. Yet, as the International Energy Agency (2023) notes, “While the world’s economies benefit from Africa’s resources, millions of Africans remain in the shadows.”

 

Nigeria, DRC, South Africa, Ghana, Zambia, Tanzania—each holds resources critical to the global economy: oil, cobalt, coal, platinum, gold, copper, lithium. The sun scorches the Sahara, offering unmatched solar potential. Yet, Africa generates less than 2% of global solar power. This is not a problem of scarcity but of systems.

 

Having resources is not enough. We must design systems that deliver value back to our people. Education is said to be the key, but as many Africans quip, “the government has changed the locks.”

 

This crisis is not accidental. It is the result of a colonial economic design that prioritized extraction over development. Infrastructure was built to serve exports: railways that bypass towns, roads that lead to ports, energy plants that power factories, not homes. After independence, foreign multinationals replaced colonial administrators, but the blueprint remained. Resource rights are sold for quick cash, infrastructure still serves export goals, not people.

 

Consider the “Angola Model,” where oil exports were collateralized for Chinese loans. Roads and airports emerged, but little of this reached marginalized communities or created sustainable energy access.

 

As PLO Lumumba once said, “African politics needs to be a competition of ideas, not of deep pockets.” Yet, political elites negotiate deals that enrich themselves, while profits from Africa’s wealth are repatriated abroad through creative accounting and tax evasion.

 

Even when revenues enter national accounts, they are often lost to corruption or debt repayment. They rarely reach local energy infrastructure or displaced communities. Oil spills in the Niger Delta and child labor in DRC’s cobalt mines tell the true cost of Africa’s role in the global green transition: sacrificial supplier, not equal partner.

 

The time is June 2024. Egypt, a major gas producer, suffered domestic energy mismanagement that disrupted critical national exams. Over 745,000 students prepared for their finals amid rolling blackouts and extreme heat. Makeshift study halls powered by generators became the norm.

 

Between 2012 and 2016, Ghana experienced “Dumsor” — widespread rolling blackouts. In 2014 alone, Ghana lost $1 billion in GDP. Hospitals, including oxygen-dependent wards, failed; a mother and her unborn child died in 2016 due to a blackout. Schools and universities suffered educational losses.

 

In late 2023, South African students wrote matric exams in darkness due to Eskom’s load-shedding. In Zanzibar, between 2008 and 2010, months-long blackouts crippled tourism, closed schools, and shut down small businesses. Every data point represents a life left in the dark.

 

These events reveal a disturbing truth: resource wealth does not translate into public good when governance fails.

 

In 2022, sub-Saharan Africa exported over $500 billion worth of natural resources. Yet UNCTAD reports $88.6 billion lost annually to illicit financial flows and under-invoicing. In the DRC, over 70% of the world’s cobalt is mined, often by children using hand tools. Some work 38 hours a week for less than $2 per day. Women suffer reproductive health issues from contaminated water. Industrial miners barely earn a living wage.

 

Niger is among the top 5 uranium producers globally, yet rural electrification remains below 20%. Its uranium powers a third of France’s nuclear grid, while its own communities remain in the dark.

 

The same pattern repeats: extraction by foreign firms, processing abroad, profits offshored. Africa bears the environmental burden—from over 1,000 oil spills in the Niger Delta to deforestation and child labor in DRC, and displaced communities in Madagascar due to rare earth mining.

 

Each decade tells the same story. In the last ten years, Nigeria’s grid collapsed repeatedly, costing $29 billion annually. South Africa’s Eskom enforced multi-stage load-shedding. The EACOP pipeline in Uganda and Tanzania faced protests over environmental and social costs.

 

From 2005–2015, Ghana lost $1 billion due to Dumsor. Cameroon enjoyed an oil boom but failed to extend electrification. South Africa halted power exports during infrastructure failures. Earlier, in 1995–2005, Zimbabwe and Egypt faced prolonged outages due to neglected infrastructure despite resource abundance.

 

This is not just failure; it is engineered inequality.

 

Africa must no longer be a fuel stop for foreign progress. It must become the driver of its own future. That requires rewriting contracts, investing in domestic infrastructure, and holding leaders accountable.

 

We need ring-fenced energy budgets for public services, decentralized renewables, improved infrastructure maintenance, subsidized tariffs for public institutions, and transparent governance. Prioritize domestic use. Mandate corporate responsibility.

 

True justice begins with reclaiming control.

 

We must design better systems, not just demand better deals. The future must be powered by policy, protected by vision, and owned by our people.

 

Until then, we will remain the richest poor people—powering the world, yet powerless at home.

 

Africa is not poor. It is plundered.

 

And the true meaning of power lies in who gets to decide.

 

Let the next chapter be one where we generate for ourselves and give to the world only after we have had enough.