Africa’s richest man, Aliko Dangote, often comes across as mild-mannered and personable. But you don’t become a billionaire and stay ahead of the chasing pack by being sentimental. On the contrary, most businessmen in his class are ruthless in taking decisions to protect their interests. It is not for nothing that through the years he’s battled to stave off accusations of being monopolistic in disposition.
But say what you like about the man, you cannot deny that he’s a visionary given to outlandish dreams. One of such is the 650,000 barrels per day refinery which was first announced in 2013 but didn’t start production until September 2024. The facility was originally supposed to be completed between 2018 and 2020, but the COVID-19 pandemic and other logistical challenges ensured this goal wasn’t met.
Although, one man’s outsize dream the facility has become intertwined with Nigeria’s economic future. A nation rich in oil and gas has for decades suffered from non-existent local refining capacity – leaving it at the mercy of an army of importers of all manner of petroleum products. Conspiracy theorists even say that the demobilisation of the nation’s four refineries is a function of consistent sabotage on the part of those whose interests are helped by sustaining the regime of importation.
Different estimates put the amount Nigeria has spent on turnaround maintenance of the government-owned refineries in Port Harcourt, Warri and Kaduna – from 2000 to 2024 – at between $18 billion and $25 billion. Despite sinking this fortune into what are increasingly looking like expensive junkyards, there’s no hope in sight that production would start on a consistent basis in any of them soon.
So, when an enterprising individual pulled off what a whole nation and successive administrations couldn’t deliver he was celebrated as a hero. Dangote has harped on the fact that his facility has the capacity to meet the petrol needs on the entire West African sub-region. In other words, there was no need for further importation.
His position was seen in certain quarters as self-serving. After all, a man who had poured $20 billion into a project would be desperate to recoup his investment and pay off loans.
Before the coming of his behemoth, there were players in that space who also invested heavily in tank farms, trucks and other assets. The coming of this massive refinery was bound to disrupt their businesses as it is also doing to markets across the world from which Nigerian and other African importers hitherto sourced products. Surely, they would be less than enthused about something that was bound to put them out of business sooner than later.
What would follow the take-off of Dangote Refinery was an early dispute with the regulator, Nigerian Midstream and Downstream Petroleum Regulatory Authority (NMDPRA, on the refinery’s preparedness and product quality. Mediatory meetings temporarily pushed this row to the back burner.
The battle would soon turn to the fact that the authorities still left the gates wide open for all manner of importers despite the presence of the infant facility that could supposedly meet local consumption.
Conscious not to be seen as enthroning a monopoly, and also worried as to whether Dangote could actually cover Nigeria’s local requirements despite his claims, the government never imposed any ban on importation.
Perhaps to show that it was truly in favour of empowering local refiners, the administration briefly toyed with the idea of a 15% levy on imported petroleum products. The idea was quickly shelved in mid-November, leaving the status quo in place. Whether this was done to please importers or just to ensure that a competitive edge remained in the market is anybody’s guess.
Clearly, the situation wasn’t pleasing to all players – Dangote being one of them. Things boiled over on Sunday with the billionaire businessman levelling a series of grave allegations against NMDPRA and its chief executive officer, Farouk Ahmed.
He accused the agency of undermining his refinery, sabotaging the economy and urged the government to probe its activities.
He claimed NMDPRA’s leadership was colluding with international traders and oil importers to frustrate local refining through the continued issuance of import licences for petroleum products.
Stating that Ahmed had been living above his means, he pointedly alleged that the public office holder had spent $5 million training four of his children in posh schools in Switzerland. Dangote said the bills being picked by the NMDPRA boss raised serious questions about potential conflicts of interest and the integrity of regulatory oversight in the downstream petroleum sector. It was akin to detonating an improvised explosive device (IED).
Just yesterday, he followed up with a full page advert in major newspapers which he personally signed, doubling down on the corruption allegations against Ahmed. In a further escalation, a petition has now been filed with the Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC) calling for the investigation, arrest and prosecution of the NMDPRA boss for living above his means.
These are very serious allegations made by no ordinary whistle-blower. The shockwaves have swept through the oil industry and government circles. Already, the House of Representatives has plunged headlong into the matter, vowing an investigation.
Curiously, while Dangote has been hurling devastating missiles in his direction, the silence from Ahmed and the NMDPRA has been uncomfortably loud. These are very grave allegations against a senior government regulator by the country’s preeminent business figure. The dispute is playing out before local and international audiences. That’s why silence isn’t an option. Those being accused should either rebut the charges with facts or confront the implications of what’s been said.
Not too long ago, the erstwhile Minister of Innovation, Science and Technology, Uche Nnaji, found himself in the eye of a storm over claims he lied about graduating from the University of Nigeria, Nsukka. For days the scandal raged. The minister tried unconvincingly to respond to the allegation but was forced to step aside when the matter became an embarrassing distraction for the administration.
The dispute between Dangote, the NMDPRA and its boss isn’t going away soon given that the accuser has plumped for the nuclear option. His allegation that regulatory actions are being deployed in ways that undermine his refinery while protecting entrenched interests in fuel importation is not a casual complaint about red tape. It is an accusation of regulatory distortion – one that questions the integrity of institutions created under the Petroleum Industry Act (PIA).
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The danger of government silence in moments like this cannot be overstated. In countries with strong institutions, allegations against regulators trigger one of two responses: a public defence backed by evidence, or a transparent inquiry.
Silence won’t stop the raging debate. Instead, it hands it over to the loudest and most powerful voices. The nation’s reputation is also not helped by such unresolved accusations.
Dangote’s allegations, whether true or false, shape perception simply by being made. Silence allows those perceptions to calcify. If he is right and no investigation follows, it confirms the suspicions Nigerians hold about regulatory capture and protection of rent-seeking interests.
This episode also tests the credibility of the PIA itself. It was sold as a clean break from opaque oil governance – a framework designed to professionalise regulation and insulate it from informal power. Allowing one of its flagship institutions to be publicly splattered with mud without response undermines that promise more effectively than any hostile foreign report could.
Nigeria’s real problem is not conflict between powerful actors. It is the state’s regular reluctance to arbitrate such conflicts openly. Too often, elite disputes are sorted out quietly through political “settlements” that produce temporary calm while leaving institutions weaker and public trust eroded. That path may defuse tension, but it poisons reform.
This is why the temptation to frame the current fight solely as Dangote versus Ahmed must be resisted. The issue goes beyond personality; it is process. Does Nigeria have regulators who can enforce rules transparently? Is government willing to defend its institutions publicly – or discipline them when necessary?
Demanding a response is not asking for capitulation. Dangote does not deserve special treatment because of his wealth or size and usefulness of his refinery to the country. But neither does any regulator deserve immunity from scrutiny. Accountability cuts both ways, and credibility is earned through openness.
Dangote has spoken. Serious allegations are now in the public domain. The government must decide whether it believes in the institutional order it has built. It must move swiftly to get to the root of this oily wrestling match between two Sumo wrestlers.
