Nigeria is Africa's biggest oil producer. Its citizens eye a different future.
| Zing, Nigeria
Tasiu Umar had a problem. The power in his cellphone repair shop was constantly going out. The clanking, wheezing generators he used as a stopgap guzzled fuel and constantly broke down, gnawing into his profits. 鈥淚 spent more time fixing the generator than fixing phones,鈥� he says, laughing.
Then, a year ago, a former boss suggested he buy a couple of solar panels. He did, and business boomed.
Though Mr. Umar didn鈥檛 know it, he switched to solar at a moment that many view as a turning point in global energy history. As solar panels have become more affordable, the world鈥檚 use of solar power has nearly tripled in the past three years. The International Energy Agency predicts that by 2035, solar will be the world鈥檚 No. 1 source of energy.
Why We Wrote This
The world's use of solar power is growing at an unprecedented rate. That's good news for the planet, but in many countries, this boom isn't environmentally motivated. In Nigeria, for instance, solar is simply more reliable 鈥� and increasingly more affordable, too.
The shift to solar suggests a revolutionary possibility for countries like Nigeria: the chance to industrialize and grow without following the high-emissions path that has worsened global warming.
This represents a massive change, both in the source of electricity, and in who can generate and use it. Because solar power can be produced anywhere, by anyone with a solar panel, 鈥渋t gives power directly to people,鈥� says Femi Oye, co-founder of OneWattSolar and an advocate for solar power in Nigeria.
Keeping the lights on
Nigeria is a stark example of how transformative that shift in power could be.
As Africa鈥檚 top oil and gas producer, the country is rich in the very fossil fuels that have traditionally kept the world鈥檚 lights on. But its power infrastructure is in shambles. Some 40% of the country鈥檚 230 million people are not even connected to the national grid. And those who do have a connection are hardly better off. In 2024, the national grid collapsed .
Unreliable electricity has profound here. Clinics struggle to keep lights on and equipment running, so vaccines spoil and fewer women get medical care during their pregnancies than in neighboring countries. Without electricity to provide light in the evenings, students in Nigerian boarding schools study about half as much as their peers in China. And farmers lose enough food to feed millions of people each year, simply because they have no way to keep their products cool on the way to market. Overall, the World Bank estimates that unreliable electricity costs the Nigerian economy about annually.
To fill the gaps, Nigerians like Mr. Umar have long relied on diesel and petrol generators that roar day and night, spewing thick fumes. Nigerians spend $14 billion annually on running these belching machines, which in the city of Lagos alone release the equivalent of of CO鈧� each year 鈥� as much as about 8.5 million cars.
Globally, those figures are small change. And as a continent, Africa accounts for less than 4% of the world鈥檚 emissions. But its population is growing rapidly, creating increased pressure for development 鈥� and the energy that powers it. Between 1990 and 2018, fossil-fuel related greenhouse gas emissions grew more than twice as fast in Africa as in the rest of the world.
The owners of Nigeria鈥檚 generators are also buffeted by forces beyond their control. In Nigeria, like much of the world, power 鈥� that is, energy 鈥� and power 鈥� that is, authority 鈥� have long been impossible to disentangle. The struggle over Nigeria鈥檚 oil and gas supply has launched civil wars, propped up dictatorships, and fueled coup d鈥檈tats. Despite the vast energy wealth all around them, most Nigerians are both energy and cash poor.
Solar, by contrast, is nearly impossible to hoard, and the barriers to access are personal, rather than political. It doesn鈥檛 matter 鈥渨hether or not the grid reaches [someone鈥檚] village,鈥� Mr. Oye notes. All that matters is that they can buy solar panels, something that is becoming dramatically easier. In 2023, the price of solar panels from China 鈥� where most of the world鈥檚 supply originates 鈥� .
That year, African countries imported as many solar panels as they had the year before. In the last year, they have grown .
A DIY revolution
That boom has been led by South Africa, where households and businesses have gone DIY on energy as their national grid buckles. As in Pakistan 鈥� where individuals armed with TikTok 鈥渉ow-to鈥� videos installed half the national grid capacity in solar panels last year alone 鈥� most of South Africa鈥檚 solar revolution has been bottom-up. Privately installed rooftop solar panels now generate more than energy as the national grid does.
That mirrors a wider trend. Two-thirds of new solar installations in Africa . In Nigeria 鈥� now Africa鈥檚 second largest importer of Chinese solar panels 鈥� privately installed solar 鈥渋s quietly becoming the backbone鈥� of many businesses, Mr. Oye says.
While farmers with better irrigation and small businesses like Mr. Umar鈥檚 cellphone repair shop , several major Nigerian banks now run and branches. A major telecom company is installing solar panels on .
The national government also sees the potential. It levies no duty on solar panel imports, and made them tax exempt in . It has slowly begun installing off-grid solar panels to power universities, hospitals, and rural communities.
Despite this momentum, however, challenges remain.
A basic home solar system often costs more than a month鈥檚 income for low-income families, and many are hesitant to take out loans to access the tech. Financing also is a major hurdle for large-scale solar projects. About two-thirds of energy investments in Africa still . Loans for solar from international lenders could also saddle the world鈥檚 poorest countries with even more debt, warns Tengi George-Ikoli, Nigeria country manager of the Natural Resource Governance Institute.
But for Mr. Umar in Zing, solar is already a game changer. On a recent evening, his shop glowed under a single bulb powered by his rooftop panels. Outside, the rest of the street sat in darkness: the grid was out again.
Inside, Umar worked quietly, fixing a phone while two customers waited 鈥� one to charge a phone, another to collect his repaired one.
Through it all, the lights stayed on.
