By Sebastian Eshioromeh.
With the flourish of a bureaucrat’s pen, the Nigerian Electricity Regulatory Commission (NERC) in April 2024, announced a sharp increase in electricity tariffs, neatly categorising consumers into Bands A, B, C, and D. Band A, the so-called elite of electricity consumers, were promised a utopia of 18 to 24 hours of uninterrupted power daily, while Band B was to enjoy a slightly less luxurious 16 to 18 hours. The rest, consigned to Bands C and D, were left to grope in the darkness of Nigeria’s perennial power failures. The price for this promised paradise? A staggering N225 per kilowatt-hour, up from the previous N66.
The Nigerian Electricity Regulatory Commission (NERC), the self-appointed magicians of the power sector, waving their wands to conjure up a new trick: the Banding system A,B,C and D tariff system. This sleight of hand, dressed in the finery of progress, is nothing but a freshly branded fraud, a carnival of exploitation masquerading as reform.
But as the curtains rose on this new act, the consumers quickly realised they had been sold a ticket to a farce. The promised hours of electricity turned out to be a mirage, evaporating faster than water on a hot tin roof. Band A customers, who had braced themselves for a life of uninterrupted power, found themselves in the same dimly lit reality as their Band B counterparts. In some cases, Band B customers fared even worse, their meters spinning like carnival rides even when their homes were as silent as a graveyard.
The more troubling concern is that Band A, once heralded as the golden standard of electricity provision, has become the very instrument of exploitation wielded by distribution companies across the country. It is a classic case of robbing Peter to pay Paul, a cynical ploy that promises more power for higher billing but delivers nothing but darkness and despair. Band A, the supposed pinnacle of the tariff hierarchy, has become a mirage, a tantalising illusion that fades the closer one gets to it.
The promise was simple: pay more, get more. Band A customers, lured by the prospect of 18 to 24 hours of uninterrupted power, dutifully accepted the steep increase in tariffs, only to find themselves in a cruel paradox. Instead of more power, they received less. Instead of reliability, they faced erratic supply. And instead of fair billing, they were handed outrageous charges that defied logic and common sense and some point leaves consumers wondering if their meters have been compromised.
The meters, those supposed guardians of accuracy, have become tools of extortion, spinning wildly even when homes lie silent and appliances are switched off. It is as if the very air is being charged, as though the darkness itself has a price. For many, the experience of being a Band A customer feels less like a privilege and more like a punishment, a never-ending cycle of paying for promises that are never kept.
This exploitation is not just a failure of service; it is a betrayal of trust. Band A was meant to be the benchmark, the proof that Nigeria’s power sector could deliver on its promises. Instead, it has become a symbol of everything that is wrong with the system: greed, inefficiency, and a blatant disregard for the people it is meant to serve.
The distribution companies, emboldened by the lack of accountability, have turned Band A into a cash cow, milking it dry while offering little in return. It is a vicious cycle, one that leaves consumers feeling powerless in every sense of the word. And as the bills pile up and the lights stay off, the frustration grows, a simmering anger that threatens to boil over.
The complaints poured in like a torrential downpour. Nnenna Agbai, a Band A customer, took to Facebook to vent her frustration: “Our own Band A seems to be Band A pro. It appears the units fly away even when everything is switched off and no one is in the house.” Her words echoed the sentiments of countless others, their voices rising in a chorus of disillusionment.
Uka Ukorie, another disgruntled consumer, lamented, “The monsters are everywhere. Telecoms, Power, CBN, Cable. They want to bill us to our early graves.”
Indeed, the monsters are everywhere, and they wear many masks. The Band A,B,C and D system, touted as a solution to Nigeria’s power woes, has revealed itself to be nothing more than a sophisticated scheme to milk the already beleaguered populace. It is a classic case of giving with one hand and taking with both, a practice perfected by those who sit in the corridors of power.
The Nigeria Labour Congress (NLC), ever the voice of the voiceless, has not been silent in the face of this charade. Comrade Joe Ajaero, the NLC President, minced no words when he described the banding system as “another form of fraud, it’s 419.” His words, sharp as a machete, cut through the thick fog of government propaganda. “The services are poor whether you are in Band A or D,” he declared, his voice a rallying cry for the masses. “They are just using it to defraud Nigerians.”
And defraud they have. The charges have increased, but the services remain as erratic as ever. In some areas, electricity is as rare as a honest politician, with days passing without a flicker of power. Meters, the supposed guardians of fair billing, are either non-existent or as unreliable as a weather forecast in the rainy season. The result is a system that thrives on confusion, where consumers are billed for darkness and charged for silence.
The government, ever eager to deflect blame, points to the deregulation of the power sector as the reason for its hands-off approach. But deregulation, in the Nigerian context, is often a euphemism for abandonment. It is a way of washing one’s hands of responsibility while continuing to reap the benefits. The NERC, supposedly the watchdog of the power sector, has instead become a lapdog, its bark muted and its bite non-existent.
Amidst this chaos, the people have begun to seek alternatives. Eze King, a pragmatic soul, has turned to solar energy. “It’s better to go on a solar energy-powered system,” he said. “Even if it’s payment by instalment, with weekly instalments of N50,000 for one year, one can get a system that can be used for pumping water also.”
But not everyone can afford the luxury of solar panels. For the majority, the choice is between paying exorbitant electricity bills or living in darkness. It is a choice that should not exist in a country as rich in resources as Nigeria, a country where the wealth beneath the soil is enough to power the entire continent. Yet, here we are, a nation of generators and inverters, our streets humming with the sound of private power solutions.
The NLC, to its credit, has vowed to oppose any further increase in electricity tariffs. Comrade Ajaero, speaking with the fervour of a man who has seen too much, declared, “We will oppose any attempt to increase electricity tariffs in Nigeria. The pains we are going through are better imagined than explained.” His words are a rallying cry, a call to arms for a people who have been pushed to the brink.
But opposition alone is not enough. The Band ABCD fraud is a symptom of a deeper malaise, a malaise that has its roots in a system that prioritises profit over people. It is a system that sees citizens not as stakeholders but as cash cows, to be milked dry and discarded. Until this system is dismantled, until those in power are held accountable, the cycle of exploitation will continue.
The people must awaken from their slumber, shake off the chains of complacency, and demand better. They must see the Banding system for what it truly is: a beautifully packaged lie, a glittering façade hiding a rotten core. They must rise, not just against this fraud, but against the culture of impunity that allows such frauds to thrive.
The government must be prepared to offer something tangible, something of real value, before demanding that its citizens dig deeper into their already empty pockets. It is not enough to ask for more while giving less; the people deserve to see a return on their hard-earned money. This principle must extend beyond the power sector, permeating every facet of service provision in the country: telecommunications, water supply, and other essential utilities. The era of paying for promises that never materialise must come to an end.
Until the government and service providers can demonstrate a genuine commitment to delivering quality services, the notion of increasing electricity tariffs must be shelved. The people cannot be expected to pay more for nothing, to bear the burden of inefficiency and mismanagement. Value must be given where value is due, and until that fundamental contract is honoured, any talk of tariff hikes should be dismissed as nothing more than a cruel joke.
Discussion about this post