More stories

  • in

    Ahead of Nigeria’s Election, a Cash Shortage Causes Chaos and Suffering

    Nigeria’s government changed the currency design before the presidential election, causing shortages and wreaking social havoc.Fights are breaking out in bank A.T.M. lines where people queue for days, just to withdraw a maximum of around $40. Cash shortages are so severe that many cannot buy food or medicine, despite having money in the bank. Protesters are venting their anger by burning down banks.A decision by Nigeria’s government to replace its currency with newly designed bills within just four months — with a deadline of Feb. 10 — has thrown Africa’s largest democracy into chaos as it heads toward a presidential election scheduled for this Saturday, Feb. 25.Most Nigerians turned in their old currency, called the naira, as they were told to do in October by the Central Bank of Nigeria. But when they tried to withdraw the new notes, from banks or even informal money brokers, they were stunned to find that few were available.The cash crisis is now an enormous and unpredictable factor in an election that was already Nigeria’s most wide-open race in years. The presidential candidates for the two major parties, which have alternated power for over two decades and failed to address widespread poverty and insecurity, are now facing a surprise, third-party challenger.The government has not made clear what it is trying to accomplish with the currency makeover, offering a gamut of explanations including that it is trying to rein in counterfeiting and cash hoarding. But the effort has been a disaster, and some suspect there may be a political motive behind the mess because of the timing.Voters are now furious at the governing party over the shortage of bank notes, which could undermine support for the party’s candidate. Protests, if they continue, could disrupt elections in parts of the country. Turnout could be affected as some voters struggle to afford to travel to faraway polling stations.Blessing Akor, 22, was on the verge of tears as she was jostled and elbowed by dozens of people waiting in line for an A.T.M. in central Abuja. That morning at 4 a.m., she had left her baby daughter with a neighbor she didn’t really trust, and went in search of cash.The heat was intense, but Ms. Akor had little choice; despite having money in her account, she had no cash for food, water or even the bus fare home. She was incandescent with rage at the government, and said she would not vote for any Nigerian politician.“We’ve been in hell, serious hell,” she said, watching as a man in military uniform cut to the front of the line. “It’s choking — as if they are pressing my throat.”So-called point-of-service operators stand on street corners with card machines, offering withdrawals, essentially functioning as human A.T.M.s. Taiwo Aina for The New York TimesNormally, cash is Ms. Akor’s livelihood. Since Nigeria has few commercial bank branches and A.T.M.s, many people get their cash from professional agents who act as human A.T.M.s., known as P.O.S., or point of service, operators. Ms. Akor is among legions of such operators, who stand on street corners throughout the country with small stocks of cash and mobile card machines, offering cash to cardholders in return for a small fee.Right now, though, cash is in such short supply that those fees are astronomical.Prince Chibeze, 37, ducked under a P.O.S. operator’s umbrella in Lagos last week and asked the price for withdrawing 5,000 naira. A construction worker who earns around 9,000 naira daily, he had spent hours searching for cash to send home to his parents, who were running out of food. But every P.O.S. operator was demanding 30 percent — 1,500 naira — a huge jump from the usual fee of 100 naira.Initially, Godwin Emefiele, the Central Bank governor, said the currency had to be redesigned because Nigerians were hoarding notes in their houses. He then said it would help prevent counterfeiting and kidnappers’ ransom payments, and that it was a step toward achieving a cashless society. Later, he also claimed it would reduce inflation — which has risen to a crippling 21 percent.But some analysts, politicians and dozens of Nigerian voters said that the real reason was to stem vote buying by foiling politicians who had stockpiled naira ahead of election day.Last week, President Muhammadu Buhari said that it had reduced the influence of money on politics, and many Nigerians spoke approvingly of the policy in interviews. But some warned that voters might be so desperate for cash that they would more readily sell their votes.President Buhari has served two terms, and could not run again. The governing All Progressives Congress (A.P.C.) party selected Bola Tinubu, a former governor of Lagos, as its candidate for president.But one of Mr. Tinubu’s rivals in the presidential primary was the head of the Central Bank, Mr. Emefiele. Mr. Tinubu’s allies assert that the Central Bank and a group of people around the president are trying to exact revenge, plotting to ensure Mr. Tinubu suffers massive losses by inciting Nigerians’ anger at the government.One A.P.C. state governor even claimed that they were trying to “provide a fertile foundation for a military takeover.”A campaign poster for Bola Tinubu, the ruling party candidate, at a market in Lagos this month.Taiwo Aina for The New York TimesSome critics even accuse President Buhari of trying to make Mr. Tinubu lose the election — allegations that Mr. Buhari, who has campaigned with Mr. Tinubu, has denied.This is the second time Mr. Buhari has rushed a currency redesign; the first was almost four decades ago, after he took power in a coup d’état. That time, he gave Nigerians less than two weeks to exchange their naira.How severe the shortage of new naira is this time is unclear. Mr. Emefiele has only vaguely referred to “challenges in the distribution” of notes, blaming commercial banks for not loading them into A.T.M.s. Neither he nor the president’s spokesmen could be reached for comment.While political infighting intensifies, the disruption to ordinary life is extraordinary.Angel Christopher pulled her children out of school, unable to pay the fees, because she is selling so few vegetables to cash-strapped customers at the Garki Model Market in Abuja. Hungry diners at a lunch spot ate reduced portions of banga soup — stew made with palm fruit — because the chef, Theresa Tota, can’t afford to buy as many ingredients.A livestock owner desperate for cash in northeast Borno sold his sheep for a fraction of the usual price. At Ocean Blue strip club in Lagos, lap dancers have started accepting bank transfers. Uber drivers now routinely phone passengers before pickups to ask if they’re paying cash — and if not, they cancel.Lines at a gas station in Lagos.Taiwo Aina for The New York TimesNigerians with bank accounts try to pay with cards and bank transfers — but are frequently stymied by what they’re told are “network issues,” perhaps because the system is suddenly overloaded.The crisis has been compounded by the scarcity of fuel. Lines at gas stations rival those at A.T.M.s. Some customers sleep overnight in their vehicles to get gas, and some pay double the official price. Industry officials blame the high cost of transporting fuel to and around the country. But Nigeria is one of Africa’s biggest oil producers, and many citizens blame government mismanagement.The long-term effects of the cash crunch on Nigeria’s already-struggling economy are not clear, but when India banned the largest rupee notes in 2016, causing similar chaotic scenes, its economy slowed markedly.The rituals that many Nigerians savor are also affected.At a glamorous Lagos wedding, no wads of cash were available for showering the bride and groom with money — a Nigerian tradition.A few notes of Nigeria’s currency, the naira, are “sprayed” to celebrate a recent wedding in Lagos. Normally, there would be far more.Taiwo Aina for The New York TimesNext morning at the Citadel Church, a large Pentecostal church in Lagos, when the blue plastic offering buckets went round, congregants mimed putting cash in them. Few had notes to give. Church leaders had anticipated that: outside the auditorium were rows of card machines, and inside, bank numbers flashed on a giant screen so worshipers could transfer their tithes instead.In his sermon, the church’s celebrity pastor, Tunde Bakare — who was a 2023 ruling party presidential aspirant himself, but received no delegates’ votes in the primaries — railed against Nigerian politicians, including some in his own party.“Today our nation is in dire straits; our frontline political parties and the politicians within their enclaves are at war with themselves,” he told his flock.After the service, he said in an interview that he would usually be out in the field campaigning for his party, the A.P.C., but that he refused to be “part of Ali Baba and the 40 thieves.”And though he was Mr. Buhari’s running mate in 2011, and remains close to the president, the pastor had no kind words for the chaotic currency redesign.“The policy may be good, but the implementation is terrible,” Mr. Bakare said.A screen at the Citadel Church in Lagos shows bank numbers so that churchgoers can give donations digitally because of the shortage of bank notes in Nigeria.Taiwo Aina for The New York TimesOladeinde Olawoyin contributed reporting from Lagos, Nigeria, and Rahila Lassa from Abuja, Nigeria. More

  • in

    Peter Obi Has Energized Nigeria’s Young Voters. Will They Turn Out for Him?

    The race is wide open in the presidential election in Nigeria, Africa’s most populous nation and a struggling economic powerhouse. Youth looking to evict the old guard are cheering on Peter Obi, a surprise third-party candidate.As the convoy of S.U.V.s pulled up to the biggest electronics market in Lagos, Nigeria’s economic capital, word quickly spread that inside one vehicle with tinted windows was Peter Obi, one of the front-runners in the upcoming presidential election, on a surprise campaign stop. Within minutes, a large crowd of mostly young men had gathered.“If I told them I was coming, they’d have shut down the market — it would have been ten times this,” Mr. Obi said, smiling, looking out at his roaring fans from under a cap that read: “Make Nigeria Great.” Then he stepped out in front of the sea of smartphones held aloft to record the occasion.“A new Nigeria is possible,” he told the crowd in his distinctive high voice. “For the first time, government is going to care about you.”For eight years, the citizens of Africa’s most populous nation — 70 percent of them under the age of 30 — have been governed by Muhammadu Buhari, who previously ruled the country as a military dictator, in the 1980s, long before most of them were even born.In a country where vote-buying and violence often distort elections, the presidential vote scheduled for Feb. 25 presents a rare chance for millions of young Nigerians, many of them new voters, to make their elders listen.According to polls, many of these new voters support Mr. Obi, a former state governor challenging the traditional two-party hegemony by running with the lesser-known Labour Party. He is seen as the candidate of the youth, though far from young at 61; his main rivals are in their 70s. Mr. Buhari, who is 80, served the maximum of two terms.“A one-eyed man, in the land of the blind, is king,” said Mr. Obi’s running mate, Yusuf Datti Baba-Ahmed, in an interview.Mr. Obi, seen as the candidate of Nigeria’s youth, drew an enthusiastic young crowd at Alaba market, Lagos, this month.Taiwo Aina for The New York TimesNigeria, and particularly its young people, have had an extremely tough few years. Large groups of schoolchildren have been kidnapped, by extremists or ransom seekers. Youth unemployment nearly tripled during the Buhari years. Demonstrators in peaceful protests against police brutality were themselves shot dead by security forces in 2020 as they sang and waved the flag by a tollgate in Lekki, an upmarket Lagos suburb.Many young people are channeling their anger at the government’s repressive response to that movement — as well as the failure to bring those responsible to justice, a seven month Twitter ban, and persistent police brutality — into this election.“What happened in Lekki is a clear indication that this government don’t care about the youth,” said Amanda Okafor, 28, who said she saw many fellow protesters shot dead in Lekki. Ms. Okafor was eligible to vote in the past two elections, but never did. Now she goes everywhere with her voter’s card, determined to cast her first-ever vote.“We’re tired of these same old people coming in to tell us that they’re going to change stuff for us and they’re not doing anything,” she said.For many young Nigerians, these “same old people” include the presidential candidate of the party in power, Bola Tinubu, a former Lagos governor with a strong southwestern base, and the slogan, “It’s my turn.” He sometimes slurs words and appears confused, alarming some voters.Minutes after he arrived at the Alaba electronics market, Mr. Obi’s visit began to go viral. Taiwo Aina for The New York TimesThe old guard also includes the candidate of the opposition People’s Democratic Party, Atiku Abubakar — a former vice president running for president for the sixth time. He will likely garner much support in Nigeria’s northern states.In an interview, Mr. Obi said that young people invest so much hope in him because the leaders they had known never cared for them or Nigeria. He said it was an “existential election” for the country.“We’re not going to solve the problem of Nigeria overnight, because it’s huge,” he said.His rivals, Mr. Abubakar and Mr. Tinubu, did not respond to requests for interviews.Minutes after he arrived in Alaba electronics market, Mr. Obi’s unexpected visit began to go viral. As the convoy left for yet another rally, social media-savvy Obi supporters — nicknamed Obidients — mobbed the vehicles, unsure which one their hero was in. Eventually, he popped out of a sunroof, blowing kisses to the crowd.“No shishi!” yelled the supporters running alongside his car — a slogan that, roughly, means “My vote is not for sale.”“No shishi” is exactly the kind of change that Onyx Ahmed, 21, would like to see. A recent anatomy graduate and protester against police violence, she retweets Peter Obi’s posts, blocks supporters of his rivals, and hectors her friends to register to vote.But in June, when she went to collect her own voter’s card, upon seeing the long lines, she quickly gave up.“I was like, I’ll go home, and come back. I never went back,” she said, wincing, but only slightly. “I don’t really like stress.”Supporters of the incumbent All Progressives Congress party, whose candidate, Bola Tinubu, is a former Lagos governor, at a rally in Lagos this month.Taiwo Aina for The New York TimesAnalysts warn Ms. Ahmed’s attitude may be common, and say that newly registered voters are least likely to show up at the polls. Mr. Obi’s political opponents wield this idea to mock his supporters, dismissing them as just a few irrelevant armchair warriors.But the Obidients give as good as they get. When Adams Oshiomhole, a former governing party chairman, told a television channel that Mr. Obi’s online support was “just 10 young men and women in one room” churning out stories, the Obidients changed his words to the catchier “Four people tweeting in a room.” That became a catchphrase, posted alongside image after image of thronging crowds at Obi rallies.But there are other reasons young Obi supporters may not turn out. Many tried for days to obtain voters’ cards, but never made it to the front of interminable queues. Others cannot afford to travel to the states where they are registered to vote.And their numbers may be overwhelmed by the get-out-the-vote machines built over decades by the governing All Progressives Congress party, and its longtime rival, the P.D.P. Each has local branches, women’s and youth groups nationwide, and affiliations with workers’ groups like that of Lagos’s market women, to mobilize voters come election day.The reach of this party machinery was on display at Adebayo market in Bariga, a Lagos suburb, where customers sashayed down lanes crammed with jollof rice seasoning, diapers, hair weaves and zippers.The governing party has deep ties among the people who work at the Bariga market in Lagos.Taiwo Aina for The New York TimesThe market’s financial secretary took me around, making introductions to women working there, including Olabisi Onisarotu, selling baby care products. She said she was supporting Mr. Tinubu, because as Lagos governor, he had provided free education and good health care.She glanced over my shoulder at the financial secretary, who was making sure she stuck to the script.“Social amenities,” he mouthed.“And social amenities,” Ms. Onisarotu repeated.Around the corner in a general goods store, the market coordinator, 72-year-old Gbemisola Lawal, complained that the policies of the A.P.C. had run the economy into the ground, driving her customers away. But that wouldn’t change her vote, she said — or that of her small army of market women.“This market belongs to A.P.C.,” said Ms. Lawal. “We’ve always voted A.P.C. and we’ll always vote A.P.C.”Left: Onyx Ahmed, 21, who hectors her friends to vote for Mr. Obi but did not collect her own voter’s card. Right: Gbemisola Lawal, 72, coordinator of Adebayo market, whose market women, she said, would all vote for Mr. Tinubu.Taiwo Aina for The New York TimesEven so, cracks are appearing in the traditional parties’ machinery. Near the market, the driver of a yellow danfo, or minibus, said that this year he would defy his A.P.C.-supporting transport union, follow his conscience, and vote for Mr. Obi.But the driver would not give his name, saying it would cost him his job.Back in Mr. Obi’s convoy, his Labour Party colleagues — traveling in the luxury van behind his car — strategized about when he should stay hidden (in the neighborhood of his opponent, Mr. Tinubu) and when he should pop out of the sunroof and wave (in areas dominated by people from the southeast, Mr. Obi’s home region). Calls from the rally they were headed toward reported members being attacked by thugs.“They should fight back,” one of them ordered.The convoy drew up at the rally, where the crowds sang along with the musical duo P-Square, who like many Nigerian musical stars, are proud Obidients. On the sidelines, dozens of young people insisted they would turn out to vote, violence or not.The stakes were too high for them not to, they said.An Obi rally in Lagos this month. Many young Obi supporters tried to obtain voters’ cards but never made it to the front of the lines. Others cannot afford to travel back to the states in which they are registered to vote.Taiwo Aina for The New York TimesOladeinde Olawoyin contributed reporting. More