Nine Power Plants Go Offline, Grid Drops to 675MW, and Honestly, Nobody Is Surprised

By Our Staff Writer, typing this on 11% battery

Sit down, my friend, because I need to tell you what happened. The national grid has dropped to 675 megawatts after nine power plants went offline. Nine. At the same time. Not one by one, like a gentleman would, but all together, as if they had a WhatsApp group and somebody said, “Let’s all rest.”

Now you may be asking, “Is 675 megawatts bad?” Let me help. Nigeria has over 200 million people. Share 675 megawatts among everybody, and each person gets about three watts. Three. Your phone charger needs more than that. So officially, the whole country now has less electricity than it takes to charge one phone before the office closes.

As usual, we have been given the three classic reasons: gas, money, and “technical issues.” The gas is missing. The money is owed. And “technical issues” is what we say when nobody wants to say, “We don’t know.” With those three, you can explain anything in this country, including why your cousin’s wedding began four hours late.

Meanwhile in Ikeja, a woman we will call Mrs. Adeola (not a real person, but you know her) says she has stopped asking when the light will come. “Now I ask when the generator will be tired,” she said. To be fair to the generator, it is the only service provider in her life that works every single time, as long as you pay it.

Then there is the electricity bill. This is the beautiful part. The light is gone, but the bill is present, punctual, and in perfect health. It has never gone offline. It has never needed gas. If the grid worked half as hard as the billing department, we would be exporting electricity to Europe.

Nigerians, as always, have adapted. One man on your street now sells ice at “premium prices” because his freezer was blessed by the last minute of light. A barber is now the community charging station. Someone claims he charged his phone at a funeral. We did not ask questions.

Experts say the situation will improve “very soon,” which, in Nigerian, is a unit of time that sits somewhere between next week and never.

At press time, the light returned for four minutes. The entire street screamed, a neighbour ran outside holding an iron like a trophy, and then it left again, probably to take a call. Please charge your power bank. Charge your hope too. Actually, skip the hope. It has been at 2% for years.