By Bunmi Awoyemi
For much of the third and fourth quarters of 2023 and the first and second quarters of 2024, Nigerians endured punishing food prices. In markets across the country, the story was the same: rice, maize, millet, and other staples had risen beyond the reach of the average household. A 50kg bag of rice—the most consumed staple—soared to between ₦100,000 and ₦130,000, up from ₦65,000 just a year earlier.
The media often focused on inflation, subsidy removal, and the naira’s volatility. Yet beneath the surface, another force was quietly wreaking havoc: a silent, highly organised grain cartel taking advantage of Nigeria’s policy environment to manufacture scarcity. These hoarders were not merely storing grains—they were effectively holding the nation hostage. And it took one calculated move from President Bola Ahmed Tinubu to dismantle them.
The syndicate operated with a deceptively simple yet effective strategy. They acquired vast quantities of locally produced grains—especially paddy rice, the raw form of rice—and locked them away in warehouses scattered across the country. This wasn’t idle speculation; it was a deliberate, well-capitalised enterprise. Investors were recruited, storage facilities secured or constructed, and all with one expectation: with grain imports restricted by government policy, prices would continue climbing unchecked. The longer they held onto their stockpiles, the higher the profit margins.
For a time, their plan worked. Supply dried up. Rice mills couldn’t get enough paddy to process. Many shut down or drastically scaled back operations. Meanwhile, the cartel released small quantities of grains at inflated prices, profiting immensely while market prices spiralled. But their agenda extended beyond economics. Their strategy was also political. They calculated that sustained food inflation would erode public patience, forcing the Tinubu administration to abandon key reforms—particularly the removal of fuel subsidies and the unification of the exchange rate. They banked on the idea that widespread hardship, driven by hunger, would fracture the government’s resolve and trigger a policy reversal.
They were wrong. While public complaints grew louder and critics accused the government of inaction, President Tinubu was quietly analysing the crisis at its root. When the time was right, he acted with surgical precision. He approved import waivers for critical food items, including grains and paddy rice—materials that had previously been subject to import restrictions. These waivers didn’t open the floodgates indiscriminately; they allowed licensed importers and processors to bring in large volumes of raw materials through strategic, controlled channels. This targeted move revitalised the domestic processing sector.
Suddenly, rice mills that had been idled were able to restart operations. With raw paddy available again, production surged. Supply chains resumed. Prices began to drop. The effects were felt quickly. Within a matter of weeks, the price of a 50kg bag of rice fell by more than 40 percent—from ₦110,000 to between ₦60,000 and ₦65,000 in several major markets. Other staple grains also became more affordable. The cartel’s power was broken. Their hoarded stock lost value. Their dominance over the food supply chain collapsed almost overnight.
In a moment of well-earned vindication, President Tinubu remarked: “They were hoarding food thinking that they can make us reverse subsidy removal and unification of FX, but we were undeterred. We are resolute! The hoarded foods are back in the market. Together, we have won them.”
Beyond the relief at market stalls, the true significance of this development lies in the broader lesson it teaches. For too long, entrenched interests have manipulated national policy for personal gain. Cartels and profiteers have operated with near-impunity, fuelling crises to serve their agendas. What President Tinubu demonstrated was that with focused strategy and firm political will, even the most well-entrenched economic saboteurs can be confronted—and defeated. He didn’t resort to media theatrics. He didn’t deploy armed forces. He used what they didn’t expect: intelligent policy intervention.
Rather than throw money at the problem, he addressed the structural bottleneck. In doing so, he not only protected the economy but preserved the integrity of his reform agenda. This was a clear message that meaningful reform is not about succumbing to popular pressure—it is about making the difficult decisions that lead to long-term stability and equity.
Yet, even now, some critics persist in claiming that President Tinubu has accomplished nothing. They dismiss the price drop. They ignore the return of activity in the milling sector. They overlook the clarity and consistency of the policy response. Many of these critics either thrived under the old system or are too blinded by political and ethnic bias to acknowledge real progress. These are not neutral observers. Increasingly, they resemble what some now refer to as Gullible, Hungry, Intentionally Ignorant Useful Idiots GHIIUIs—those who refuse to read, refuse to reason, and refuse to engage with facts. Their motivation is not national progress, but the delegitimisation of a leader they never accepted from the outset.
But while they continue shouting, the market is adjusting. While they deny the evidence, food is returning to shelves. While they post propaganda, ordinary Nigerians are finally experiencing relief after months of strain.
This was a true test of leadership, and President Tinubu passed. He did not panic. He did not waver. He acted decisively, broke the hoarders, stabilised the market, and shielded his reforms from sabotage. The importance of this moment extends beyond temporary price drops. It represents the possibility that Nigeria can be governed by strength and intelligence. It shows that reforms can succeed, that cartels can be broken, and that economic fairness is achievable—when those in power choose courage over compromise.
So, the next time someone insists that Tinubu has achieved nothing, ask them to explain the fall in rice prices. Ask them to account for the revival of domestic production. Ask them to say why the grain cartels have gone silent. And if they still refuse to see it, you’ll know the truth: this was never about facts. It was always about denial.
