…Analysis: The $18 Billion Nigerian Nightmare
By Our Reporter
The Nigerian National Petroleum Company Limited (NNPCL) has categorically ruled out the sale of the Port Harcourt Refining Company, signaling its intent to push ahead with high-graded rehabilitation of the troubled plant.
Group Chief Executive Officer, Bashir Ojulari, made the announcement during a town hall meeting at NNPC Towers, Abuja, quashing weeks of speculation that the federal government was finally considering privatizing the long-moribund facility.
Ojulari, however, hinted that the earlier plan to resume operations at the refinery before full completion of its rehabilitation was “ill-informed and sub-commercial,” effectively admitting that the optimism paraded late last year was premature. He emphasized that a more advanced technical partnership is now required to finish the project, and that outright sale is off the table, at least for now.
“Selling is highly unlikely as it would lead to further value erosion,” Ojulari declared, reaffirming NNPC’s position as the “strategic custodian of national energy infrastructure.”
Yet, beneath the applause of NNPC staffers and the polished rhetoric of “business-focused direction,” a harder truth lingers: retaining these refineries might actually be the costlier option.
The NNPC’s latest stance raises critical questions about Nigeria’s capacity, or willingness, to break free from a cycle of costly refinery rehabilitation schemes that have yielded zero value.
Just last year, the Port Harcourt Refinery was triumphantly declared functional after a multi-year, multi-billion-dollar turnaround maintenance project. The contractor, Tecnimont SpA, an Italian engineering firm, was feted. NNPC’s then-GCEO, Mele Kyari, spoke of renewed hope. Fast forward to today, and the same facility is once again under technical and financial review, with no clear path to operational stability.
What happened? Did Tecnimont SpA fail to deliver? Was the project sabotaged post-Kyari? Or are we witnessing yet another tragic chapter in Nigeria’s long history of deception, corruption, and incompetence in the oil sector?
These are not rhetorical questions. They demand answers. The Nigerian public has every right to know why, after decades of failed rehabilitation attempts and nearly $18 billion in cumulative investments, none of the country’s refineries, Port Harcourt, Warri, or Kaduna, are functional today.
In July, during the OPEC Seminar in Vienna, Ojulari made a rare admission of truth: “All options are on the table,” he said, hinting for the first time at the possibility of selling Nigeria’s refining assets. It was a significant departure from the usual state-sponsored bravado.
Enter Aliko Dangote, whose new 650,000 barrels-per-day Dangote Refinery looms large over Nigeria’s refining landscape. Dangote did not mince words. According to him, the state refineries are lost causes, having swallowed $18 billion in funds over decades with nothing to show for it. He likened the current rehabilitation efforts to trying to modernize a 40-year-old car that can no longer support new technology.
Dangote’s motives may be questioned. After all, a functional NNPC refinery would be his direct competitor. But his facts remain unassailable. The reality is harsh: these refineries have become financial sinkholes, endlessly consuming public funds while delivering zero output, zero value, and zero accountability.
In the midst of this refinery fiasco, Tecnimont SpA has been conspicuously silent. What did they deliver? What did Nigeria pay for? Why was a facility declared functional in late 2024 now being deemed a candidate for technical reassessment?
If Tecnimont fulfilled its contractual obligations, where’s the functional refinery? If it didn’t, why is there no investigation or audit to hold them accountable? Why is there no transparent report detailing the technical state of the refinery today versus project expectations?
Until Nigerians get straight answers on Tecnimont’s performance, and the roles of past NNPC leadership, the story of the refineries, especially Port Harcourt, will remain entangled in suspicion, conspiracy theories, and public distrust.
While NNPC insists that selling the refinery would “erode value,” the bigger question is: what value? The refineries haven’t contributed to Nigeria’s refining capacity for years. They are relics of a bygone era, trapped in a cycle of possible vandalism, questionable procurement, and all the politics in between. Every additional dollar spent on their rehabilitation without structural reforms is another dollar burned to ash.
Opponents of privatization argue that the sale of these assets could mirror the failures of Nigeria’s power sector reforms. Their concerns are valid. But what’s the alternative? Another round of multi-billion dollar rehabilitation contracts with no true oversight, committed delivery timelines, and no consequences for failure?
The time for sentiment is over. What Nigeria needs is a bold, transparent, and performance-based divestment strategy: one that ensures job preservation, output guarantees, and clear exit of government from day-to-day operations. The cost of inaction, of clinging to state-owned refineries as national trophies, is proving far more devastating than the political discomfort of selling them.
Before NNPC doubles down on another rehabilitation contract, Nigerians deserve to hear directly from Tecnimont SpA. What exactly was delivered? What failed? Where did the money go?
After this truth is laid bare, Nigeria should please proceed with dignity to end this long, expensive tragedy.