Reporter's notebook: Never expect power always in Nigeria

A week before Christmas last year, I stocked my refrigerator with tomatoes, carrots, green peppers and chicken - all bought after hours of ferocious haggling at the chaotic Mile 12 market in Lagos.

I also cooled four dozen homemade ginger-flavoured hibiscus drinks to accompany the jollof rice and chicken I would serve to guests at my Christmas Day party.

But that night, as I sat with my family laughing in front of the television, the lights suddenly went out.

My heart sank - not for nothing is Nigeria's National Electric Power Authority, or NEPA, known as Never Expect Power Always.

And in fact, we had no power again until Dec. 27.

Every day, the ice blocks in my fridge thawed a little more until everything was ruined - the vegetables had wilted, the meat smelled foul and the drinks were foamy and fermented.

I threw it all away and cancelled the party.

I was angry but, sadly, not surprised.

By December last year, Nigeria's national grid had shut down abruptly 12 times. In one week in October, there were actually three power cuts that plunged the whole country into darkness for hours.

Oil-rich, energy-poor

You would think Nigeria, a major crude oil producer with the largest gas reserves in Africa, would be self-sufficient when it comes to power. But 140 million people - around 70% of the population - lack sufficient access to energy sources like electricity to power their homes, or fuels to cook for their families, according to the International Energy Agency.

Also, only about half of Nigeria's 220 million people, mostly in urban areas, are connected to the grid, which cannot supply their daily energy needs to power their water pumps, laptops, phones or businesses.

While the national grid, powered 80% by gas and 20% by hydro, can generate 12,522 megawatts (MW), at least 40,000MW is needed to meet demand.

Many attribute Nigeria's electricity woes to ageing infrastructure, limited grid capacity, machine breakdowns, and shortages of water and gas.

Energy experts say the country's over-reliance on fossil fuels and low investment in renewables, like solar, also explain why so many Nigerians don't have power.

So people find other solutions. Around 84% of homes in cities and 86% of businesses across the country have backup generators powered by diesel or petrol.

Others are even more inventive.

When I went to pick up my clothes from my regular tailor, Doyin Owolabi, in Ilorin in the north-central state of Kwara in January, he was using torchlight from his apprentices' phones to finish the trimmings.

He'd had no electricity for days, and his petrol-guzzling generator, which was supposed to be his backup, had broken down because he was using it so much.

I recently shot a documentary on how women were driving a nascent solar revolution in Nigeria, so I asked if he'd ever consider buying a solar power system instead of another generator.

I know that is what I need, but the solar capacity I need to power my shop is expensive," Owolabi said, waving his hand to take in all the sewing machines around him.

"I will need a loan for that."

When it comes to getting Nigerians to switch from noisy, polluting generators to renewables like solar, it is often all about the cost.

Owolabi, for instance, would need to pay 3,000,000 naira  ($1,993.36) upfront for a solar installation that could power two sewing machines and one steam iron. This is around 15 times his monthly take-home pay of about 200,000 naira.

Though government initiatives to integrate solar power into the energy mix, especially in rural areas, are yielding some results, solar power still accounts for less than 3% of total electricity generated in Nigeria.

And while some companies, like the Bill Gates-backed start-up Arnergy, allow salary earners like me to spread payments over time, most Nigerians can't afford to do this.

Nigeria's power struggles are undoubtedly complex, but one thing is clear: It must urgently address the widespread energy poverty to improve its people's welfare and productivity.

In the meantime, my fridge is full again and my fingers are tightly crossed.

($1 = 1,505.0000 naira)

(Reporting by Bukola Adebayo; Editing by Jon Hemming.)