By Philemon Adjekuko
Sometime in the year 2010, I attended the annual Maker Faire Africa in Ghana. It was there that I first encountered motorists using Compressed Natural Gas (CNG) to power their vehicles. Taxi drivers, in particular, embraced it enthusiastically and had done so for years without any noticeable difficulties.
At the time, if memory serves me right, Ghana had not yet begun producing crude oil commercially. I found myself asking a simple question: if Ghana could successfully run vehicles on imported natural gas, why was Nigeria, blessed with an enormous gas deposits than crude oil, still trapped in the endless cycle of petrol shortages, import dependency and self-inflicted energy hardship?
Nearly a decade later, the Nigerian National Petroleum Company began championing CNG as an alternative automotive fuel. Under the leadership of the then Group Managing Director, Mele Kyari, ambitious promises were made. About one million vehicles, Nigerians were told, would be converted to CNG, with roughly 200,000, particularly commercial vehicles, to be converted free of charge.
As usual, many Nigerians greeted the announcement with skepticism. Deadlines came and went. Progress appeared painfully slow until buses and a handful of corporate vehicles bearing the inscription “Powered by CNG” gradually began appearing on the streets of Abuja.
Government later introduced subsidised conversion program for members of the National Union of Road Transport Workers, while private vehicle owners were expected to pay over one million naira for conversion. Unsurprisingly, very few people showed interest.
Then petrol prices climbed relentlessly.
As the cost of petrol became unbearable, more motorists, especially Uber drivers and commercial operators, decided that conversion was worth the investment. Unfortunately, they encountered another obstacle: there were simply not enough CNG filling stations.
Today, the picture has improved, at least partially. Conversion costs have dropped to around ₦700,000, making the option more attractive. Consequently, thousands of motorists across Lagos, Abuja and Port Harcourt have made the switch.
I joined them.
After a few initial technical hiccups, my vehicle began running smoothly. Suddenly, just over ₦5,000 could fill my 65 standard cubic metre cylinder. The savings felt almost unbelievable. For roughly ₦20,000, my car could comfortably travel about 450 kilometres, depending on traffic conditions. Compared with petrol, my fuel costs dropped by nearly 70 percent.
Then reality arrived.
Finding CNG became the real challenge.
The number of dispensing stations has failed to keep pace with the growing number of converted vehicles. What should have been a success story has instead become a daily endurance test.
Motorists now leave their homes before dawn simply to secure a place in the queue. Waiting three hours has become normal. Even after enduring that ordeal, there is no guarantee of success. If the station’s pressure has fallen below the recommended 200 bar by the time your turn comes, you may receive only a fraction of a full tank, enough merely to return home and repeat the same frustrating exercise the following day.
Predictably, scarcity has created a new class of gatekeepers.
Just as fuel scarcity once produced all-powerful petrol attendants, CNG attendants have become the new lords of the forecourt.
At some stations, there are effectively two queues. One is for ordinary customers. The other is for those willing to quietly part with ₦1,000 for faster service. Elsewhere, the queue itself has become optional, provided you have “settled” the attendant. Vehicles simply drive past those who have waited patiently for hours and position themselves close to the dispensing point. Protests are ignored because the attendants now decide who gets served and who does not.
It is a troubling reminder that whenever scarcity meets weak oversight, corruption quickly finds fertile ground.
The greatest concern, however, is that the situation is likely to worsen as more Nigerians embrace CNG. Government deserves credit for encouraging a transition to cleaner and cheaper fuel. But promoting vehicle conversion without simultaneously expanding supply infrastructure risks replacing one national headache with another.
That raises an uncomfortable question.
How does Compressed Natural Gas become a Compressed National Problem?
The Nigerian Midstream and Downstream Petroleum Regulatory Authority (NMDPRA) must urgently strengthen oversight of CNG dispensing stations. Long queues, inconsistent pressure, arbitrary practices and unofficial payments should never become the defining features of an energy transition that promises affordability and efficiency.
Ironically, many petrol users now look with sympathy at motorists who switched to CNG. The financial savings remain real, but so too are the hours wasted searching for gas across the city. No Nigerian should have to choose between saving money and preserving their dignity.
One final question continues to trouble me. Why are foreign technicians, particularly Indians, largely responsible for maintaining much of our CNG infrastructure? Have we once again created an industry that depends almost entirely on imported technical expertise? If so, then we have missed another opportunity to build local capacity alongside new infrastructure.
Nigeria possesses one of the largest natural gas reserves in the world. That advantage should translate into convenience, efficiency and national competitiveness, not endless queues and informal payments.
We can make this work.
But unless infrastructure expansion, effective regulation and local technical capacity grow as rapidly as vehicle conversion, CNG risks becoming remembered not as one of Nigeria’s smartest energy reforms, but as yet another well-intentioned policy undermined by poor execution.
Philemon Adjekuko is a Senior Consultant with Gadfly Consulting Limited.
