Hawking PMS: The New Normal in a Crude-Rich Nigeria.
Hawking PMS: The New Normal in a Crude-Rich Nigeria.
Nigeria, a nation blessed with vast reserves of crude oil, once prided itself on being the giant of Africa, not only for its population and cultural influence but also for its energy resources. Yet, in a baffling twist of irony, the streets of Nigerian cities and towns now paint a picture of desperation, where hawking Petrol Motor Spirit (PMS) has become the new normal. This paradox where a country rich in crude oil finds itself struggling to provide its citizens with accessible and affordable PMS serves as a stark reminder of the challenges that have plagued the nation for decades.
The Disappearing Fuel Stations
In recent times, a disturbing trend has emerged in Nigeria: the disappearance of active fuel stations. Once bustling with activity, these stations have become shadows of their former selves, with only a few outlets—primarily those operated by the Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation (NNPC) still managing to dispense PMS to the public. The majority of private fuel stations have either shut down or drastically reduced their operations, citing supply challenges, high costs, and the ever-fluctuating price of PMS as the reasons for their retreat.
For the average Nigerian, this means that access to PMS has become a frustrating ordeal. The once straightforward task of filling up one's tank has turned into a daily gamble, where securing PMS at a reasonable price is akin to winning a lottery. The scarcity of PMS has led to long queues at the few operational stations, with motorists often spending hours waiting for their turn. The situation has become so dire that many have turned to a less conventional and far more dangerous source of PMS: the jerrycan boys.
The Rise of the Jerrycan Boys
In the wake of PMS scarcity, a new breed of entrepreneurs has emerged on the streets of Nigeria. These individuals, often referred to as "jerrycan boys," have capitalized on the desperation of motorists by selling PMS directly from jerrycans. Their presence has become a familiar sight in urban areas, where they set up shop at street corners, ready to supply PMS to those unwilling or unable to endure the long queues at the fuel stations.
The rise of the jerrycan boys represents a troubling development in a country that should, by all accounts, have no shortage of PMS. These informal vendors have effectively filled the gap left by the retreat of formal fuel stations, but their operations come with significant risks. PMS is highly flammable, and the practice of storing and selling it in jerrycans poses a serious threat to public safety. Yet, for many Nigerians, the convenience and immediacy of buying PMS from these vendors outweigh the potential dangers.
### A Personal Encounter with the Fuel Crisis
Just last week, I found myself in a situation that perfectly encapsulates the surreal nature of Nigeria's PMS crisis. After spending hours searching for PMS and finding none, I reluctantly turned to one of the jerrycan boys who had set up shop near my home. The transaction was quick and efficient, and I left with a full tank and a lingering sense of unease. As I was about to leave, the vendor approached me with an unexpected proposition: "Oga, can we exchange contacts so you can just call me when you need supplies?"
I was taken aback by the request. Here was a man, casually suggesting that I rely on him for a highly flammable substance, as if he were offering a home delivery service for groceries. I hesitated but eventually took his number, not wanting to appear rude. At the time, I couldn't imagine ever needing to call him.
Yet, today, as I found myself once again in need of PMS, I did the unthinkable—I called him. True to his word, he delivered the PMS promptly and even offered it to me at the same rate as our previous transaction. He explained that I was now a "preferred customer" and could enjoy special benefits, such as price stability and priority service. As I thanked him and drove away, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of disillusionment. How did we, as a nation, fall so far that buying PMS from a jerrycan vendor is now considered normal?
The Paradox of Plenty
Nigeria's PMS crisis is a paradox of plenty, a situation where abundant natural resources coexist with scarcity and hardship. The reasons for this are complex and multifaceted, ranging from mismanagement and corruption to infrastructural decay and global market fluctuations. However, the impact on ordinary Nigerians is painfully simple: life has become more difficult, more expensive, and more precarious.
PMS, once a basic necessity, has become a luxury item that many can no longer afford. The scarcity of PMS has driven up prices across the board, affecting everything from transportation costs to the price of goods and services. The long queues at the few operational fuel stations are a daily reminder of the inefficiencies and failures that have come to define Nigeria's energy sector.
A Nation at a Crossroads
Nigeria stands at a crossroads, where the decisions made today will determine the future of its energy sector and, by extension, the lives of its citizens. The current PMS crisis is unsustainable, both economically and socially. The rise of the jerrycan boys may offer a temporary solution, but it is no substitute for a functional, well-managed fuel distribution system.
As a nation, Nigeria must confront the root causes of its PMS crisis and implement long-term solutions that prioritize the needs of its people. This includes investing in refining capacity, improving infrastructure, and addressing the systemic issues that have allowed corruption and inefficiency to thrive. Only then can Nigeria hope to reclaim its status as a true energy giant and provide its citizens with the resources they need to live safe, prosperous lives.
In the meantime, however, Nigerians will continue to navigate the strange new reality where hawking PMS on the streets is not only accepted but increasingly necessary. It is a reality that reflects the broader challenges facing the country, but also the resilience and ingenuity of its people. Yet, one cannot help but wonder: how much longer can this paradox of plenty persist before the situation reaches a breaking point?
