It is rare to find a multibillionaire who has not fought nasty battles. Yet, as business conflicts go, the face-off between Aliko Dangote, founder of the Dangote Refinery, and Farouk Ahmed, former Chief Executive Officer of the Nigerian Midstream and Downstream Petroleum Regulatory Authority (NMDPRA), stands out as one of the most dramatic Africa’s richest man has fought in recent years.
It would not be surprising if Ahmed’s resignation—alongside that of the Nigerian Upstream Petroleum Regulatory Commission (NUPRC) chief, Gbenga Komolafe—marks only a pause rather than the end of this conflict. The issues exposed run far deeper than individual personalities.
Dangote’s earlier battles in cement and noodles were fierce and left scars and enemies behind. But in retrospect, those were mere skirmishes compared to the struggle to secure and operationalise his refinery. This battle has pitted him against entrenched state interests that have long thrived in Nigeria’s rentier economy.
Scalding Like Fire
In unusually direct press statements and advertorials signed personally by Dangote, he accused Ahmed of living far beyond his legitimate means—alleging that his children attend elite Swiss schools costing as much as $5 million in fees. Dangote challenged Ahmed to explain how such expenses could be met from lawful income.
He went further by petitioning the Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC), reportedly laying out even more damaging allegations than those made public.
For a businessman known for shunning microphones, Dangote was not just shaking the table—he was flipping it. This was no ordinary corporate dispute; it was a multilayered war framed as one fought for both personal investment and national interest.
Not even the 2007 revocation of the Port Harcourt and Kaduna refineries’ sale—after a Dangote-led consortium paid $670 million—generated this level of bitterness.
Greasy Business of Oil
The reason is simple: oil is not merely commerce—it is political power. Unlike cement or noodles, oil does not just respond to history; it actively shapes it.
Classic works such as Anthony Sampson’s The Seven Sisters and Daniel Yergin’s Pulitzer Prize–winning The Prize show how oil pioneers inevitably collide with the state once their interests threaten entrenched power structures.
John D. Rockefeller’s Standard Oil faced little resistance initially—coal dominated energy at the time. But once oil became strategically vital, particularly for military power, state involvement became inevitable. Britain’s decision to convert its navy from coal to oil fundamentally altered global geopolitics.
From then on, oil has remained a battleground where private initiative and state power clash—especially when rents are at stake.
Ahmed’s Fall
Ahmed has fallen—but perhaps to preserve the system rather than dismantle it.
He was not merely a regulator; he stood at the intersection where pioneer disruption collided with entrenched rent-seeking power. The allegations against him may raise eyebrows, but they also expose uncomfortable truths: regulators often earn incomes comparable to industry players, and living above one’s means is hardly unusual in public service.
Efforts to mandate public officials to use public schools and hospitals for their families have stalled in the National Assembly—an indication of how deeply normalized privilege has become.
Over nearly four decades, Ahmed developed close ties with petrol importers. At PPMC, he wielded import licensing power like a commercial operator. As a regulator, he retained that mindset, earning a reputation as a guardian of the rentier status quo rather than an impartial umpire.
The Godfathers of Oil Rent
Nigeria’s oil rent elite—borrowing from Yergin—are fiercely resisting the disruption Dangote’s refinery represents. Ahmed was not the final line of defence, only a symbol.
Just as Dangote reportedly wonders why he invested $20 billion in a refinery, the state may privately regret granting the licence at all.
This is ultimately a struggle for market share, profit, and control over what Yergin described as “the world’s biggest and most pervasive business.” Vested interests that once hid behind public bureaucracy are now confronting a private player capable of changing the game.
It’s the Rent, Stupid
Incumbents rarely admit they are protecting rents. Instead, they claim to be protecting “the system.” Yet decades of fuel importation have drained billions of dollars, encouraged low-quality products, and sustained patronage networks.
An estimated ₦11.35 trillion spent on failed refinery repairs has largely vanished into private pockets. Continued imports sustain foreign exchange arbitrage, subsidy-era privileges, and scarcity-driven political leverage.
This is the state’s dilemma: reforms would dilute discretion, expose corruption, and dismantle rents. Ahmed’s fight was the system’s fight. His removal may well be a strategic reset rather than genuine reform.
Monopolist at Work?
Does Dangote seek monopoly power? Possibly. Is his campaign altruistic? Unlikely.
But had the regulator acted like a regulator instead of an antagonist, it would have:
- Tackled moribund state refineries and inactive licence holders, and
- Enforced transparent pricing under the Petroleum Industry Act.
Instead, Ahmed remained tied to old habits—fuel imports, arbitrage, patronage, and power built on scarcity.
Dangote must recognise that Ahmed was only a symptom. The real test is whether his removal leads to accountability. If Ahmed is not investigated and held to account—or cleared—then his fall would merely confirm that the system has once again protected itself.
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