Aliyu Ayuba next to his jerry cans. Photo credit: Claire Mom/TheCableAbayomi Alade, a taxi driver in Abuja, Nigeria’s capital, is unhappy. Beads of sweat run down his face as his chest heaves with frustration at the fuel queue in a filling station at Mbora, Idu. He groans loudly, hurling curses at the other motorists attempting to cut corners in the queue.
“You can’t blame me. I graduated in 2015 with a diploma in computer education but I haven’t had a job since then,” he tells TheCable.“I buy fuel from the black market station so that I can have food,” he says, adding that his profit of at least N4,000 per day covers just enough.“I want to see a line from here to SIL estate,” he points into the distance dramatically, “because if you stay on the line for too long and you have somewhere else to go, you will have no option but to buy my own.
A few metres away, a trio of Bagudu’s colleagues chat happily under a shade. Next to them are empty jerry cans of fuel as they reminisce on their sales for the day. Perhaps, an early close of business is their way of marking their one-year anniversary of constant sales. Really, it is exactly one year since Abuja started experiencing fuel scarcity.
MBuhari nnpclimited MKKyari GarShehu ZShamsuna femigbaja nassnigeria HETimipreSylva One full year in the f&cking capital of a country
MBuhari nnpclimited MKKyari GarShehu ZShamsuna femigbaja nassnigeria HETimipreSylva Ask the IPMAN and fuel station owners