Connect with us

Opinion

The Evil Of Casual Labour

Published

on

For Timiebi Aligbali, a casual staff with the Kubwa Unit of the Power Holding Company Of Nigeria (PHCN, Abuja, February 11, 2010 was just another day on the job.

He had done the same job for 11 years since he was engaged as a casual worker for the PHCN after completing a Diploma course in electrical engineering.

But the day turned out to be his final on the job as he was electrocuted when he climbed an electric pole to effect some repairs.

Expectedly, his death was greeted with some protest by other casual workers of the Kubwa unit of the PHCN.

Some of the protesters, who spoke with journalists, said they were angry that the management of the PHCN did not comply with the rules which forbade casual workers from climbing poles.

The casual workers, by the rule guiding their engagement, are also forbidden from engaging in other life threatening activities of the power company.

But for Aligbali’s wife and little daughter, the loss of their bread winner was particularly devastating because casual staff are not entitled to anything from their employers.

“The situation is particularly bad because the casual worker is not entitled to even a funeral grant,” laments Sylvestre Aligbali, the late PHCN worker’s uncle.

Records from the PHCN shows that the company has thousands of casual labourers across the nation, especially in the main cities.

Incidentally, it is not only PHCN that is host to so many casual labourers.

Statistics from the Nigeria Labour Congress (NLC) show that a bulk of workers in the Telecommunication, Oil and Gas sectors are casual labourers.

Other sectors with thousands of casual labourers include mining, steel, banking and insurance.

A recent report by the Campaign for Democratic and Workers’ Rights in Nigeria, an NGO dealing with labour issues, said recently that 45 per cent of Nigeria’s labour force is made up of casual workers.

The report expressed the fear that the situation would only worsen as employers seek out ways to reduce cost of doing business.

Chief Olumide Adeyemi, a legal practitioner, who specialises in Labour law describes ‘casualisation’ as a working arrangement that is not permanent in nature.

“It does not fall within the traditional standard employment relationship,” he said.

According to him, workers in this arrangement do not have a permanent job status and do not get the same pay and benefits as their regular permanent counterparts doing the same job and working the same hours.

Adeyemi said that the continued engagement of casual labourers was at variance with provisions of section 17 (a) of the Constitution, which guarantees “equal pay for equal work”.

“The section frowns against discrimination on account of sex, or any other ground whatsoever and so the discrimination in pay between permanent and casual employees should not exist,” he said.

He lamented that many casual employees do not have letters of employment while many companies do not have records of their casual employees in order to evade the law.

Tracing the history of casualisation of workers in Nigeria, Mr Chinedu Alozie, a senior lecturer in the Department of Industrial Relations, University of Lagos, said that it became a feature of the Nigerian labour market in the late 1980s.

“It became prominent when the country adopted the Structural Adjustment Programme (SAP) in line with the neo-liberal policies prescribed by the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank.”

According to Alozie, one of the effects of this policy was the retrenchment of workers in the public sector, which created large scale unemployment.

“The private sector, which was to be strengthened by government policies to absorb these workers, could not absorb all the retrenched workers from the public sector. “Because of that, many of the workers were employed as casual and contract workers with low remuneration, limited benefits and lack of right to organise,” he said.

To protect the contract workers, the International Labour Organisation(ILO) in 1998 declared in Philadelphia that its member must “respect, promote and safeguard the principles concerning the fundamental rights at work”.

The Declaration, although not binding in international law, suggests that member countries have an obligation to respect and promote the fundamental principles involved, whether or not they have ratified the relevant ILO Conventions.

Incidentally, Nigeria has ratified the ILO Convention and is thus obliged to uphold it.

Again, the African Charter, which has been enacted as an Act of Nigeria’s National Assembly, provides in Article 15 that, “every individual shall have the right to work under equitable and satisfactory conditions’’.

The Act also says that all Nigerians must receive “equal pay for equal work”.

Specifically, the Act states that there should not be any form of discrimination in employment between standard workers and their nonstandard counterparts.

In Nigeria, the campaign against casual labour was intensified by the Nigerian trade unions in 2000, when they embarked on picketing activities on companies believed to be guilty of the offence.

But picketing has not yielded the desired result, as the incidence of temporary staffing continues.

For the casual workers, the situation is only worsened by the fact that they are not part of any trade union as they are not fully employed.

Although there has not been much struggle against casual staffing, the NLC says it has not yet relented in its effort to fight against the use of casual staff.

NLC General Secretary, John Odah, while defending the lull in the union’s fight against temporary staffing, dismissed insinuations that the NLC has lost the fight against casualisation.

“On the contrary, the fight against casual or contract staffing by employers in the country is still on and we are planning to take it up as a big issue soon,” he said.

Odah, however, accused government of being indifferent to the plight of such category of workers.

“That indeed compounds the problem,” he said.

 He argued that it was the responsibility of the Ministry of Labour and Productivity to see to the welfare of Nigerian workers and ensure that they are treated fairly and justly.

He lamented that government agencies, which should aid labour activities in the country, have joined employers to violate labour laws.

“The Ministry has been empowered by the constitution to safeguard workers, but unfortunately, they have not been doing their job,” he said.

Adeyemi, the legal practitioner, agrees with Odah and blames government for not creating adequate policies that will regulate labour relations.

Adeyemi identified food, steel, beverage and engineering outfits as the worst culprits, saying that the unions have tried in vain to end the trend.

But government said recently that it was doing its best to check the trend by applying the right laws.

According to the immediate past Minister of Labour and Productivity Adetokunboh Kayode, the Federal Government has advocated an “effective law” as a means of eliminating the casualisation of staff.

“The moment a law is enacted, everything will be in place, and the idea of casualisation will be eliminated,” he said.

For Mr Dimeji Bankole, Speaker, House of Representatives, the trend is “a very unfriendly labour practice”.

“Casualisation undermines the productivity and efficiency of Nigeria workers,” he told members of the House recently.

He said it was in a bid to forestall such practice that the new labour bill was being carefully studied in the House.

But Mr Peter Akpatason, immediate past President, National Union of Petroleum and Natural Gas Workers (NUPENG), believes that government must go beyond pronouncements and do the right thing to check the trend.

He described casualisation as “one evil that has for long remained the bane of the oil industry”.

“NUPENG has made lots of efforts to tackle the problem of casualisation in the oil and gas sector by seeking to convert all contract workers to permanent employees.

“The advent of this global inhuman staffing strategy, which only takes congnisance of cost reductions for investors, has resulted in a gradual drift from decent work to the most precarious work relationship.

“It constitutes the single largest and most contentious challenge to unions worldwide and needs to be quickly addressed by government.”

Mohammed writes for NAN.

 

Zainab Mohammed

Continue Reading

Opinion

Fubara’s Strategic Masterstroke

Published

on

Quote:”What sets this administration apart is not just the volume of projects but their strategic coherence. Each road, bridge, and seaport initiative forms part of an integrated economic master plan that places Rivers State at the heart of Nigeria’s maritime future”
In the evolving narrative of Rivers State’s infrastructural transformation, Governor Siminalayi Fubara is quietly but decisively carving out a new economic roadmap—one anchored on strategic connectivity, blue economy exploration, and sustainable development. His recent inspection of the 13.5-kilometre Oyorokoto Road in Andoni and the visionary Trans-Kalabari Road project underline a bold ambition: to reposition Rivers State as the economic gateway of the Niger Delta and a key player in Nigeria’s emerging maritime economy. The Oyorokoto Road, slated for completion and commissioning in March 2026, is not just a transport corridor. It is the spine of what promises to be a thriving coastal economy. Stretching from Andoni’s popular Oyorokoto Beach to the newly discovered Atlantic beachfront, the project embodies the governor’s vision of turning Rivers State’s natural endowments into engines of growth. The road’s design is strategic—it connects land to sea, trade to tourism, and communities to opportunity.
Governor Fubara’s decision to extend the road beyond the initial Oyorokoto Beach destination speaks volumes about his forward-thinking approach. Upon discovering an expansive Atlantic beachfront with immense tourism and marine potential, the governor ordered the extension of the project—transforming it into what he aptly called “the pathway to the blue economy.” This statement encapsulates a shift in governance philosophy: from mere infrastructure delivery to economic diversification and sustainability. The blue economy, which encompasses maritime transport, fisheries, coastal tourism, and renewable energy, offers Rivers State a new frontier for wealth creation. With Oyorokoto’s proximity to the Atlantic Ocean, deep-sea exploration, aquaculture, and ocean-based tourism can thrive. Governor Fubara’s plan to develop activities around the seafront—hospitality, logistics, and marine services—will not only attract investors but also create jobs for local communities long isolated by geography and neglect.
The significance of the Oyorokoto project also lies in its symbolism. It signals a shift from oil-dependent infrastructure to climate-conscious development. The governor’s insistence on conquering difficult terrains to connect Andoni’s coastal communities underscores his administration’s commitment to inclusion and balanced growth. For decades, these communities have watched from the margins as the mainland prospered. Now, they are being woven into the state’s economic fabric. But the true genius of Fubara’s strategy emerges when viewed alongside the Trans-Kalabari Road project, a monumental undertaking designed to link several island communities in the Kalabari axis to the mainland. The first phase, which terminates at Bakana, is already being celebrated as a historic project with transformative economic implications. Beyond mere connectivity, Bakana’s deep-sea potential positions it as a future hub for maritime trade, shipbuilding, and logistics—key pillars of the blue economy.
By aligning the Trans-Kalabari and Oyorokoto projects, Governor Fubara is weaving a coastal development network that will fundamentally alter the geography of commerce in Rivers State. Once completed, these roads will not only ease movement but open up access to virgin coastlines, attract tourism, and stimulate private investment. In essence, Fubara is building corridors of prosperity across the state’s most difficult terrains. The governor’s unannounced stop at the Kalaibiama-Epellema Road in Opobo/Nkoro Local Government Area further underscores his personal commitment to follow-through. His inspection of the piling work at the Epellema bridge site reveals a hands-on leader determined to ensure that no project lingers on paper. In a region where infrastructure is often hindered by terrain and politics, Fubara’s approach reflects courage and vision in equal measure.
What sets this administration apart is not just the volume of projects but their strategic coherence. Each road, bridge, and seaport initiative forms part of an integrated economic master plan that places Rivers State at the heart of Nigeria’s maritime future. The synergy between the Trans-Kalabari and Oyorokoto corridors will create a seamless coastal belt that can support tourism, fisheries, and inter-island commerce—stimulating both rural and urban economies. Governor Fubara’s economic strategy is also deeply political in the most constructive sense. By investing heavily in long-neglected coastal communities, he is rebuilding trust in government and expanding the social contract. He understands that prosperity must be inclusive, and that true development is not measured merely in kilometers of asphalt but in livelihoods transformed. Critics may view these projects as ambitious, but ambition is the currency of progress.
Fubara’s determination to beat the terrain and deliver projects on schedule is a lesson in leadership under constraint. In the face of financial and environmental challenges, he is proving that development can be both visionary and pragmatic. The broader implication of these infrastructural moves is clear: Rivers State is transitioning from an oil-dependent economy to a diversified, ocean-driven one. The integration of deep-sea potential at Bakana, tourism assets at Oyorokoto, and bridge connectivity at Epellema points toward a strategic blueprint that could redefine the Niger Delta’s development model. As March 2026 draws closer, the Oyorokoto Road will stand not merely as a physical link between Andoni’s communities and the Atlantic but as a symbol of a government that sees beyond the present. It will represent a bridge to new possibilities—economic, social, and environmental.
In the final analysis, Governor Siminalayi Fubara’s economic masterstroke lies in his ability to turn geography into destiny. By connecting land to sea and people to prosperity, he is charting a course that could make Rivers State not just the treasure base of the nation, but the anchor of Nigeria’s blue economy in the 21st century.
 Ibim is a seasoned Journalist, political analyst and public affairs commentator.
By: Amieye-ofori Ibim
Continue Reading

Opinion

Tradition or idolatry? The Debate Over Nhe-Ajoku 

Published

on

Quote:“But when it becomes cloaked in mystery and secrecy, it risks breeding fear and abuse. 
In the heart of Ikwerre land, nestled among the green stretches of Rivers State, lies Omerelu  a community steeped in heritage and rhythm. Here, the people gather every two years for the Nhe-Ajoku, the bi-annual New Yam Festival that marks the harvest season, the renewal of gratitude, and the reaffirmation of kinship with the land. Debate It is a time when the yam, known as “the king of crops,” takes centre stage. The festival begins in joy and ends in solemnity, as the community offers thanks to the Almighty for sustenance and peace. At the climax of the celebration comes Nkwa-Nhe-Ajoku, a sacred dirge performed only by the initiated. By long-held custom, it forbids the Igbo people  from witnessing it irrespective of how long they have lived among them (Omerelu people) . The dirge, performed in secrecy and deep reverence, closes both the spiritual and physical chapters of the festival.
Yet, as the years pass, questions are rising within Omerelu: what still lies at the heart of this ceremony? Has the spirit of thanksgiving been overshadowed by practices that no longer serve the wellbeing of our people? The call to abandon idle worship that is, the worship of lifeless objects or empty rituals  grows louder. For many, the time has come to separate what uplifts the community from what diminishes it. Tradition, when rightly kept, preserves identity. But when it becomes cloaked in mystery and secrecy, it risks breeding fear and abuse. The dirge that once bound the people in reverence now occasionally divides them by secrecy. To the devout Christian, the festival’s spiritual dimension raises moral questions. Can thanksgiving to God be mixed with homage to carved symbols or ancestral forces? Must reverence be expressed through objects rather than through the heart?
Within Omerelu Community , elders recall that the first purpose of Nhe-Ajoku was gratitude  not idol worship. It was to honour hard work, the soil, and divine providence, not to erect shrines to shadows. But today, the week that should bring peace and brotherhood sometimes ends in conflict, theft, and fear. Livestock disappear. Goats and fowls vanish in the night. Some justify it as ritual entitlement; others call it ‘fast finger’. This is where the red flag must rise. A festival of peace cannot thrive in the smoke of wrongdoing. If Nhe-Ajoku becomes an excuse for moral decay, it loses its sacredness. Let the people of Omerelu remember: a tradition that harms its own people ceases to be culture it becomes bondage. It is not the festival itself that is at fault, but the way it is practised. When men hide behind masquerades to seize property, when youths interpret freedom as license, when the dirge becomes a cover for intimidation, the festival must be re-examined.
This conversation must happen without fear or sentiment. The Ikwerre person is proud, industrious, and deeply spiritual. We need not abandon our heritage to embrace truth. Rather, we must purify it, as gold is refined by fire. To understand where we stand, it helps to look back at FESTAC ’77  the Second World Black and African Festival of Arts and Culture, held in Lagos in 1977. It was a grand showcase of African identity, heritage, and pride. For a moment, the black world united under one banner of culture and art. Yet, in hindsight, some critics raised warnings. They argued that Nigeria, in trying to celebrate culture, unconsciously revived old spiritual practices that blurred the line between art and idolatry. A respected cleric once said FESTAC ’77 “handed Nigeria over to idols,” claiming it marked the beginning of the country’s moral confusion.
 Whether one agrees or not, it stands as a cautionary tale: culture without conscience can lead to chaos. So too in Omerelu, Nhe-Ajoku must not become a miniature FESTAC grand in display but hollow in purpose. The harvest must be about life, not lifeless worship. If a festival meant for peace turns into a spree of theft and intimidation, then the red flag flutters over the village square. Our elders must rise to correct this trend. Chiefs, youths, and women leaders must come together to reclaim the true essence of Nhe-Ajoku: thanksgiving, unity, and renewal. The dirge, Nkwa-Nhe-Ajoku, should retain its dignity and secrecy for those qualified, but its purpose must be explained clearly to the younger generation. Secrecy without explanation breeds suspicion and rebellion. Instead of exclusion, let there be understanding. Festivals should strengthen bonds, not stretch divisions.
Omerelu must show that tradition and modern faith can coexist, that the people can celebrate harvest without bowing to idols, can sing ancestral songs without losing moral clarity, can dance without looting. We must also redefine the meaning of worship. Worship is not about objects but obedience; not about rituals but righteousness; not about noise but truth. The younger generation watches keenly. If we hand them confusion, they will discard our culture. But if we hand them purpose, they will preserve it proudly. Let every yam harvested remind us that blessings come through toil, not through spirits or symbols. Let the sound of the drum call us to unity, not to indulgence. The red flag has been raised  not to condemn Omerelu, but to caution it. The line between reverence and ruin is thin; we must tread it carefully. If we reform Nhe-Ajoku today, we will hand to our children a festival worthy of pride.
 If we ignore the signs, we risk turning celebration into regret. Let’s celebrate hard work again by ensuring that our yams are from our yams, not Hausa yams. Our chickens and goats should also come from our farms. I , being a bonafide offspring of Nhe-ajoku adherence, know too well that agric (poultry fowl) and Hausa goats were never anywhere near the ‘Ajoku Shrine’, but now, the reverse is the case. The implication? People are no longer interested.However, let this year, and every year henceforth, mark a new beginning: a Nhe-Ajoku of peace, honesty, and gratitude   that honours our Creator. The yam is life, but life must be pure. Let the dirge speak truth again. Let the red flag remind us  when culture forgets conscience, it ceases to be culture. And when the drums of Nkwa-Nhe-Ajoku sound again in Omerelu, may they beat not for idols, but for renewal, justice, and peace.
By: King Onunwor
Continue Reading

Opinion

Should The Internet Go Bust

Published

on

Quote:”. Whereas it sounds apocalyptic, yet experts have long warned that a total internet collapse, whether from cyberwarfare, global technical failure, or coordinated attacks on undersea cables, could paralyze the world far beyond imagination”
We now live in a world that so much relies on technology, especially on digital communication networks and data services. Virtually every aspect of our life depends on the efficient functioning of machines. In view of this reliance, imagine waking up to a world where the internet simply goes dark. For advanced countries where the functionality, monitoring and data storage of surveillance, security and nuclear installations, all rely on electronics and networks, the disruption could be catastrophic. On the other hand, for developing nations like Nigeria where government’s  response is usually slow, the implications would be socially and economically disastrous. It would imply the sudden evaporation of all the modern conveniences we have taken for granted. No online banking. No emails. No mobile transfers. No WhatsApp messages, Twitter feeds or digital government portals.
The collapse would expose a dangerous dependency, the centralization of personal data. In Nigeria’s multi-biometric systems, the Bank Verification Number (BVN), the National Identification Number (NIN), and SIM registration for mobile networks, are all cloud-based. With no internet, access to these databases would be lost. Banks could not verify customers; telecom operators could not authenticate SIMs; and government agencies would be unable to issue new IDs or validate old ones.In Nigeria, over 80% of financial transactions now occur digitally, thanks to the rapid adoption of fintech platforms such as Opay, PalmPay, Paga, and the Central Bank Nigeria’s eNaira initiative. Assets of companies worth trillions of naira are also stored digitally and transacted on the Nigerians Stock Exchange. Like other transactions, these have no certified paper backings other than electronic storages.
It means that the wealth and wellbeing of millions now lie at the mercy of machines. According to the Nigeria Inter-Bank Settlement System (NIBSS), in 2024 alone, the value of electronic payments in Nigeria reached ?600 trillion. Whereas it sounds apocalyptic, yet experts have long warned that a total internet collapse, whether from cyberwarfare, global technical failure, or coordinated attacks on undersea cables, could paralyze the world far beyond imagination. A total internet blackout would instantly freeze the banking system as banks lose interconnectivity, making transfers, withdrawals, and payments impossible. Fintech companies would go offline, cutting off millions from access to their digital wallets, while Point-of-Sale (PoS) operators, who depend on network connections for every transaction, would be stranded.The economy would revert overnight to cash dependence.
But cash, already scarce due to the CBN’s currency redesign and digital push, would not circulate fast enough to meet demands. Markets would collapse into panic, and trust in banks could erode within hours. Modern governance in Nigeria has increasingly depended on digital infrastructure, using e-government portals to handle licensing, pension records, procurements, revenue collection and budget management. An internet collapse would send governance back to the analogue age. Ministries would lose coordination, digital files would be inaccessible and online recordkeeping systems would fail.For ordinary Nigerians, the consequences would be deeply personal. Salaries paid through electronic transfers would go into limbo. Traders on Jumia, Konga, and social media marketplaces would lose their livelihoods overnight. Health and other insurance policies that currently dependent on cloud records and telemedicine would be truncated.
Even more troubling, a prolonged blackout could corrupt or erase data stored in unsecured local servers. Without connectivity to global backups, entire records, financial histories, health data, and school records, could be lost. For millions around the globe, digital amnesia would mean loss of identity, wealth and social status. Without communication, rumours would fill the void, potentially triggering civil unrests, misinformation, or even national security crises that may lead to uprisings in many countries.In a world where WhatsApp has replaced the post office and Zoom serves as boardrooms, digital communication collapse would feel like the death of modern society. Businesses would halt meetings, journalists would lose sources, students would be cut off from online learning, and diaspora remittances and family ties would suffer. Even voice calls that depend on internet routing would be impossible.
 The silence would be deafening, not just socially but economically, because communication fuels productivity. Without it, markets stall.The collapse of the internet would expose how deeply our daily survival has come to depend on invisible digital threads. If the web were to go dark tomorrow, it would not just dim our screens, it would extinguish commerce, governance, and connection itself. Already, fallouts from increasing cyber-attacks on undersea cables or satellite networks show the fragility of the situation.To preempt these eventualities, developing countries must therefore,  plan to build digital resilience. Critical data should have offline backups within national borders. Banks and fintechs must maintain local intranets or satellite-based alternatives to the public web. Radios, SMS-based, and offline mesh communication networks should be installed as alternative fallback channels.
Proactive protection of key infrastructure must become a national priority, and not reactive fire-fighting. As the internet becomes the nerve centre of modern civilization, developing economies like Nigeria, which strives for inclusion and growth, should avoid being ensnared into a blind spot by rapidly digitalizing into over-dependence. And the question is not whether the internet could collapse, but whether we can survive it when it does. A society that entrusts everything to the cloud must first learn how to breathe without it.
By; Joseph Nwankwor

 

Continue Reading

Trending