From Lekki Rover to Berger keke — Fuel subsidy has broken us all

Let’s be honest, who hasn’t done a double-take recently? You’re standing by the roadside, sweating under this relentless Nigerian sun, probably muttering about how much transport has gone up, and what pulls over? Not your regular beat-up Danfo. No, it’s a gleaming Lexus SUV, the type you only see driven by an Oga with a potbelly or a Madam dripping in gold. And the driver, looking suspiciously like an executive who forgot his tie, leans over and shouts, “Eko Hotel! VI! One-five!”

Welcome to Nigeria, May 2025 edition, where the fuel subsidy has vanished into thin air, and the supposed “elites” are now hustling at bus stops. You’ve seen the videos on TikTok and Instagram, right? Those fancy SUVs and intimidating G-Wagons, once symbols of “I’ve arrived,” are now competing with your neighbourhood Korope for N1500 passengers from Berger to Lekki. Some are even queuing at the parks, mind you, dutifully paying ‘park maintenance fees’ or ‘Agbero levy’ to the same touts they used to shoo away from their tinted windows. The irony is thicker than Lagos traffic during a downpour.

It’s almost comical if it wasn’t so tragic. Passengers who once only dreamed of sitting inside such posh interiors, the kind they see in glossy TV commercials, are now getting a 40-minute ride in relative luxury for peanuts. But here’s the kicker: can that N1500, or even N2000 as some now charge, actually break even on the fuel, let alone the maintenance of these gas-guzzling behemoths? Someone, please, do the math! We are talking about cars whose single tyre probably costs more than the average worker’s monthly minimum wage.

This whole situation is the new reality show courtesy of an economy that many say is on a nosedive, seemingly beyond redemption by the current administration. Remember all that talk about “palliatives”? Well, the biggest palliative seems to be watching the high and mighty get a taste of the everyday Nigerian hustle. As one user on Twitter (@NaijaSharpShooter,) put it, “My landlord with a Prado now does Uber. We are all in this shege together!”

The government told us removing the subsidy was a bitter pill we had to swallow for a healthier future. Instead, it feels like we’ve swallowed a rock, and it’s stuck in our collective throat. Fuel prices have shot through the roof, dragging the cost of everything else – from a cup of garri to the rent for a face-me-i-face-you – along with them. One report I stumbled upon (News Express Nigeria, May 2025) detailed how even salaried professionals are turning their private cars into makeshift taxis just to make ends meet. It’s no longer about status; it’s about survival.

So, when people ask, “Can fuel be subsidised a bit to make everyone look and act so poor to the barest minimum?” – you can almost hear the sarcasm dripping. It’s not about looking poor; it is poor. We are talking about a nation where, even before this latest round of economic wahala, a staggering percentage of the world’s poorest individuals resided. Now? Everyone is jumping into all sorts of money-making ventures. The user who sparked this train of thought even cheekily added, “except that some people can’t rob anymore. Because, how do you rob your fellow broke-poor man?” It’s gallows humour, but it hits home, doesn’t it?

What’s the way out? If I had the magic answer, I’d be in Aso Rock, not writing this. But one thing is clear: the current strategy of “suffer now, enjoy later” feels like “suffer now, and suffer some more.” The Afrobarometer survey released in March 2025 paints a grim picture: over 90% of Nigerians feel the country is going in the wrong direction, and a whopping 85% disapprove of the fuel subsidy removal. People are not just complaining; they are reporting shortages of food, medical care, and water.

Perhaps the “elites” now rubbing shoulders with common folk at the motor parks will have a change of heart. Perhaps seeing the country from the driver’s seat of a taxi, rather than the owner’s corner of an SUV, will provide some much-needed perspective. Or maybe, just maybe, they’ll just figure out how to charge N5000 for that Berger to VI trip.

One thing is for sure, the internet doesn’t lie. The memes, the skits, the angry rants – they all paint a picture of a nation on the edge. The government needs to do more than just tell us to tighten our belts; many Nigerians no longer have belts, let alone fresh holes to punch in them. We need real, tangible solutions, not just front-row seats to the humbling of the Land Cruiser class. Because right now, it feels less like a carefully planned economic reform and more like a national reality TV show titled “Everybody Don Broke.” And trust me, no one is enjoying this season.