Let us begin with numbers — because numbers do not shout, they reveal.
₦17 billion allocated for a solar microgrid at Aso Rock Presidential Villa.
Full disconnection from the national grid by March 2026. Testing underway since December 2025. ₦47 billion annually reportedly spent on electricity at the Villa.
These figures demand not outrage, but interrogation.
Globally, renewable energy transition is no longer optional — it is strategic. The United States has committed hundreds of billions of dollars under green transition policies. China dominates global solar manufacturing. Europe has accelerated solar and wind adoption in response to energy insecurity. Across Africa, countries are repositioning.
South Africa has expanded embedded generation policies to ease pressure on Eskom. Kenya generates over 80% of its electricity from renewables, primarily geothermal and hydro. Morocco has invested heavily in large-scale solar complexes like Noor Ouarzazate. Egypt is expanding Benban Solar Park. Rwanda is scaling mini-grids for rural electrification.
Renewable energy is the direction of the future. Nigeria should not lag behind.
But here is the paradox: while the Presidency embraces renewable autonomy, the national grid remains fragile. Nigeria continues to experience recurring grid collapses. Manufacturing output has struggled amid energy instability. According to industry bodies, manufacturers spend a substantial portion of operational costs on self-generated electricity — often powered by diesel. Some sectors report energy accounting for 30–40% of total production cost.
Factories scale down. SMEs shut doors. Investors calculate risk premiums. The cost of doing business rises. Electricity is not merely a utility; it is economic oxygen.
Now consider this contrast:
The Presidency is preparing to permanently disengage from the grid because it is unreliable and expensive.
If the national grid cannot reliably power Aso Rock, what confidence should industry have?
The reported ₦47 billion annual electricity bill at the Villa raises urgent questions. Even accounting for diesel backup systems and high-capacity demand, that figure is staggering. Nigerians deserve transparency on what drives that cost structure.
If a ₦17 billion solar investment can substantially reduce or eliminate a ₦47 billion recurring expense, then the economic logic is compelling. The payback period appears short. The savings potentially significant.
But then comes the unavoidable question:
Why has similar urgency not been applied to federal hospitals? To public universities? To industrial parks? To research institutions?
If decentralized renewable systems are economically rational for Aso Rock, they are equally rational for federal teaching hospitals battling power interruptions during surgeries.
They are rational for industrial clusters struggling under diesel burden. They are rational for rural electrification.
Renewable energy should not be symbolic. It should be systemic.
Nigeria’s manufacturing sector has faced contraction pressures. Rising energy costs compound inflationary stress. The Manufacturers Association of Nigeria has repeatedly cited power instability as a primary constraint on productivity.
When industries collapse or scale down, unemployment rises. When unemployment rises, purchasing power shrinks. When purchasing power shrinks, economic growth weakens.
Energy instability cascades.
Against this backdrop, the solar transition at the Presidency risks appearing insulated rather than integrated.
Let us be clear: there is nothing wrong with securing stable power at Aso Rock. National security demands redundancy. Diesel dependency is inefficient and costly. Solar adoption is modern governance.
The issue is not adoption. It is distribution.
The government’s “Renewed Hope” mantra rests on structural transformation. But hope must be experienced in tangible infrastructure.
Hope must be measurable in megawatts delivered nationwide.
Hope must be reflected in reduced collapse frequency.
Hope must be visible in factories operating without interruption.
If renewable transition is the strategy, publish the roadmap.
What is the megawatt target for federal institutions?
What is the timeline for grid modernization?
What proportion of federal capital expenditure is earmarked for decentralized renewables beyond Aso Rock?
Global renewable advancement is not selective. It is layered and inclusive. Governments move executive buildings, yes — but they simultaneously roll out nationwide frameworks.
Without that broader architecture, perception hardens. And perception matters.
When citizens paying higher Band A tariffs sit in darkness while the Presidency secures uninterrupted supply, the narrative writes itself.
Energy inequality widens when those with capital escape grid fragility while the majority remain captive to it. Policy should narrow that divide.
There is also the matter of reform urgency. Shared vulnerability accelerates reform. When leaders experience systemic fragility alongside citizens, repair becomes imperative. When insulation sets in, momentum can slow.
Nigeria’s power sector has undergone privatization, recapitalization, tariff reform, and restructuring over the past decade. Citizens have borne the financial consequences.
Now they witness executive disengagement. The Federal Government faces a defining choice.
It can allow this solar transition to stand as an isolated executive solution. Or it can frame it as Phase One of a nationwide renewable transformation anchored in transparency, scalability, and accountability.
The latter strengthens confidence. The former deepens skepticism.
Nigeria should be leading West Africa in renewable deployment. With abundant sunlight, vast land, and energy demand, the country possesses enormous potential. Solar mini-grids could power rural communities. Industrial solar clusters could stabilize production. Public infrastructure could transition gradually but decisively.
But reform must not appear concentrated at the top.
The ₦17 billion solar investment at Aso Rock will be judged not by its panels, but by its precedent. Does it signal systemic transformation — or selective illumination?
Renewed Hope cannot become an albatross weighed down by visible asymmetry. Hope must circulate.
Electricity must circulate. Because a nation is not powered by one compound. It is powered by shared systems.
And leadership is not measured by how brightly the Presidency shines.
It is measured by whether the republic shines with it.
*Ogundipe, Public Affairs Analyst, former President Nigeria and Africa Union of Journalists writes from Abuja
