There is something deeply unsettling about being told to watch what you eat when you have no realistic means of knowing what has been put into it. The consumer sees the colour of the fruit, the freshness of the vegetables, the clarity of the oil, and the appearance of the grain. What remains invisible is the chemical food contamination, the industrial dye, the substance used to accelerate ripening, or the toxic preservative introduced along the supply chain. This crisis of food safety in Nigeria is becoming an increasingly difficult subject for authorities to dismiss.
Nigeria is telling consumers to be careful. But who is telling the poisoners to be afraid?
In August, former Vice President Yemi Osinbajo recounted how his wife, Dolapo, switched from carbonated drinks to fresh orange juice, only for an unexplained health problem to follow. A sample sent to a laboratory reportedly returned a verdict that described the juice as unfit for human consumption. The account is disturbing, but it must be treated as an anecdote. The specific laboratory report, the precise contaminant, its concentration, and any causal connection with the reported illness have not been publicly established.
Yet the anecdote opens a much larger and more consequential question: who is actively policing what goes into the national food basket?
Global Threats and Food Safety in Nigeria
The question has acquired greater urgency following the World Health Organisation’s latest global estimates of foodborne disease. WHO estimates that contaminated food caused about 866 million illnesses and 1.52 million deaths globally in 2021. Chemical hazards alone accounted for roughly 73 per cent of deaths attributed to contaminated food.
These figures are global, but they expose the scale of a threat that cannot be reduced to stomach upset or occasional food poisoning. Some chemical contaminants contribute to cancers, cardiovascular disease, and neurological damage. Lead and arsenic remain major contributors to chemical-related deaths in the WHO estimates, with children being particularly vulnerable.
And there is an important warning buried in the WHO’s methodology. Several significant hazards, including pesticide residues, antimicrobial resistance, and PFAS, were excluded from current estimates because available data was insufficient. That is not evidence that these hazards are absent; it is evidence of a dangerous blind spot. What is not measured does not cease to exist—it simply becomes invisible.
The Federal Ministry of Health stated in June that the country records nearly 50 million foodborne illnesses annually, with more than 53,000 deaths and 4.26 million healthy life years lost. While these figures cover the broader disease burden, the Ministry separately identified chemical hazards, including lead contamination, as an emerging and serious concern.
The Reality of Chemical Food Contamination
Nigeria’s food crisis is not a single problem. It encompasses microbial contamination, poor hygiene, unsafe water, inadequate storage, improper handling, chemical misuse, and deliberate adulteration. The most disturbing cases are those in which dangerous substances are introduced deliberately because somebody believes the commercial advantage is worth the risk to human health.
Evidence shows this is not merely theoretical. Regulatory authorities have repeatedly warned against the use of dichlorvos—popularly associated with products like Sniper—to preserve food. Small volume dichlorvos products of 100ml or less marketed as Sniper have been banned since 2019, while larger quantities are restricted to certified agrochemical outlets. Yet, traders continue to apply it to beans, stockfish, and crayfish.
Research highlights further risks across urban markets:
- Ado Ekiti (2024): A study among fruit sellers found that half of the 20 sellers surveyed reported using calcium carbide for fruit ripening, alongside very poor knowledge of the health risks.
- Uyo: A study involving fruit sellers revealed that about a quarter had used calcium carbide at some point.
- Lagos: A survey of 50 fruit and vegetable retailers showed 22 reported using chemicals for preservation, including Gammalin 20, Sniper, aluminium phosphide, DDT, and calcium carbide.
- Benin City (2023): Laboratory testing of seven palm oil samples collected from open markets found Sudan IV—a carcinogenic industrial dye—in four samples, with quantities ranging from 21.7 to 29.5 milligrams per litre.
- Rivers State (July 2026): A study reported detergent residues in commercially processed fufu samples from two communities alongside high microbial loads.
Strengthening NAFDAC Regulation and State Enforcement
The state does not lack institutions. NAFDAC regulation exists alongside the Federal Ministry of Health, the Standards Organisation of Nigeria (SON), agricultural authorities, state governments, and law enforcement agencies. Legislation already prohibits the production, sale, and distribution of unwholesome processed food.
Furthermore, Nigeria has begun building the necessary framework. The Federal Ministry of Health’s National Integrated Guidelines for Foodborne Disease Surveillance and Response provide for laboratory confirmation, outbreak investigation, traceback, recall, and risk communication. The central problem is what happens after detection.
Where was the sample collected? What exactly was detected? Which laboratory performed the test? Was the source traced backwards through the adulterated food supply chain? Were potentially affected products recalled? Was anybody investigated, prosecuted, or convicted?
A warning is not enforcement. A press conference is not enforcement. Seizing a few bags of contaminated food is only the start of the process. The objective of regulation is to make breaking the rules sufficiently costly that the next offender thinks twice.
Fixing the Adulterated Food Supply Chain
The economics of food adulteration are stark. The person who introduces a cheap chemical, dilutes a product, or accelerates ripening captures immediate profit. The consumer carries the risk, the family carries the medical cost, and the economy carries the lost human capital. The World Bank previously estimated that foodborne disease imposed about US$6 billion in productivity losses on Nigeria in 2016.
The Federal Government must move the conversation beyond telling citizens to wash their produce or shop carefully. A mother cannot become a food chemist before buying oranges, and a worker cannot test palm oil before cooking dinner. The responsibility for detecting invisible hazards belongs to the regulatory system.
Nigeria requires a risk-based national chemical surveillance programme covering high-risk points in the supply chain. Laboratory capacity must be strengthened, supply chains mapped, and product recalls made demonstrable. NAFDAC, health authorities, agriculture agencies, SON, customs, and prosecutors must operate as one cohesive enforcement chain.
Finally, the government should publish an annual food safety enforcement report detailing test numbers, failure rates, recalls, prosecutions, and convictions. Where deliberate adulteration or reckless chemical misuse is established, the response must be swift, visible, and firm.
Nigeria cannot protect what it does not measure, and it cannot prosecute what it does not trace. The consumer has done his part by trusting the food placed before him; the state must now ensure that trust is not exploited.
