Poison for profit: How greed is putting Nigerians lives at risk

By Osordi Ayomide
What exactly are Nigerians eating, drinking, swallowing and applying to their bodies? The question sounds simple, but recent events have made it increasingly difficult to answer with certainty. In recent months, allegations of chemicals being used to accelerate the processing of fufu, industrial dyes allegedly being added to palm oil, adulterated groundnut oil, counterfeit medicines, expired food products, fake skincare products and other substandard goods have continued to spread.
The recent controversy surrounding the fufu and palm oil in the market may have brought the issue back into public limelight. However, the problem itself is far from new. What is increasingly disturbing is the possibility that, in the pursuit of quick profit, some individuals are becoming willing to compromise the health and safety of fellow Nigerians.
And this is not a problem that can simply be blamed on unbranded food products sold by roadside traders or in open markets. Counterfeiters have demonstrated repeatedly that almost anything with commercial value can be replicated. The controversy surrounding allegedly fake Azul alcoholic products, for instance, showed how even expensive and recognisable brands can become targets of counterfeiting. Similar concerns have been raised over skincare products and other consumer goods reportedly manufactured locally or brought into the country at cheaper prices. In an economy where inflation has made basic necessities increasingly expensive, consumers may be attracted to cheaper alternatives. But when “cheap” comes at the cost of safety, the eventual price may be far higher. The money saved on a bottle of oil, cosmetic, food product or medicine could eventually be spent treating a health problem that should never have occurred.
Naturally, much of the public anger has been directed at the National Agency for Food and Drug Administration and Control (NAFDAC), given its statutory responsibility for regulating food, drugs and other products within its mandate. The agency’s recent clarification that primary agricultural produce such as yam, oranges and apples falls under agricultural authorities, while NAFDAC regulates products within its statutory remit, including processed and packaged foods, has nevertheless added another layer to the conversation. The reaction of NAFDAC Director-General, Prof. Mojisola Adeyeye, to a journalist’s question about calls for her resignation also attracted considerable attention, particularly because she was seen laughing before responding. Whether the laughter was misunderstood, taken out of context or simply an unfortunate reaction, the optics were troubling to many Nigerians. When people are raising concerns about products that can potentially affect their health and lives, they naturally expect seriousness, reassurance and clear answers from those entrusted with protecting them.
But Nigerians should not make the mistake of turning NAFDAC into the sole defendant in a problem that is much bigger than one agency. The Standards Organisation of Nigeria (SON) has a critical role in establishing and enforcing standards for products; the Federal Competition and Consumer Protection Commission (FCCPC) has a responsibility to protect consumers from unsafe and deceptive practices; agricultural authorities have roles concerning primary agricultural products; while the Nigeria Customs Service has an important role in preventing prohibited or substandard goods from entering the country. Other relevant agencies also have responsibilities within their respective areas of jurisdiction. The real question, therefore, is not simply which agency should be blamed, but whether these institutions are communicating and working effectively enough to close the gaps that counterfeiters and adulterators exploit.
However, Nigerians must also understand that government regulation alone cannot solve: conscience. No regulatory agency, regardless of how effective it is, can stand beside every trader, manufacturer or food processor in Nigeria every minute of every day. Someone still has to make the decision not to adulterate food. Someone has to decide that another person’s health is worth more than a few extra naira. How does anyone knowingly introduce a harmful substance into food, medicine or a consumer product meant for another human being and still describe the act simply as “business”?
Nigerians should be more cautious about unusually cheap products, suspicious packaging, expired goods and products whose source cannot be traced. But vigilance must not become panic. A viral video, social-media post or home experiment may raise suspicion, but it should not automatically be treated as scientific proof that a particular product is dangerous. Where there is credible evidence of suspected adulteration or counterfeiting, consumers should preserve the product, packaging and other useful information and report the matter to the appropriate authorities rather than relying solely on social-media accusations. Informed consumers can become an important additional layer of protection, but misinformation can be just as damaging as the problem it seeks to expose.
The bigger issue, therefore, is not whether Nigerians should be afraid of specific products in the market. It is whether we can build a system where Nigerians do not have to live in constant suspicion of the things they consume. Food safety and product quality cannot be treated as occasional issues that become important only after a viral video or public outrage.
Regulators must enforce their mandates, agencies must cooperate, businesses must put safety before profit, and consumers must remain vigilant without turning every allegation into a conviction.
At the end of the day, “profit before people” cannot become the business model of a nation. If the law cannot be everywhere, and the human conscience is absent, who bears responsibility when the poison finally finds its way to our tables, medicine cabinets and homes?
