I still remember the afternoon clearly. I was a secondary school student in 2007 when a new electricity meter was installed in our house. The old NEPA had just been sold off to private investors under President Olusegun Obasanjo, and electricity had acquired a new identity: PHCN, the Power Holding Company of Nigeria. At that age, I did not understand privatisation, economic reforms, or power sector restructuring. What I understood was curiosity.
That curiosity pushed me to learn how the meter worked. I wanted to know why the numbers changed, why they sometimes moved quickly, and why at other times they barely moved at all.
I learned about kilowatt-hours and how electricity consumption was measured. I paid attention to everyday appliances in our home. How long the water heater stayed on, how much energy the pressing iron consumed, and how quickly the electric cooker drew power. I timed appliances, calculated usage, and compared my estimates with the readings on the meter.
To the best of my young understanding, the meter was honest. What we consumed was what we paid for. When electricity supply was poor, the meter hardly moved. There was something deeply reassuring about that. Even in darkness, there was fairness. Nobody felt cheated. Nobody felt robbed. We paid for light when we had it, and we did not pay for darkness.
Nearly two decades later, that early lesson in fairness stands in sharp contrast to what millions of Nigerians now experience daily in the electricity sector.
From Public Utility to Private Profit
Before privatisation, electricity in Nigeria was far from perfect. Power outages were frequent, transformers failed regularly, and voltage fluctuations damaged appliances. Yet electricity was largely treated as a social service. The government subsidised it heavily, and bills were generally affordable. People complained about inconvenience and unreliability, but few complained about being financially crushed by electricity charges.
The logic behind privatisation was not unreasonable. The reform process, anchored in the Electric Power Sector Reform Act (EPSRA) of 2005, sought to attract private investment, improve efficiency, and reduce government’s fiscal burden. Generation, transmission, and distribution were unbundled. Distribution companies (DisCos) were licensed to sell electricity, while the Nigerian Electricity Regulatory Commission (NERC) was established to regulate the sector, approve tariffs, and protect consumers.
However, privatisation proceeded without one critical foundation: universal metering. Millions of customers were transferred to private DisCos without meters, creating a structural imbalance of power between electricity providers and consumers. According to NERC industry statistics, Nigeria still has a metering gap running into several millions of customers.
That gap became the breeding ground for estimated billing.
When Estimated Billing Became a Weapon
Estimated billing was originally intended as a temporary arrangement. In theory, DisCos were to estimate consumption based on reasonable assumptions until meters could be installed. In practice, estimated billing became routine, entrenched, and exploitative.
Unmetered customers began receiving bills that bore little or no relationship to actual electricity supply. Homes that experienced prolonged outages were billed as though they enjoyed constant power. Small businesses were charged amounts that wiped out profits. Tenants fought landlords, landlords fought DisCos, and households were forced to choose between paying electricity bills and meeting basic needs.
Over time, something more corrosive than anger set in: resignation. Many Nigerians internalised the injustice. They assumed the bills must be correct because they came from an official source. Others believed there was no legal remedy. That resignation proved profitable for the DiaCos and they kept exploiting.
Pre-Capping Theft and Exploitation
I once examined the electricity statement of an unmetered customer living in a three-bedroom apartment from 2019. The customer had been billed for nearly 8,000 kilowatt-hours in a single month.
To anyone unfamiliar with electricity measurement, that number might seem abstract. To anyone with basic knowledge of energy consumption, it is indefensible. Data from the World Bank shows that average electricity consumption per capita in Nigeria is among the lowest globally. Even relatively high-consuming Nigerian households fall far below such figures.
That level of consumption is characteristic of factories and industrial facilities, not residential apartments. Yet such figures were issued casually—not as errors, not as exceptions, but as routine bills.
Energy Caps and Consumer Protection
As complaints mounted nationwide, NERC could no longer ignore the crisis. In response, the regulator introduced the Estimated Billing Methodology and Energy Caps for unmetered customers. Under this framework, DisCos are prohibited from billing unmetered customers beyond approved consumption thresholds, which are calculated based on the average usage of metered customers on the same feeder.
These energy caps are published monthly and are legally binding under NERC regulations. Any bill issued above the approved cap is unlawful.
On paper, this was a major victory for consumer protection. In reality, enforcement proved weak.
The Rules and Enforcement Dilemma
Many DisCos complied with energy caps only when challenged. Others ignored them outright. Some applied the caps selectively, while continuing to overbill customers who lacked awareness or the capacity to fight back.
The problem is not the absence of regulation. Nigeria’s electricity sector is heavily regulated. The problem is enforcement. When regulatory violations attract no meaningful penalties, compliance becomes optional. Over time, illegality becomes normalised.
This enforcement gap has serious implications for public trust. A regulatory system that cannot protect the weakest consumers loses legitimacy, no matter how well-written its rules may be.
Electricity Customers have Rights
Contrary to popular belief, Nigerian electricity customers are not powerless. NERC’s Customer Protection Regulations provide clear avenues for redress.
A customer who receives an unlawful bill has the right to:
- Submit a written complaint to the DisCo and demand adjustment
- Escalate the matter to the NERC Forum Office if unresolved
- Petition NERC headquarters if violations persist
These procedures are not discretionary. They are legal rights. But rights that are unknown are rights that cannot be exercised.
Personal Encounters
In 2022, Kaduna Electric overcharged me. I challenged the charges persistently, citing NERC regulations and energy caps. Eventually, the illegal charges were removed. In 2025, the same DisCo transferred disputed charges into my prepaid meter.
I am still challenging that action, because illegality does not become lawful by changing form. Prepaid meters are meant to protect customers, not to serve as vehicles for laundering past regulatory violations.
Why the Problem Persists
Nigeria’s electricity sector faces genuine structural challenges. Infrastructure is old, transmission capacity is limited, and the sector remains heavily subsidised. According to World Bank electricity access data, Nigeria generates and distributes far less electricity per capita than comparable economies.
These pressures are real. But they do not justify billing customers for power they did not consume. Structural weakness is not a licence for exploitation.
At its core, the crisis is one of governance. Weak enforcement, information asymmetry, and the imbalance of power between DisCos and consumers allow injustice to persist.
Conclusion
Nigeria does not suffer from a lack of electricity laws. It suffers from weak enforcement, poor consumer awareness, and regulatory capture.
A fair electricity system rests on three pillars.
First, universal metering must be treated as a non-negotiable public good, not a favour to customers. Metering eliminates disputes, restores trust, and aligns payment with reality.
Second, regulatory violations must attract real and visible penalties. Without consequences, compliance becomes optional, and injustice becomes routine.
Third, consumer education must be institutionalised, not left to individual struggle. Customers must know their rights, their remedies, and the limits of what DisCos can legally demand.
I often think back to that PHCN meter installed in our house in 2006. It was not perfect, but it was honest. That honesty—measuring what is used and charging only for what is supplied—is what Nigerians are still searching for today.
Until fairness becomes standard practice, awareness remains our strongest defence. But awareness alone cannot power a nation. Only justice, accountability, and enforcement can.
