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International Payment Systems and the Nigerian Dilemma

In an era of instant global connectivity, making or receiving an international payment remains a daunting ordeal for many Nigerians. 

A student battling to pay overseas tuition, a freelancer awaiting hard-earned wages, or a trader juggling cross-border deals—all confront a maze of high fees, restrictive policies, and inefficiencies. 

My own experiences crystallized this struggle. When attempting to subscribe to X’s premium service with a Nigerian card, I found the website blocked payments, forcing me to the app—a minor annoyance that unveiled a deeper systemic crisis. Additionally, receiving payment for my international publications forces me to use the account of an elder brother, Dr. Muhsin Ibrahim who is based in Cologne.

From PayPal’s refusal to let Nigerians receive funds to the Central Bank’s chokehold on foreign exchange, the barriers are pervasive. 

This essay probes the sociological dimensions of Nigeria’s international payment woes, weaving personal stories, statistical evidence, and the promise of blockchain technology to expose a crisis of exclusion—and chart a path toward inclusion in a globalized world.

International payment

The Human Face of Financial Isolation

Nigeria, Africa’s economic powerhouse with over 200 million people, stands as a paradox: a nation of immense potential hobbled by financial disconnection. 

Consider Chika, a freelance graphic designer in Lagos: “I’ve lost countless gigs because clients can’t pay me directly via PayPal—it’s send-only here. I lean on my cousin in the UK to collect funds, who then wires them to me. 

The stress, fees, and exchange rate losses are unbearable.” Chika’s plight is a microcosm of millions—freelancers, content creators, and small entrepreneurs—barred from the global digital economy. 

PayPal’s restrictions, enacted over fraud concerns and regulatory misalignment, aren’t just technical hurdles; they’re structural gatekeepers of opportunity.

Students face parallel struggles. Tunde, studying in Toronto, recalls: “My bank rejected my tuition payment to Canada due to dollar shortages. I converted naira to Bitcoin, then dollars—fees ate me alive, and I lived in fear of glitches.” 

For businesses, the stakes escalate. The Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) enforces stringent forex controls amid a volatile naira and shrinking reserves, pushing traders to the parallel market where rates soar. Amina, an Abuja importer, laments: “I need dollars for Chinese goods, but official channels fail me—I’m forced to use informal networks or fintechs that cost a fortune.” 

These stories reveal a sociological fault line: Nigeria’s young, ambitious population is eager to engage globally, yet shackled by systems that entrench exclusion and widen inequality.

The Scale of the Crisis: A Statistical Lens

The numbers underscore the crisis’s breadth. In 2023, Nigeria received $17.6 billion in personal remittances, among Africa’s highest, yet this inflow masks the friction of informal channels used to dodge restrictions.

Outbound payments tell a grimmer tale: 2022’s $46.5 billion in imports often faced delays or rerouting due to forex scarcity.

The World Bank notes remittances officially hit $17.2 billion in 2022, but the true figure likely balloons when accounting for backdoor methods.

Fintechs like Flutterwave and Paystack offer hope, processing billions—Flutterwave managed $9 billion in 2022—but their international reach is curtailed by fees and regulations. 

Meanwhile, Nigerians have turned to cryptocurrencies, logging $60.2 billion in transactions from July 2022 to June 2023, ranking second globally according to the Chainalysis 2023 Report. 

This isn’t mere tech enthusiasm—it’s a desperate workaround, exposing the chasm between Nigeria’s needs and its financial infrastructure.

Fintech’s Double-Edged Sword

Nigerian fintechs promise liberation, but their reality often deepens disparity. Fees of 3-5% on international transfers—sometimes higher with currency conversion—gouge small-scale users. 

Amina’s experience is telling: “I tried a fintech app for my last import payment, but the cost was so steep I returned to the black market for dollars. It’s unreliable, but predictable.” 

For a freelancer earning $1,000, losing $50 or more to fees isn’t just inconvenient—it’s a barrier to economic mobility. Sociologically, this highlights a cruel irony: innovations meant to democratize finance often fortify class divides, favoring those with capital to absorb the costs.

The CBN’s mandates compound the issue. International money transfer operators must now pay out in naira, not dollars, thwarting Nigerians needing foreign currency for trade or education. 

This policy, aimed at stabilizing the naira, instead isolates citizens from global participation, reinforcing Nigeria’s peripheral status in the world economy.

Blockchain: A Global Shift, a Nigerian Lifeline

Globally, blockchain technology is reshaping payments, slashing costs and delays via platforms like Ripple and cryptocurrencies like Bitcoin.

Nigerians are riding this wave—crypto transactions surged 20% in 2023, driven by necessity. 

Emeka, an exporter in Port Harcourt, credits Bitcoin with survival: “Banks stalled my Dubai payments for weeks. Crypto cut it to hours—imperfect, but a godsend.” His ingenuity reflects a broader trend: Nigerians adapt where systems fail.

Yet blockchain’s promise is tempered by risks. The CBN’s 2021 crypto ban (partially lifted in 2023) drove users underground, amplifying fraud risks.

The eNaira and proposed Nigerium platform signal government interest, but their rollout lags, leaving most Nigerians in a regulatory gray zone. 

Blockchain could bridge Nigeria to the world, but only with structure and scale.

Pathways to Inclusion: A Sociological Call to Action

Nigeria’s payment crisis isn’t just logistical—it’s a sociological emergency demanding systemic solutions such as:

  1. Regulatory Overhaul: The CBN must lift archaic restrictions—like PayPal’s receive ban—and craft clear blockchain rules, partnering with global bodies to align with best practices. This would dismantle structural barriers to participation.
  2. Affordable Fintech: Subsidies or collaborations with international providers could slash fees, ensuring fintech serves the poor, not just the privileged. Fostering competition could further drive costs down.
  3. Expanding Access: With only 64% of adults banked in 2023, mobile payments and decentralized finance (DeFi) can reach the unbanked, shrinking the inclusion gap.
  4. Blockchain as Opportunity: Scaling eNaira and Nigerium with low-fee, high-speed networks could revolutionize payments, making them accessible to all, not just tech elites.
  5. Empowering Users: Digital literacy campaigns and anti-fraud safeguards are critical as Nigerians embrace alternatives. Protection must match innovation.

A Future Without Borders

Nigeria’s payment struggles are a human crisis at large—Chika’s lost gigs, Tunde’s tuition woes, Amina’s black-market hustles, and Emeka’s crypto gambles embody resilience amid exclusion. 

The data—billions in remittances, imports, and crypto—quantifies the stakes. Sociologically, this is about more than money; it’s about dignity, agency, and Nigeria’s place in a globalized world. 

Blockchain offers a lifeline, but its potential hinges on bold action.

With a tech-savvy youth and a diaspora eager to connect, Nigeria is poised to leap forward. 

Yet without policy reform, affordable tools, and inclusive systems, it risks remaining a bystander to the borderless future unfolding elsewhere. 

As a Nigerian, I implore leaders, fintech pioneers, and global partners to act now. Our stories demand it, our economy requires it, and our people deserve it. 

Let’s build a financial ecosystem where no one is left behind.

Abdulrahman Baba-Ahmed

Abdulrahman is an environmentalist, cultural analyst and a mild tech enthusiast. He writes from Kaduna Nigeria.