Nigeria is losing the energy story. Badly. And nobody in a position to fix it seems to notice—or care...
Here’s a fun experiment:
Google “Shell Nigeria” right now.
Go ahead. I’ll wait.
What did you find?
“Shell exits Nigeria after 60 years.”
“Shell abandons Nigerian operations.”
“Shell sells assets amid security concerns.”
“End of an era as Shell leaves Nigeria.”
Now Google “Saudi Aramco” or “ExxonMobil USA.”
You’ll find: “Record profits.” “Strategic expansion.” “Energy leadership.” “Innovation in production.”
Same industry. Same global oil market. Same energy transition pressures.
Completely different narratives.
And here’s the thing that keeps me up at night as someone who’s spent 25 years understanding how narratives shape reality: Nigeria is losing the energy story. Badly. And nobody in a position to fix it seems to notice—or care—that we’re basically writing our own economic obituary in real-time.
The Story We’re Telling (Badly)
Let me be clear about what’s actually happening in Nigerian oil and gas:
Shell isn’t “abandoning” Nigeria. They’re divesting onshore assets while maintaining deepwater operations. This is a global strategy, not a Nigeria-specific retreat. It’s actually a maturation of the industry—indigenous companies taking over onshore production while IOCs focus on deepwater and gas.
This should be Nigeria’s “we’re all grown up now” moment.
Instead, we’re treating it like a breakup. A messy, public, embarrassing breakup where we’re the one getting dumped.
“Shell is leaving us!”
“After everything we did for them!”
“What did we do wrong?”
Meanwhile, Shell’s communications team is probably in London going, “We literally just sold some assets. Why are they acting like we died?”
What Other Oil Nations Understand (That We Don’t)
I’ve watched this play out for years, and here’s what frustrates me: every oil-producing nation treats their energy sector like a strategic asset.
Except us.
Saudi Arabia doesn’t let random narratives about Aramco float around unchallenged. They have a sophisticated, well-funded communications infrastructure that shapes how the world sees Saudi oil. When Aramco had the largest IPO in history, it wasn’t an accident. It was strategic communications executed at the highest level.
The United States treats energy independence as a national security issue. Their communications around shale, fracking, and oil production is coordinated across government, industry, and media. When there’s a narrative they don’t like, they don’t just complain. They change it.
The UAE has positioned itself as the future of energy—not just oil and gas, but renewables, hydrogen, everything. Their communications strategy makes Abu Dhabi sound like it’s building the energy system of 2050 while pumping oil today. Brilliant.
Norway somehow convinced the world that oil money can be ethical if you put it in a sovereign wealth fund and talk about it in the right tone. That’s not policy. That’s communications genius.
And Nigeria?
We let Bloomberg, Reuters, and Financial Times write our energy story for us.
Then we wonder why investors are nervous.
The Gas Story Nobody’s Telling
Here’s what really kills me:
While we’re busy mourning Shell’s “exit,” Nigeria is sitting on 209 trillion cubic feet of proven natural gas reserves. We’re the 9th largest in the world. We have more gas than we know what to do with.
And gas, if you haven’t noticed, is having a moment.
Europe is desperate for it. Asia needs it. The energy transition runs on gas as a “bridge fuel.” LNG prices have been volatile but profitable. The global gas market is projected to grow significantly through 2040.
This should be Nigeria’s decade.
We have the Dangote Refinery coming online. We have the AKK pipeline (if we ever finish it). We have LNG expansion projects. We have midstream opportunities that could transform the economy.
But what’s the global narrative about Nigerian gas?
Checks notes.
There isn’t one.
We’re not telling the story. So nobody knows it exists.
Meanwhile, Qatar—with similar gas reserves—has branded itself as the LNG capital of the world. Their communications strategy around gas is so effective that when Europe needed to replace Russian gas, Qatar was the first call.
Not Nigeria. Qatar.
We have the product. We don’t have the narrative.
The Communications Gap That Costs Billions
I’ve built media operations from scratch. I know what strategic communications looks like. And I can tell you: Nigeria’s energy sector communications strategy is either non-existent or so bad it might as well be.
Here’s what we’re doing wrong:
1. We’re Reactive, Not Proactive
We wait for Bloomberg to write “Shell exits Nigeria” and then we issue a defensive statement. Too late. The narrative is set. Investors have already read the headline and moved on.
Smart energy nations don’t react to stories. They create them.
When was the last time you saw a major feature in international media titled “Nigeria’s Gas Revolution”? Or “How Indigenous Nigerian Oil Companies Are Reshaping West African Energy”?
Never? Exactly.
2. We Have No Unified Message
NNPC says one thing. The Ministry of Petroleum says something slightly different. Indigenous producers say something else. International oil companies say nothing (because they’ve learned that anything they say gets twisted).
Result? Confusion. And investors hate confusion more than they hate risk.
Compare this to Saudi Arabia, where Aramco, the Energy Ministry, and the Kingdom speak with one voice. Always. That’s not coincidence. That’s strategy.
3. We Let Bad News Dominate
Oil theft in Niger Delta? International headlines.
Pipeline vandalization? Front page news.
Shell divestment? Covered everywhere.
Gas production milestones? Buried in industry newsletters.
Indigenous companies taking over operations? Barely mentioned.
Nigeria’s potential as Africa’s gas hub? Who’s talking about that?
We’ve created a media environment where only bad news about Nigerian energy gets amplified. Good news doesn’t even get a whisper.
4. We Don’t Understand Our Audience
Nigerian energy communications seems designed for Nigerians. Which would be fine, except Nigerians aren’t the ones making billion-dollar investment decisions.
The audiences that matter:
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International investors in London, New York, Houston
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Energy analysts at rating agencies
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Portfolio managers at sovereign wealth funds
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C-suite executives at IOCs and service companies
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Energy journalists at FT, Bloomberg, Reuters
These people don’t read Nigerian newspapers. They don’t watch NTA. They’re not on Nairaland.
They read what international media says about Nigeria. And what does international media say?
“Shell exits. Oil theft. Insecurity. Divestment.”
Because that’s the only narrative we’re giving them.
The Trillion-Dollar Question
Here’s what I don’t understand:
Nigeria’s oil and gas sector generates most of our foreign exchange. It funds a huge chunk of the budget. It’s the reason international companies have offices in Lagos. It’s literally the foundation of our economy.
And we treat its communications like an afterthought.
No serious crisis communications strategy.
No proactive media engagement.
No narrative development.
No international PR infrastructure.
We’re literally letting the story of our most valuable sector be written by people who don’t understand it, don’t live here, and often have incentives to make it sound worse than it is.
This isn’t just bad PR. It’s bad economics.
Because here’s what happens when you lose control of the narrative:
Investors get spooked. They read “Shell exits” and think “Nigeria is too risky.” They don’t dig deeper. They just move to the next opportunity.
Projects get delayed. When the narrative is negative, getting financing is harder. Due diligence takes longer. Risk premiums go up.
Talent leaves. Young Nigerians who could build careers in energy look at the headlines and think the sector is dying. They go into tech instead. The brain drain continues.
Policy gets distorted. When government hears only negative stories, they make reactive policy decisions instead of strategic ones.
All of this has a cost. A real, measurable, billion-dollar cost.
What Saudi Arabia Does That We Don’t (A Case Study)
Let me tell you about a conversation I had with someone who worked in Saudi energy communications.
They have—and I’m not exaggerating—hundreds of people working on Saudi Aramco’s global reputation. Hundreds.
They have teams in New York, London, Singapore, and Houston whose only job is to make sure the Saudi energy story is told correctly in international media.
They don’t wait for reporters to call. They proactively pitch stories. They arrange site visits. They have backgrounders ready. They have executives trained in media engagement. They track every mention of Saudi oil in global media and respond within hours.
When Saudi Aramco went public, their communications rollout was military-grade precise. International media got exclusive access. Financial analysts got detailed briefings. The narrative was: “This is the most profitable company in the world, and you’re getting a chance to own a piece of it.”
It worked. Biggest IPO in history.
Now, I’m not saying Nigeria needs hundreds of communications professionals (though honestly, we might).
But we need more than the nothing we currently have.
We need someone—anyone—thinking strategically about how the world perceives Nigerian energy.
Because right now, we’re letting the narrative write itself.
And it’s writing us out of the future.
The Nigeria Energy Story We Should Be Telling
Imagine if instead of “Shell exits Nigeria,” the headlines were:
“Nigerian Companies Take Control: Indigenous Firms Lead New Era in Oil Production”
“Nigeria’s Gas Reserves Position Country as Key Player in Global Energy Transition”
“How Nigeria Is Becoming Africa’s Energy Hub: The Untold Story”
“Beyond Oil: Nigeria’s Natural Gas Revolution”
These aren’t fantasy stories. They’re real. They’re happening. They’re just not being told.
Here’s the narrative Nigeria should be building:
Act 1: Maturation
“Nigeria’s oil sector is maturing. International companies are transitioning onshore assets to indigenous firms—not because Nigeria is failing, but because local operators now have the capacity and expertise. This is what successful development looks like.”
Act 2: Gas Revolution
“While the world obsesses over oil decline, Nigeria is positioning itself as a gas powerhouse. With 209 TCF of reserves and strategic location, Nigeria can supply gas to Europe and Asia for decades.”
Act 3: Energy Hub
“Nigeria isn’t just producing energy. We’re building the infrastructure to become West Africa’s energy hub. Pipelines, refineries, LNG facilities—the foundation of regional energy security.”
Act 4: Transition Leadership
“Nigeria understands energy transition better than most. We’re not abandoning hydrocarbons—we’re using gas as bridge fuel while developing renewables. Pragmatic. Strategic. Necessary.”
This is the story. It’s true. It’s compelling. It positions Nigeria not as a victim of energy transition, but as a strategic player managing it intelligently.
But who’s telling it?
Nobody.
What This Looks Like From A Media Professional’s Perspective
I’ve spent 25 years building audiences and shaping narratives. I know what works.
Here’s what strategic energy communications would look like in Nigeria:
1. Proactive Media Strategy
Don’t wait for crisis. Create positive stories. When Seplat hits production targets, that should be international news. When NNPC signs gas deals, that needs global coverage. When indigenous companies successfully take over operations from IOCs, that’s a success story—tell it like one.
2. Unified Messaging
Government, NNPC, indigenous producers, and industry associations should speak with one voice on key issues. Not scripted—but coordinated. When international media asks about Shell divestment, everyone should have the same framing: “This is maturation, not abandonment.”
3. International Media Engagement
We need people in London, New York, and Houston whose job is to pitch Nigeria energy stories to international media. Op-eds. Backgrounders. Executive interviews. Make Nigerian energy a regular feature in FT and Bloomberg—not just when something goes wrong.
4. Crisis Communication Protocols
When bad news happens (and it will), have a response ready. Not defensive. Not reactive. Strategic. “Yes, there was an incident. Here’s what we’re doing. Here’s the bigger context.”
5. Digital Presence
The Nigerian energy sector needs a digital communications strategy. Social media. LinkedIn thought leadership. YouTube content. The places where investors, analysts, and young talent actually get information.
6. Thought Leadership
Nigerian energy executives should be regular contributors to global energy conversations. Speaking at conferences. Writing in industry journals. Being quoted as experts. We have the experience. We’re just invisible.
The Cost of Doing Nothing
Here’s what happens if Nigeria continues ignoring energy communications:
The “Shell exits” narrative becomes “Nigeria’s oil sector is dying.”
International investors avoid Nigerian energy projects.
Local talent goes elsewhere.
Gas opportunities go to Qatar, Mozambique, Tanzania.
Indigenous companies struggle to get financing because international banks read the headlines and see only risk.
The energy transition happens without us.
And 20 years from now, we’ll wonder why Nigeria—with all our resources—ended up irrelevant in global energy markets.
Not because we didn’t have oil and gas.
But because we couldn’t tell the story.
The Uncomfortable Truth
Here’s what I’ve learned building media operations: narrative is reality.
It doesn’t matter what’s actually happening in Nigerian oil and gas. It matters what people think is happening.
And right now, the world thinks Nigerian energy is in terminal decline.
Not because it’s true. But because that’s the only story being told.
We have a gas revolution happening. We have indigenous companies successfully operating fields. We have infrastructure coming online. We have opportunities everywhere.
But if the narrative is “everything is falling apart,” that becomes reality. Investors won’t come. Talent won’t stay. Opportunities will go elsewhere.
This is fixable. But it requires something Nigeria’s energy sector apparently doesn’t have: a recognition that communications isn’t a luxury, it’s a strategic necessity.
A Modest Proposal
I know what some of you are thinking: “We have bigger problems than PR.”
You’re right. We do.
Oil theft. Infrastructure decay. Regulatory uncertainty. Funding gaps.
But here’s the thing: those problems get worse when the narrative is broken.
You can’t fix oil theft if international partners won’t invest in security infrastructure because they think Nigeria is too risky.
You can’t build infrastructure if you can’t get financing because investors believe the headlines.
You can’t solve regulatory uncertainty when international media frames every government action as chaotic.
Communications isn’t separate from the problems. It’s intertwined with all of them.
So here’s my proposal:
Someone—NNPC, the Ministry of Petroleum, the oil producers’ association, literally anyone—should hire people who actually understand strategic communications.
Not spokespeople who issue statements. Not PR firms who send press releases.
Actual communications strategists who understand narrative development, international media, crisis management, and long-term reputation building.
People who’ve built things. Who understand audiences. Who know the difference between reacting to news and creating it.
Pay them well. Give them authority. Let them do their jobs.
And watch what happens when Nigeria actually starts telling its own energy story.
Why I’m Writing This
Full disclosure: I’m not in oil and gas. I’m in media.
But I’ve spent 25 years understanding how stories shape reality. How narratives drive behavior. How communications, when done right, can transform sectors.
And I’m watching Nigeria squander the biggest communications opportunity we’ve had in decades.
We’re sitting on resources that could make us indispensable to global energy markets.
We have a story that—if told properly—would have investors lining up.
We have indigenous companies proving that Nigerians can operate complex oil and gas infrastructure successfully.
We have a gas sector ready to explode.
And we’re letting the world think we’re falling apart.
This bothers me professionally. Because I know it’s fixable.
And it bothers me personally. Because I’m Nigerian, and I’m tired of watching us lose narratives we should be winning.
The Question Nobody’s Asking
Here’s what I want energy sector leaders to ask themselves:
“If I Google our company right now, what story does the world see?”
“If an investor in London searches ‘Nigerian oil and gas,’ what’s the first thing they read?”
“If a young Nigerian engineer considers a career in energy, what narrative are they walking into?”
The answers, I suspect, will be uncomfortable.
But uncomfortable is where change starts.
Nigeria’s energy sector has a future. A profitable, strategic, important future.
We just need to start telling that story.
Before someone else tells a different one.
And we end up believing it.
This is The Nwaneri Report. Where we examine the narratives Nigeria should be building instead of the ones we’re accidentally destroying.
If you’re in oil and gas and this made you uncomfortable, good. Let’s talk about how to fix it.
If you’re in communications and this made you angry that energy companies haven’t hired you yet, I feel you.
If you’re an investor who just Googled “Nigerian oil and gas” and got depressed, maybe it’s time Nigeria hired people who can change that search result.
