LAGOS, Nigeria, March 30 (UPI) -- Newspaper editor Debo Adesini would never even think of relying on public utilities to power the presses that print Nigeria's Guardian newspaper.
In fact, during the 24-year run of one of the country's leading publications, not once have the presses used power-grid electric to get out an edition. The hulking mechanism that churns out 100,000 copies a day -- a circulation leader by Nigerians standards -- begins production every night by cranking up the Guardian's own petrol-powered generators.
Even before press time, generators are often responsible for keep the newsroom's lights burning and computers working, said Adesini, pointing to the flicking phosphorescent light bulbs hanging from the ceiling in his office.
"You dare not print with public utilities for fear the power cuts in the middle," said Adesini. "When that happens the whole run is ruined and we can't afford that."
Supplemental generator power is the norm in Nigeria's overwhelmingly congested and electric-thirsty megalopolis Lagos, where gargantuan generators power entire hotels and office buildings and portable lawnmower engine-sized units light shabby roadside kiosks offering snacks and cigarettes.
The ever buzzing, thumping generators keep Lagosians out of the dark when the country's electric plants can't cut the mustard, which on any given day can be a half dozen times or more.
But Nigeria's power woes aren't limited to Lagos. Throughout West Africa's most populous country power plants are stretched to the limit, often failing to meet the ever-growing energy demands of the country's more than 130 million residents.
During the first few moments of any power outage, seconds before generators fire up, many Nigerians recall ruefully the promises by President Olusegun Obasanjo nearly eight years ago to tackle the country's electric shortages.
Yet with less than two months left in his administration, Obasanjo has failed to make good on his pledge to keep the lights on. Hoping to salvage his legacy on electric, the president earlier this week proclaimed a handful of new power plants were in the works, a promise many here wouldn't hold their breath to be fulfilled.
Some $4.5 billion has reportedly already been spent since 1999 on trying to bring uninterrupted power to Nigeria and electrify rural areas.
Neither initiative has proven particularly successful, considering many parts of the country and still without adequate access to electric, and power remains intermittent in the country's dense urban populace.
Meanwhile, residents of vast urban slums take full advantage of Nigeria's shoddy electric management by illegally tapping into power lines, a tradition that adds to power plants' burden to keep the power flowing.
"We have continued to make very significant investments in our generation and transmission capacity by funding ongoing projects," said an outwardly optimistic Obasanjo in a recent address, referring specifically to seven new power plants for the Niger Delta, home of the country's multibillion-dollar light crude operations.
The irony of all Nigerian ironies may be that this oil-wealthy region is also suffering the ill effects from the country's energy crisis.
Many place the blame for the delta's energy woes squarely on the shoulders of the militants and gunmen who populate the delta waterways. In the last year and a half, a violent campaign of kidnappings and gun attacks against foreign oil firms in and around Port Harcourt has knocked several pipelines and installations offline.
The militants, known as the Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger Delta, or MEND, have declared war on big oil while calling for an equitable distribution of oil revenue to residents of the delta.
"We will continue to nibble at the Nigerian oil export industry until we think it's necessary to deal it a final crippling blow," said Gen. Jomo Gbomo, the self-styled head of MEND in a recent interview published in the pages of Nigeria's leading magazine, The News.
"We have caused the oil companies and Nigerian government to pay more for our oil and eventually it will be snatched right out of their grip," added the shadowy militant leader whose true identity is unknown to the public.
MEND attacks have been blamed for reducing oil production by 20 percent in Nigeria and, in turn, short-falling the supply of energy available to run many of the new power plants that rely on a steady supply of gas.
Until Nigeria can wrest control from the MEND, all the money in the world spent on power plants won't solve the country's pervasive energy woes. In the meantime, Adesina says he'll continue to put his faith the Guardian's trusty generators.
"After eight years (under Obosanjo) things ought to be better than they are," he said wistfully. "But they aren't, so we have other means."
