From Boom to Bust in Nigeria
Violent Crime Widens Port Harcourt's Vast Economic Divide

By Will Connors
Special to The Washington Post
Sunday, September 14, 2008; A21

PORT HARCOURT, Nigeria -- Uche was the triggerman for his gang of thieves. When gang members stole oil from pipelines or cellphones from passersby, he made sure no one got in their way.

Early this year, Uche, who gave only his first name, decided to look for legitimate work. After a few difficult months scraping by, he returned to stealing oil, this time with neighborhood friends. At night, they would travel up one of the hundreds of creeks outside the city to the pipelines, siphon off crude oil, and move it by boat to larger vessels and refineries outside Nigeria.

His former gang found out and came looking for him. They broke his fingers, which are still misshapen, and inflicted burns up and down his arms. "I'm trying," Uche said, tugging uncomfortably at his tattered gray T-shirt. "But it's hard to find work."

A chance at a better life has long eluded Uche and the many poor residents of this once-booming oil town. But a recent surge in kidnappings and other violence has brought hard times for the entire city, widening the vast gap between the few with access to oil money and the many without.

Foreign companies have relocated staff to Lagos, the commercial center, or pulled out of the region completely, and local residents have begun moving to less volatile towns or to their native villages. Merchants and small-business owners have lost customers.

"Economies do not thrive on fear," said Styvn Obodoekwe, a civil rights worker and journalist. "Shops that would have stayed open until 8 or 9 o'clock now close by 6, whether they have customers or not. Everyone is rushing home to avoid being attacked or hit by a flying bullet."

Nigeria's economy is among the fastest-growing in the world, but most people live on less than $1 a day. The poverty, combined with an influx of weapons, has led to rampant crime. Armed gangs kidnap foreigners and wealthy Nigerians for ransom, steal oil, and attack restaurants and clubs. Bystanders are often caught in the crossfire.

The gangs say they are fighting on behalf of the poor, but the violence has become about little else other than money and power.

"It's no longer for any struggle, apart from their own selfish motivations," Obodoekwe said. "It's for money. They kidnap children now."

Port Harcourt, the hub of Nigeria's oil-producing Niger River Delta region, was once known for its bustling streets and vibrant night life, fueled by foreign oil workers with ample allowances, and local traders and club owners eager to capitalize on the boon that followed the discovery of oil.

As the delta has become more unstable, the amount of crude oil being pumped has dwindled steadily, falling by nearly a quarter since 2006. This year, for the first time, Angola overtook Nigeria as Africa's biggest oil producer. Many wonder about the future of Nigeria's oil industry and whether Port Harcourt can recover.

"The city is already half-dead," said Per Stafsen, the manager of the Presidential Hotel. "Something has to be done, otherwise the city is completely dead."

On New Year's Day, militants attacked the hotel. Sixteen people were killed, and Stafsen was shot in the back. The hotel, which used to be nearly full most nights, now has an average occupancy rate of 15 percent. Joseph Bacha, who is from Lebanon, said his restaurant, the Blue Elephant, has remained open throughout the tumult. He attributes his success to hard work and efforts to improve Nigerian cuisine to attract wealthy locals. "That, and for one year and six months I didn't go outside the gates. Not ever," he said.

Government officials concede that the problems damaged the city and region but say order has been restored. The insecurity "has really hurt the Niger Delta region, not just Port Harcourt, in so many ways," said state information commissioner Nwuke Ogbonna. "But we're going after them. We're trying to guarantee more security for people wanting to come out at night and enjoy the city. We believe that we are on top of the situation now."

Residents say fear and suspicion, of militants and the police, pervades Port Harcourt.

Moabel Nwosu, 38, serves spicy soups and rice dishes from the restaurant she runs on her small, ramshackle porch. But in the past six months, customers have dwindled.

"Police come at any time and arrest anybody," she said. "They pass by and harass my customers. If I say, 'Officer, you are disturbing my business,' they say, 'Don't talk or we'll arrest you.' People are afraid of the police. They don't come and eat."

Around the corner, Ike Osita, 24, said he has been arrested five times in the past year. "I was on my way home from work, and they arrested me for nothing," he said, adding that the police took him to a nearby prison and demanded 7,000 naira, or $60, for his release.

Police say they are just doing their job according to the law. "We conduct shows of force every Sunday, when we go around and tell citizens they can go about their business," said the state police commissioner, Bala Hassan. "It's much better than it used to be. We follow the rule of law religiously. We don't have problems of human rights violations in Port Harcourt."

Efforts at long-lasting reform in the delta, such as peace talks and wealth-sharing agreements, have been ineffectual. According to analysts, a large part of the problem is that politicians and military leaders are linked to the region's instability.

"The federal government contributes 150 million naira [$1.3 million] to the military every month," said Elias Courson, a professor at Niger Delta University. "So now someone who was sleeping in the military quarters is suddenly in a duplex with free food, people at his beck and call, and you want him to accept peace in the creeks? No, he will create more conflict."

A Westerner in the oil and gas industry who has lived in Port Harcourt for 20 years said he saw a similar pattern of government abuse. "It makes no difference to the people in the government what happens to the city, they're making money," he said, speaking on the condition of anonymity to avoid alienating potential clients. "They don't care. They have no interest if this place manages or not."

The government body established with the sole mandate of improving the delta, the Niger Delta Development Commission, has come under fire for corruption. Its chairman was suspended last month for paying $4 million to a witch doctor to perform rituals against a potential rival.

The Rev. Humphrey Nsirim, who travels to the creeks and waterfronts to find boys trying to avoid or escape gang life, said that without work, there is no chance for them to change.

"They're not militants; they're victims of their time and of wicked men who want to use them for their own ends," Nsirim said. "The challenge is not if they want to change or not, but what to do with them now."