Africa's billionaire boom masks a crisis for the many
Moreover, the top 5 percent of Africans now control nearly $4 trillion in wealth, more than double the combined assets of the remaining 95 percent.
Titled Africa's Inequality Crisis and the Rise of the Super‑Rich, the report profiles the four wealthiest individuals on the continent. At number one is Aliko Dangote of Nigeria, estimated to be worth $23.3bn. Next is Johann Rupert and his family from South Africa, with about $14.2bn in wealth. Following them are Nicky Oppenheimer and his family, also South African, with a fortune of $10.2bn. Finally, Egyptian Nassef Sawiris holds approximately $9.4bn in net worth.
I find myself among the bottom 95 percent, the hopeful yet under‑resourced individuals who have laboured for modest incomes while yearning for socioeconomic transformation. At the dawn of the 21st century, in 2000, Africa had no billionaires. Today it is home to 23 billionaires, predominantly male, whose combined wealth has soared by 56 percent over the past five years, reaching an astounding $112.6bn.
Today, no two nations better illustrate Africa's stark wealth disparity and oligarchic dominance than Nigeria and South Africa, and no business leader exemplifies the rise of crony capitalism on the continent more than Aliko Dangote.
Here is why.
Twenty‑five years ago, Dangote was simply an ambitious multimillionaire businessman. Then, on February 23, 1999, he made a substantial donation to General Olusegun Obasanjo's presidential campaign. That seemingly benign investment proved decisive for his business trajectory.
A year later, the Obasanjo administration embarked on a sweeping privatisation of state‑owned enterprises, aiming to liberalise the economy, attract private investment and foster domestic entrepreneurship under the Backward Integration Policy (BIP). Dangote acquired Benue Cement in 2000 and Obajana Cement in 2002, laying the foundations for Dangote Cement, now Africa's largest cement producer.
Between 2010 and 2015, Dangote Cement reportedly paid an effective tax rate of less than 1 percent on profits of approximately 1 trillion Nigerian naira (about $6bn at 2015 exchange rates). Dangote himself became Nigeria's richest entrepreneur in 2007, attaining billionaire status amid the company's rapid expansion.
Since then, the quid pro quo strategies between Dangote and the Obasanjo administration have become a conventional aspect of Nigerian politics and business, albeit a controversial one.
Critics argue that the BIP has stifled competition and fostered monopolistic practices in key sectors like sugar and cement, disproportionately benefitting politically connected elites – including Dangote – at the expense of smaller enterprises and ordinary Nigerians.
Nigeria is richly endowed with natural resources and possesses world-class human capital. Nevertheless, more than 112 million people, nearly half of Nigeria's population, live in poverty, based on the most recent population estimates of around 227 million. At the same time, the country's five wealthiest individuals, dominating sectors such as oil and gas, banking, telecommunications, and real estate, have amassed a combined fortune of $29.9bn.
The dysfunctional system that has enabled Nigeria's 'big five' entrepreneurs and fostered oligarchic patterns is not unique to Nigeria. South Africa, Africa's most industrialised nation, confronts similar but distinct challenges in its post-apartheid era.
After apartheid ended on April 27, 1994, the African National Congress (ANC) introduced Black Economic Empowerment (BEE) and Broad-Based BEE initiatives (BBBEE). These policies aimed to advance the effective participation of Black people in the economy, achieve higher growth, increase employment and ensure fairer income distribution.
However, over time, the ANC itself acknowledged that these affirmative action programs have not appreciably benefitted most Black South Africans, especially Black women. In the 31 years since apartheid, economic conditions have only marginally improved. While a few Black business leaders have emerged, they continue to succeed within a system engineered to favour a narrow elite.
One such example is Patrice Motsepe, a mining magnate and among Africa's richest individuals, with an estimated net worth of approximately $3bn. Supporters view him as a tangible beneficiary of post-apartheid economic transformation, but critics, including economist Moeletsi Mbeki, argue that his wealth reflects crony capitalism rather than broad-based entrepreneurship. Motsepe, who is also the brother-in-law of President Cyril Ramaphosa, remains a rare exception in a system marked by elite capture.
By April 2025, South Africa's official unemployment rate stood at 32.9 percent, equating to about 8.2 million people actively seeking work, while the broader rate, including discouraged jobseekers, rose to 43.1 percent. Around the same time, approximately 34.3 million South Africans, or more than half the population, were living in poverty.
Meanwhile, the Oppenheimer family, whose immense fortune in diamond mining has deep historical roots tied to South Africa's colonial past, continues to expand its wealth. A Harvard Growth Lab study published in November 2023 concluded that three decades after the end of apartheid, the economy is defined by stagnation and exclusion, and current strategies are not achieving inclusion and empowerment in practice.
Unsurprisingly, the most prominent beneficiaries of BEE initiatives have been ANC insiders and aligned business elites, including President Ramaphosa, former Gauteng Premier Tokyo Sexwale, Saki Macozoma, a former ANC MP, and Bridgette Radebe, sister to Motsepe and wife of ANC stalwart Jeff Radebe.
This distinct class of elites starkly contrasts with BEE's intended beneficiaries, everyday South Africans. Instead, these individuals are grappling with the lingering consequences of oligarchic state capture, widespread corruption, poor service delivery, and sustained cuts to education and health budgets.
Nigeria shares this pattern. At the very least, Dangote's vast wealth should represent the pinnacle of success in a thriving African economy. Instead, he exemplifies Africa's most prominent and wealthiest oligarch, demonstrating how proximity to political power can create controversial paths to fortune. Regrettably, almost every African country has its own Dangote or Motsepe whose influence hinders fair and inclusive economic development.
Crony capitalism is a sharp break from free market ideals, where political connections override merit and innovation. This distortion breeds corruption, economic inefficiency and social inequality. It also weakens democratic norms by allowing private interests to gain excessive influence over public policy.
A 2015 study by Columbia University concluded that wealth accumulated by politically connected oligarchs has a strongly negative impact on economic growth, while the fortunes of unconnected billionaires have little effect. This finding suggests African economies could grow more rapidly if the enormous influence of politically connected elites was curtailed.
Now is the time for meaningful reform.
African nations must implement a wealth tax on high-net-worth individuals and direct the revenue towards essential services in impoverished areas.
According to Oxfam, a modest tax increase consisting of a 1 percent levy on wealth and a 10 percent income tax on the richest individuals could generate $66bn annually, equivalent to 2.29 percent of Africa's gross domestic product, and help close critical funding gaps in education and electricity access.
Above all, African countries must adopt economic policies focused on equity to reduce poverty and improve wellbeing.
We, the neglected and disenfranchised 95 percent, stand against oligarchy.
The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera's editorial stance.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Al Jazeera
9 hours ago
- Al Jazeera
US to require up to $15,000 bond for some tourists
The United States could require up to $15,000 bonds for some tourist and business visas under a pilot programme launching in two weeks. The Department of State notice released on Monday said the effort aims to deter those who overstay their visas. The 12-month pilot programme, which will begin on August 20, will target those seeking B-1 or B-2 visas from countries with high rates of overstays although the document does not identify the nations. In June, the US government announced the possibility of full or partial travel bans on visitors from 36 countries with high rates of overstays among other concerns. The State Department said in its announcement the programme could bring in $20m over the course of a year. 'The Pilot Program is further designed to serve as a diplomatic tool to encourage foreign governments to take all appropriate actions to ensure robust screening and vetting for all citizens in matters of identity verification and public safety,' the release said. The release notes that historically the State Department has discouraged requiring travellers to the US to post a bond, saying processing the bonds would be 'cumbersome'. In 2020 at the end of President Donald Trump's first administration, the White House rolled out a similar six-month programme that targeted two dozen countries, most of which were in Africa. It was not fully implemented due to the drop in global travel associated with the COVID-19 pandemic, the notice said The Trump administration said the new programme would be a diplomatic deterrent for bad actors trying to enter the US. According to the report, there were 500,000 suspected overstays in the fiscal year 2023. Trump has made cracking down on immigration a central focus of his presidency, surging resources to secure the border and arresting tens of thousands of undocumented migrants, including many who are seeking legal status. The administration has justified its arrests and deportations on repeated claims that those who are 'unlawfully present in the United States present significant threats to national security and public safety' although overwhelming evidence has shown that immigrants commit crimes at lower rates than naturally born Americans. A report presented to the US House of Representatives in 2024 looking at Texas arrest records determined that both documented and undocumented immigrants commit crimes at a lower rate than US citizens with undocumented migrants arrested less than half as often as native-born citizens. A 2021 study by Oxford Economics similarly found that undocumented immigrants are 33 percent less likely to be incarcerated than US citizens.
Al Jazeera
3 days ago
- Al Jazeera
DRC, Rwanda agree economic framework outline as part of peace deal
The Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) and Rwanda have agreed on terms of economic cooperation in several sectors, as the two countries move towards delivering on a peace deal signed in June. The tenets agreed on Friday summarise a regional economic integration framework, which includes elements of cooperation on energy, infrastructure, mineral supply chains, national parks and public health, according to the State Department of the United States, which brokered the deal. A source familiar with the matter said a preliminary draft of the framework has been agreed to and there would now be an input period to get reaction from the private sector and civil society before it is finalised, the Reuters news agency reported. In the statement, Rwanda and the DRC affirmed that each country has 'full, sovereign control' over the exploitation, processing and export of its natural resources, and recognised the importance of developing mineral processing and transformation capacity within each country, according to Reuters. The DRC views the plundering of its mineral wealth as a key driver of the conflict between its forces and Rwanda-backed M23 rebels in the country's east that has killed thousands of people. 'Mineral deal first' The deal signed in Washington, DC, on June 27 aims to attract Western investment to a region rich in tantalum, gold, cobalt, copper, lithium and other minerals. According to Human Rights Watch, it is 'a mineral deal first, an opportunity for peace second', linking economic integration and respect for territorial integrity with the promise of billions of dollars of investments. The two countries are also committed to ensuring that the minerals trade no longer provides funding to armed groups and to creating a world-class industrial mining sector in the region. The deal would also ensure better cross-border interoperability on mineral supply chains, according to the statement. They also agreed to connect new infrastructure to the US-backed Lobito Corridor, underscoring Washington's aim of greater access to resources in the region and efforts to counter China. The Ruzizi III hydropower project and Lake Kivu methane exploitation were the only specific projects mentioned in the statement, despite US emphasis on critical minerals. The countries said they intended to prioritise financing for Ruzizi and work together to exploit methane gas sustainably. Friday's announcement comes after the two countries held the first meeting of a joint oversight committee on Thursday in a step towards implementing the deal, even as other commitments are yet to be fulfilled. In the Washington agreement, the two countries pledged to implement a 2024 agreement that would see Rwandan troops withdraw from eastern DRC within 90 days. The Congolese military's operations targeting the Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda (FDLR), a Congo-based armed group that includes remnants of Rwanda's former army and militias that carried out a 1994 genocide, are meant to conclude over the same timeframe. The deal also said the DRC and Rwanda would form a joint security coordination mechanism within 30 days and implement a plan agreed upon last year to monitor and verify the withdrawal of Rwandan soldiers within three months. But 30 days from the signing have passed without a meeting of the joint security coordination mechanism. The source familiar with the matter said the joint security coordination mechanism meeting would be held on August 7 in Addis Ababa. The DRC is also involved in direct talks with M23 hosted by Qatar, and last month the two sides pledged to sign a separate peace agreement by August 18, though many outstanding details need to be negotiated.
Al Jazeera
3 days ago
- Al Jazeera
Nigeria kills her sun: Death and vindication for Ken Saro-Wiwa, Ogoni Nine
Lagos, Nigeria – 'Lord, take my soul, but the struggle continues,' the man said, before his body went limp. It swung gently from the makeshift gallows, hurriedly built a few days earlier. Before that morning, the prison had last enforced a death sentence 30 years earlier, during British rule. It was November 10, 1995. For weeks, local activists from the small Ogoniland settlement in Nigeria's lush Niger Delta region had been protesting against oil spills seeping into their farmland and the gas flares choking them. The Niger Delta, which produces the crude that earned Nigeria 80 percent of its foreign revenues, teemed with gun-carrying soldiers from the military dictatorship of the feared General Sani Abacha. They responded to the protests with force. That day, the loudest Ogoni voice – renowned playwright and environmental activist Ken Saro-Wiwa – faced his fate. A week earlier, a military tribunal had declared his sentence. And just the day before, five executioners tasked with carrying it out had flown in from the northern city of Sokoto. At 5am that morning, Saro-Wiwa and the eight other Ogoni activists accused alongside him of murder were moved from the army camp where they had been held to the prison grounds in Port Harcourt, the regional hub a few hours drive from Ogoniland. There, they were herded into a room and shackled. Then, one after the other, they were led out to the gallows. Saro-Wiwa went first. It took five attempts to kill him. After one failed tug, the activist cried out in frustration: 'Why are you people treating me like this? What kind of country is this?' On the final attempt, the gallows finally functioned as they were supposed to. By 3:15pm, all nine men had been executed. Their bodies were placed in coffins, loaded into vehicles and escorted by armed guards to the public cemetery. On the streets, thousands of horrified people watched the procession as soldiers fired tear gas into the air to quell any thoughts of rebellion. No relatives of the nine men were allowed into the cemetery. There were no dignified burials, no parting words from loved ones. Thirty years later, on June 12 this year, Nigeria's Democracy Day, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu pardoned Saro-Wiwa and the others – the Ogoni Nine as they had become known. He went on to call them heroes and awarded them prestigious national titles. For Saro-Wiwa's daughter Noo Saro-Wiwa, who is now aged 49, and other relatives of the executed men, the pardons were moving but insufficient. In Ogoniland, it reopened old wounds that remained as deep as when they were first inflicted all those years ago. Saro Wiwa, accidental environmental activist Before his death at age 54, Saro-Wiwa wanted to be known as a great writer. A bundle of energy, he dabbled in many things, but books were his true love. More than two dozen books, poems and essays bore his name. His radio dramas and TV plays were wildly successful, particularly one that mocked the corrupt Nigerian elite, which took over after independence in 1960. In the short story Africa Kills Her Sun, Saro-Wiwa eerily warned of his killing: A man condemned to death pens a long letter to his lover, Zole, on the eve of his execution, telling her not to grieve. Saro-Wiwa's execution made him a martyr for the Ogoni people – the man whose death drew international attention to their plight. In 1958, when Nigeria discovered oil in the southern Niger Delta, of which Ogoniland is a part, a 17-year-old Saro-Wiwa wrote letters to the government and oil companies questioning how delta communities would benefit from oil dollars. Later on, his essays highlighted how Ogoniland still lacked infrastructure – roads, electricity, water – despite the oil. In October 1990, Saro-Wiwa led the Movement for the Survival of the Ogoni People (MOSOP), which he cofounded, to present the Ogoni Bill of Rights to the Nigerian government. In it, the Ogoni people denounced the dominance of the majority tribes (Hausa, Yoruba and Igbo) and the sidelining of minorities like the Ogoni. They called for political autonomy and direct control of oil profits, saying: 'Thirty years of Nigerian independence has done no more than outline the wretched quality of the leadership of the Nigerian majority ethnic groups and their cruelty as they have plunged the nation into ethnic strife, carnage, war, dictatorship, retrogression and the greatest waste of national resources ever witnessed in world history, turning generations of Nigerians, born and unborn into perpetual debtors.' It marked Saro-Wiwa as a thorn in the side of the military dictators, and from 1992 to 1993, he was arrested without charge several times. Still, he continued to condemn the slow death he said Ogonis were sentenced to. 'I accuse the oil companies of practising genocide against the Ogoni,' he wrote in one article. The Nigerian government, he said, was complicit. Saro-Wiwa's fervour took hold in Ogoniland. About 300,000 Ogonis, out of a population of half a million, marched with him in January 1993 to peacefully protest against the Nigerian government and Shell, the oil company that they said bore particular responsibility for the oil spills in their part of the delta. It was one of the largest mass demonstrations Nigeria had ever seen at the time. Protesters carried signs with messages like: 'Assassins, go home.' The protests were so large that the world began to notice the Ogonis and the slight, articulate man speaking for them. Soon, he was speaking at the United Nations, presenting the Ogonis' case there. Environmental rights groups like Greenpeace noted and supported his activism. By the end of that year, riots were breaking out, and angry protesters had destroyed oil pipelines worth billions of dollars. Shell was forced to suspend operations. The government promptly deployed a special task force to suppress what is now known as the Ogoni Rebellion. Soldiers brutally put down protests, carried out extrajudicial killings, and raped and tortured scores of people, according to reports by Amnesty International. In-fighting and mob actions in Ogoniland By 1994 and with soldiers still in Ogoniland, tensions were running high. Splits within the MOSOP leadership were also emerging with one side, led by Saro-Wiwa, calling for a stronger stance against the government and another preaching pacifism. Edward Kobani was a childhood friend of Saro-Wiwa's. He was also a pacifist who opposed his friend's mobilisation of young people in rallies that rang with angry rhetoric. His stance against violence upturned their relationship. More broadly, the mood in the region was turning against the pacifists, who were increasingly seen as sellouts colluding with the military regime and Shell although there is no evidence they were working with either. On May 21, 1994, word spread that some MOSOP leaders had gathered for a meeting at the chief's palace in Ogoniland's Gokana district but soldiers had blocked Saro-Wiwa from entering the area. Incensed, rioters marched to the meeting point and attacked those they could lay their hands on. Four of them – Kobani, Alfred Badey, and the brothers Samuel and Theophilus Orage, who were Saro-Wiwa's in-laws – were clubbed with everything from broken bottles to sharpened rakes. Then they were set on fire. The Nigerian military immediately accused Saro-Wiwa of inciting the killings and arrested him the next day. At a news conference, the military administrator of Rivers State, which Ogoniland is part of, declared MOSOP a 'terror group' and Saro Wiwa, a 'dictator who has … no room for dissenting views'. Eight other MOSOP leaders were arrested: Nordu Eawo, Saturday Dobee, John Kpuine, Paul Levera, Felix Nuate, Daniel Gbooko, Barinem Kiobel and Baribor Bera. In detention, the men were reportedly chained, beaten and denied medication or visits. Amnesty International described their trial by military tribunal as a 'sham'. Civilian defence lawyers were assaulted and their evidence discarded. In protest, the lawyers boycotted the hearings. Reports at the time described how Saro-Wiwa, knowing he was already condemned, looked ahead blankly or flipped through a newspaper in court. Fighting for justice for the Ogoni Nine Noo Saro-Wiwa was 19 and in her second year of college when her father was executed. Born in Port Harcourt, she lived and studied in London. On the day of the execution, she had no inkling that her world had changed. It wasn't until late that night that her mother, Maria, managed to reach her on her landline. Her first reaction was shock. Noo, who is now a travel writer and author based in London, told Al Jazeera in a phone call that it was hard to imagine the man who would amble into her room while she idled on her bed and thrust a book in her face with a 'Read this!' could be killed in such a way. After all, powerful international voices had spoken up to pressure the Nigerian government to release him: Nelson Mandela was among them. Noo's brother, Ken, was in New Zealand to attend the opening of the annual Commonwealth of Nations meeting and press for Nigeria's suspension. The association of former British colonial states was an important aid avenue for Nigeria at the time. The world, too, reacted with shock. Nigeria was suspended from the Commonwealth, and the United States and several other countries severed diplomatic ties. Noo remembers wondering why United Kingdom news channels were repeatedly running the story. That's when it dawned on Noo how great her father's task had been. Her family was determined to get justice, but it was a long road, Noo explained. In 1996, her brother and uncle sued Shell, which the Ogoni Nine families accused of complicity by aiding the military. Shell denied the allegations. The case, filed in the US under a law that allows for jurisdiction in foreign matters, dragged on until 2009 when the company settled for $15.5m. Shell said it was 'humanitarian and legal fees'. It mostly went towards paying lawyers and establishing a trust fund that still provides scholarships to Ogoni students, Noo said. It's annoying, though, she added, that critics claim her family and the others got rich on the settlement. 'It was a tiny amount,' she said. 'And even if it weren't, who wants their parent killed for a $15m settlement?' For many years, Noo said, she couldn't bear to visit Nigeria or hear the name 'Shell' without feeling overwhelmed. The company was also taken to The Hague in 2017 by a group of Ogoni Nine widows with the support of Amnesty International; however, a judge ruled there was no evidence that Shell was complicit in the government executions. Meanwhile, Amnesty said in a 2017 report that it had found evidence that Shell executives had met with military officials and 'encouraged' them to suppress protests. The company, the report said, transported soldiers and in 'at least one instance paid a military commander notorious for human rights violations'. Shell denied the claims and said it pleaded with the government for clemency for the Ogoni Nine. Noo has since found the strength to visit Ogoniland. She first went back in 2005, 10 years after her father's execution. The region has become even more volatile as ethnic militias now patrol the creeks, attacking soldiers, controlling oil pipelines and kidnapping oil workers at sea. Noo said her next book will focus on the devastation in her homeland. Her brother and mother died in the past decade, leaving her and Zina, her US-based twin sister. The losses set her back, she said, but she now frequently travels back home to document the oil spills, which are still going on, although Shell never resumed operations after the 1993 protests. Life as a writer abroad contrasts jarringly with her life back home, Noo said. One week, she is walking down the streets of Paris, and the next, she is standing in oil-soaked farms in Ogoniland. But her work in Nigeria, she added, reminds her of her father's struggle. 'My father was a real kind of David vs Goliath,' Noo said. 'Most people back then had never even heard of Ogoni. As I get older, I'm just always more in awe of what he achieved. It was quite incredible.' Too little, too late? Shell's leaky pipes continue to pump oil into the earth all these years later, environmental groups say. The company, which plans to sell its onshore assets and exit the Niger Delta after so many years of controversy, has always claimed its pipes are being sabotaged. Calculated or accidental, the oily devastation is visible in the eerie stillness of Ogoniland's mangroves, which should be alive with the sounds of chirping insects and croaking frogs. In the murky rivers floating with oil, old, stooped fishermen cast nets that bring up air. Nubari Saatah, an Ogoni, has long advocated for Ogonis to control their oil wealth, just as activists before him did. The president of the Niger Delta Congress political movement said Ogonis have remained resentful since the rebellion, primarily because Nigeria has not repaired the ruptured relationship or rectified injustices by giving Ogonis control over their land. Saatah, author of the 2022 book What We Must Do: Towards a Niger Delta Revolution, regularly appears on radio and TV shows to comment on the Niger Delta crisis and often places the blame for the region's instability at the government's doorstep. 'The violent militancy that engulfed the Niger Delta was a direct reaction to the violence visited on the peaceful methods employed by Ogoni,' Saatah said. 'Unfortunately for the Ogoni, the executions brought about a leadership vacuum that has still not been filled till today,' he added. A UN Environmental Programme report in 2011 found that more than 50 years of oil extraction in Ogoniland had caused the water in much of the region to be contaminated with extremely high levels of toxic hydrocarbons like benzene. In one village, benzene in the groundwater was up to 900 times the accepted World Health Organization standard. Cleaning up the devastation and restoring the land would require the 'world's most wide-ranging and long-term oil clean-up exercise ever undertaken', the report said. Although Nigeria and Shell committed in 2012 to a clean-up through the Hydrocarbon Pollution Remediation Project (HYPREP), more than a decade later, progress has been slow and hard to measure, critics said. Saatah blamed the government for the lack of results. Abuja, he said, has not funded the programme as promised. To Ogonis, that feels like a message that the government does not care, he added. Shell, meanwhile, has contributed $270m to the project. Al Jazeera reached out to HYPREP for comment but did not receive a response. Still, there is some change, Saatah noted. When the clean-up started, government authorities installed a sign at the community well in Saatah's village of Bomu that read: 'Warning! Do not drink this water.' People hardly glanced at the post as they fetched their drinking water, largely because there were no alternative water sources. In the past five or so years, however, HYPREP has installed potable water tanks in Bomu. Saatah worries, though, about whether the government will maintain the costs in the long run and whether the burden will be put on his community. Some in Ogoniland see Abuja's renewed interest through the recent pardoning of the Ogoni Nine as suspicious, coming as it does at a time when Nigeria is in the throes of one of its worst financial declines and when the government is desperate to extract and sell more crude oil. Resuming active exploration in Ogoniland, which stopped in 1993, could yield up to 500,000 barrels of crude per day, a MOSOP official, which is still operating, told reporters last year. That would be on top of the current 1.7 million barrels per day produced from other parts of the delta. 'The lines are there to be connected between oil resumption and the pardon of the Ogoni Nine,' Saatah said. The pardons, he said, were to sweeten the Ogoni people and avoid any opposition. As things stand, though, Ogoni communities are unlikely to agree to renewed exploration, he added, first, because locals still cannot control oil profits and, second, because rather than make Ogonis happy, Tinubu's pardoning of the Ogoni Nine has only worsened tensions internally, Saatah said. Rifts that emerged during the 1994 crisis have not healed. The fact that the president's speech did not acknowledge the four murdered MOSOP members in the mob action that led to Saro-Wiwa's arrest has angered their families and supporters, some of whom fault the aggressive stance of Saro-Wiwa for what happened. Noo and the Ogoni Nine families are not completely satisfied with the government's move either. The national honour was a welcome surprise, Noo said, but the pardons were not enough. 'A pardon suggests that something, that a crime had been committed in the first place,' she said. 'But nothing's been committed.' What she wants, she added, is for the conviction of Ken Saro-Wiwa and the Ogoni Nine to be thrown out of the country's history books.
