It is a Monday evening at the University of Ibadan. When Fatima got to Awo Hall, she glanced quickly at her wristwatch and sighed. It was 4:20pm. Beads of sweat fell off her face as she climbed the stairway leading to her room, so she dug into her bag for her face towel. She had been trekking – all the way from her department at the Faculty of Pharmacy. But it wasn’t the day’s stress that bothered her. It was food. “Now that my food stuffs have finished again, I have to restock if I’m ever going to eat today,” she muttered. Fatima disliked eating from cafeterias, not just because she didn’t have money to spare, but also because she distrusted the safety of the food. “I can’t eat in restaurants or cafeterias. Never!” She always tells her friends.
Like lightning, Fatima bolted from her room, shopping bag in hand. She sped down the stairway and was soon outside the hall. No time to trek to UI gate, so she quickly entered keke. On arriving at the gate, she hurried out towards the main road. “Bodija! Bodija!” she yelled with her tiny voice and then a keke came to a halt beside her. “200 naira,” the keke driver bellowed while sticking out his head. “No. 100 naira,” Fatima replied. “Na 200 naira,” the keke driver insisted. “No. 100 naira,” Fatima argued back. “Oya enter,” said the keke driver in a defeating tone. Minutes later, Fatima would be seen inside the busy Bodija market scanning through food items like an eagle.
“Is this garri fine?” she finally asked a trader who had almost lost her voice from beckoning loudly at potential buyers. “Yes na,” replied the woman excitedly, “In fact, you go come buy am again.” Fatima gave her a doubtful look. “That’s what they always say,” she thought aloud, “Yet, I’ll still see sand inside.” Left without a choice, and especially as she was running out of time, Fatima bought the garri. She looked at her item list and made a tick. Palm oil was next.
Fatima moved cautiously from one palm oil seller to another, staring very hard as though she wanted to bore through the containers. She was examining the colour and texture. Playing in her head was a video of Aproko Doctor warning the public to be careful when buying palm oil in order to avoid buying a fake one. She had also read several reports about the adulteration of palm oil with harmful dyes. In fact, she had once been a victim. She remembered that day vividly. She had poured the oil inside a hot pot and it started foaming like detergent. Shivers ran down her spine as she recalled the incidence. She stared intently at the palm oil before her. “Is this oil fine?” she asked the seller. “Yes na,” came the usual reply, “Na correct oil.”
While searching for vegetables, Fatima was nearly run over by a wheelbarrow loaded with ground pepper. Luckily for her, she leaped out of the way just in time. “Madam sorry o,” the wheelbarrow pusher apologized. Fatima regained her balance and when she saw the pepper inside the wheelbarrow, she became engulfed with rage. But it wasn’t the near hit that provoked her. It was her experience buying ground pepper loaded in wheelbarrows. That day, she had put the pepper in her food but it wasn’t pepperish. Wondering whether she did not put enough, she added more. Still nothing. It was when she poured in a large quantity, enough to make the food unbearable pepperish, and it still did not show, that she knew something was amiss. She then pinched the pepper and placed it on her tongue and felt just a tinge of pepperiness. She never bought the pepper again. Her roommate who still uses it said she was only unlucky to buy the fake one that day. “So how do I tell fake from real?” she had asked, but her roommate had no answer. “Sorry madam,” the wheelbarrow pusher apologized again, with his palms together in a pleading gesture. That was when Fatima realized herself.
After buying vegetables, Fatima decided to get some powdered milk and cereal. She headed straight for her favourite shop. Along the way, some traders selling unbranded milk and cereal beckoned vehemently at her. “Come na!” screamed a voice above the others, “Na the same thing with those branded ones, and e dey cheaper.” “It’s not the same thing,” Fatima argued back in her mind, “I don’t even know where they are produced. No labelling. No manufacturing date. No expiry date. No NAFDAC Registration Number. Nothing!” At that moment, something struck Fatima. She had suddenly realized that both the palm oil and garri she bought had no manufacturing or expiry date. Her heart sank. “So how will one tell if such food items have expired?” she pondered deeply. “Or do they never expire?” “Or is that people will buy them all before they expire? Or is it when fungi or mould start growing in them, when they start changing colour, when the start changing taste, when they start smelling bad, that one will know that they have expired?” Fatima almost bumped into a tray of fresh tomatoes. “Waka dey look front!” a woman barked behind her.
Alas, Fatima was done and ready to go. She glanced at her wristwatch for the eighth time. 6:25pm. Slowly, she dragged herself out of the market, her shopping bag so heavy that she had to keep switching it from one hand to the other; at some point, she carried it with both hands. She soon got to the roadside. “UI!” she gasped as a keke driver stopped by to find passengers. “200 naira!” the keke driver snapped. Fatima crawled in, already too drained from hunger, exhaustion, and lingering fears about food safety.
How Safe is Food in Nigeria?
In Nigeria, everyone eats food – or at least depends on food for survival – but not everyone is concerned about food safety. Yet, unsafe foods creep around us in markets, on streets, in shops, in restaurants, in households, in cooking pots, and on plates, before finally ending up in our stomachs. The health implication, whether immediate or gradual, ranges from malnutrition to diseases, such as infections and cancers, and even death. Nevertheless, there are millions of Nigerians who, like Fatima, question the safety of food. Of course, answers are all around us. But to understand the bigger picture, we must clarify some key concepts before exploring the issue thoroughly.
Food safety refers to the practice of handling, preparing, processing, storing, marketing, and distributing food in ways that prevent contamination and foodborne illness, thereby ensuring that the food is safe for human consumption. This practice spans across the food value chain, from production to final consumption. Global food safety standards are established by the Codex Alimentarius Commission, which was jointly created by the World Health Organization (WHO) and the Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) in 1963. The Codex Alimentarius (also Food Code) is a collection of standards, guidelines, and codes of practice to protect the health of consumers and ensure fair practices in the food trade. Alongside international organizations, countries around the world have established authorities to monitor and ensure food safety. What, then, is food safety like in Nigeria?
To call a spade a spade, the current state of food safety in Nigeria is a mirage. Not even Fatima’s story captures it all. As a matter of fact, Nigeria records nearly 50 million foodborne diseases and more than 53,000 deaths from unsafe food annually, with children under the age of five accounting for more than 80% of the foodborne disease burden. Over 40 million diarrheal illnesses are linked to foodborne pathogens such as Salmonella, Shigella, E. coli, Campylobacter, and rotavirus. Altogether, illnesses and death from unsafe food result in a staggering loss of 4.26 million years of healthy life. These statistics are not surprising, as Nigeria’s food value chain is bedevilled with unsafe practices, ranging from adulteration to chemical ripening, harmful preservatives, poor processing, and contamination.
Food becomes adulterated when any substance which is injurious to health is added, or when any constituent of the food has been in whole or in part omitted, substituted, damage concealed, including substances added to increase bulk or weight. In Nigeria, one of the most adulterated food products is palm oil. Stories of adulterated palm oil have become rife among many Nigerians. It has been reported that some traders are adulterating palm oil with water and toxic chemical dyes, such as bromate and Sudan red, to increase volume and maximize profits. Incidences have been reported across Lagos, with the Lagos State Consumer Protection Agency (LASCOPA) apprehending culprits. These dyes used to adulterate palm oil can cause organ damage and cancers. Unknowingly, many Nigerians expose themselves to such risk.
Another unsafe practice is chemical ripening. Some farmers and traders forcefully ripen fruits using calcium carbide. Fruits commonly affected include apples, mangoes, bananas, plantains, and pawpaw, and sometimes, oranges and pineapple. Calcium carbide generally contains impurities such as arsenic, lead particles, phosphorus, among others, that pose several serious health risks, ranging from irritation to the mouth and nose, weakness, skin damage, vomiting, kidney failure, liver failure, heart failure, and cancers. In a recent study published in February 2026, pineapples, oranges, and bananas purchased from markets in Bauchi and were found to have been forcefully fruits ripened with calcium carbide. Earlier, in March 2025, NAFDAC seized truckloads of mangoes artificially ripened with calcium carbide in Gombe.
The use of harmful preservatives is another growing concern. Some farmers and traders have been accused of using harmful chemicals to preserve food products. These chemicals range formalin, sodium hydroxide, Sniper, and kerosene. Food products mostly affected include frozen fish, stockfish, meat, grains, and bread. The illegal use of sniper, aluminium phosphide, and organophosphate to preserve grains has been widely reported. It is important to note that even approved preservatives, when used in beyond standard limits, become can become harmful.
Food contamination due to unhygienic handling, poor processing, and improper storage, is perhaps the biggest driver of unsafe food in Nigeria. These unsafe practices are widespread in the informal sector and among street vendors, which serve over 70% of Nigerians. Studies have consistently identified microbial contamination as the most common food safety hazard in Nigeria. Frequently affected foods include palm oil, rice, maize, cassava, tomatoes, pepper, leafy vegetables, among others. Contamination often occurs during food preparation due to poor hygiene, careless handling, and the use of spoiled food items. There have been reports about the resurgence of tuberculosis in Nigerian abattoirs amid poor hygiene. There have been reports about the use of rotten tomatoes and peppers by some food vendors and restaurant owners. There have also been reports about how local grinding machines are lacing foods with deadly metals. Food contamination is what triggered the recent shut down of Alexander Brown Hall (ABH) Cafeteria after students reported seeing iron filings, houseflies, and cockroaches in their food. So, you see, the problem stares us in the face!
Yet, beyond the aforementioned issues are more insidious practices associated with pre-packaged foods, such as a lack of branding, and missing, inadequate, or false product information, such as labelling, manufacturing and expiry dates, and NAFDAC registration numbers. Manufacturers and traders sometimes employ deceptive advertisement tactics to lure buyers. Coupled with missing and inadequate product information, consumers are easily misled. Our previous article on fat-filled milk powder highlights this problem. When consumers do not know what they are consuming, they cannot trust it and, hence, cannot feel safe.
Recipe for a Healthy Nigeria: Food Safety Regulation and Consumer Protection
If food products were well-regulated in Nigeria, then food safety crisis would not have been so rampant. And when food is unsafe, consumers are not protected either. The National Food and Drug Administration and Control (NAFDAC), Standard Organization of Nigeria (SON), the Federal Competition and Consumer Protection Commission (FCCPC), the Federal Ministry of Health, the Federal Ministry of Agriculture and Food Security, and the Nigeria Customs Service, are the key agencies responsible for food safety regulation and consumer protection. At the forefront are NAFDAC, SON, and FCCPC.
NAFDAC monitors the manufacture, importation, registration, distribution, and sale of food products, while routinely conducting inspections, laboratory testing, market surveillance, and enforcement operations. SON develops and enforces standards for food quality, packaging, and labelling. FCCPC protects consumers by investigating complaints and addressing unfair trade practices and unsafe products. All three agencies abide by the Codex Alimentarius and collectively form the backbone of Nigeria’s food safety regulation and consumer protection system. So, how come they seem ineffective?
The challenge is not simply the absence of laws but the difficulty in enforcing them across a vast and largely informal food system. Most foods in Nigeria are produced, processed, and distributed by small-scale farmers, traders, and street vendors who are difficult to monitor effectively. Moreover, regulatory agencies are struggle with limited manpower, inadequate funding, insufficient laboratory capacity, overlapping responsibilities, porous borders, and low compliance with food safety guidelines. Consequently, adulterated, contaminated, and poorly labelled food products persist, exposing millions of Nigerians to severe health risks.
One thing stands clear; addressing these challenges demands more than occasional market raids and public warnings. Regulatory agencies must be better funded, better equipped, and empowered with more workers, modern laboratories, and stronger surveillance systems. Cross-governmental collaboration down to the grassroot level should be strengthened to eliminate overlaps and close regulatory gaps, while swift penalties should be imposed on food safety offenders, serving as a strong deterrent to future violations.
You and I can make a difference: by rejecting unsafe foods; verifying product information, such as labelling, NAFDAC registration numbers, and manufacturing and expiry dates before purchase; and handling, washing, storing, and cooking food properly. While playing our role as consumers, we must also hold manufacturers, traders, and vendors accountable by reporting violations and seeking redress when necessary.
It is 11:45 p.m. at Awo Hall. Fatima has still not eaten. She is sitting on her bed, staring into space. The palm oil she bought is fake.