By Oloye Ray
When NEPA Goes Off, Romance Comes On: Fayose’s Electric Population Theory
By 7 p.m., Nigeria’s familiar ritual begins.
The lights go off. Television screens go blank. Fans stop spinning. Phones begin searching desperately for the last few bars of battery. And, according to former Ekiti State Governor Ayodele Fayose, another activity may quietly begin inside many Nigerian homes.
Romance.
Fayose recently offered a humorous explanation for Nigeria’s population growth, arguing that poor electricity supply contributes to people going to bed early—and, with little else to do, spending more time with their spouses.
His logic was simple: when darkness arrives early, entertainment options disappear. No television. No nightlife. Sometimes, not even a functioning fan to provide background noise.
So, as Fayose put it, people “simply stay at home.”
And apparently, staying at home comes with consequences.
His controversial joke has turned an everyday Nigerian frustration—the electricity crisis—into a comedy sketch about population growth.
For millions of Nigerians, however, darkness is hardly funny.
When electricity disappears, businesses shut down or spend more money on fuel. Students struggle to study. Small businesses face higher operating costs, while families turn to generators, rechargeable lamps and power banks just to survive another evening.
Fayose’s comments may have been delivered with humour, but underneath the laughter is a serious national conversation: what happens to a country when darkness becomes part of its daily timetable?
A reliable power supply could mean more than bright streets and cooler bedrooms. It could support businesses, extend working hours, improve nightlife and give young people more opportunities for recreation.
Perhaps, then, the solution to Nigeria’s population question is not to blame romance.
Maybe Nigerians simply need electricity.
Because when the lights come on, the television comes back, the fan starts spinning, the phone gets charged and the neighbourhood becomes lively again.
And suddenly, Nigerians may discover there are plenty of things to do after 7 p.m.—besides going to bed.
For now, though, one thing remains certain: in Nigeria, even a power outage can become a political argument, an economic problem—and, thanks to Fayose, a population theory.
