By Al-Amin Isa
In the land where labour once roared, silence now echoes. Nigerian workers — those whose sweat oils the nation’s wheels — live today under what can only be described as a mirage of hope, crafted and maintained by the very unions that claim to defend them.
The phrase “Nigerian workers under the armpit of Trade Unions: definition of hope in mirage” captures the tragedy of labour representation in the country. To be under the “armpit” of trade unions once meant shelter — protection from the blows of exploitation. But for many workers today, it has become a suffocating hold; a sweaty comfort that conceals exploitation under the guise of solidarity.
The “mirage” part is even clearer: the workers’ hope, shimmering in the distance, fades each time they draw near.
The Mirage of Representation
Trade unions in Nigeria — the NLC, TUC, NUPENG, PENGASSAN, and their cousins in the transport sector — have long presented themselves as champions of the oppressed. Yet, in reality, many have become comfortable extensions of the same elite network they publicly condemn.
They do not live in Aso Rock, but they dine with those who do. Their tables are long, their pockets deep, and their slogans hollow. The modern unionist has mastered the art of deception — like the rat that bites and blows at the same time.
Each month, a chunk of the average worker’s meagre pay is sliced away in the name of union dues. Five percent here, another deduction there — all “for the struggle.” But the struggle, it seems, has gone missing, while the union coffers overflow.
The Billion-Naira Question: Where Is NUPENG’s Money?
The petroleum unions, particularly NUPENG and PENGASSAN, deserve special mention — not for heroism, but for hypocrisy. These are organizations that have practically held the nation’s economy by the jugular for decades, using threats of strikes and shutdowns as tools of blackmail, all in the name of protecting workers’ rights.
But when Aliko Dangote accused NUPENG of collecting ₦50,000 from every tanker that loads petroleum products across Nigeria, silence followed. No denial. No transparency. Nothing.
Let’s do the math.
• Nigeria consumes about 80 million litres of petrol and diesel daily.
• A standard tanker carries about 33,000 litres.
• That means 2,424 tankers move products daily.
• Multiply that by ₦50,000 per tanker — ₦121.2 million daily.
• That’s ₦3.6 billion monthly, or about ₦43.6 billion yearly.
Add kerosene and gas, and the figure balloons to ₦49 billion a year.
₦49 billion! From Nigerians, indirectly, through the fuel they buy — not through government allocations or corporate profits, but through the sweat of everyday consumption.
Now the billion-naira question: What has NUPENG done with this money?
What investments have been made? What empowerment projects? What infrastructure for the workers they claim to serve? The silence is deafening.
The Illusion of Solidarity
Every May Day, the same ritual plays out. Union leaders mount the podium, raise their fists, and preach resistance. They chant slogans about justice, fair wages, and dignity. Yet, these same leaders collect dues from salaries they publicly declare “can’t take workers home.”
They dine with the politicians they accuse of corruption. Their children attend the same foreign schools. Their lifestyles mirror those of the oppressors. Their bellies, swollen with privilege, compete with those of the national leaders they pretend to oppose.
The Transport Mafia
In the parks and motorways, NURTW and RTEAN operate as local emperors. A driver pays as much as ₦10,000 daily just to load passengers — over ₦3 million a year — before paying state and local levies. Multiply that across thousands of drivers nationwide and you’ll understand why poverty remains constant while the union elite grow richer.
When states attempt to curb their extortion and violence, the TUC President threatens to shut down the nation in protest — not for workers’ rights, but to protect parasitic unions.
These groups are not victims. They are the real cabals, the subsidy cabals, the invisible hands that make life unbearable for ordinary Nigerians while posing as their defenders.
Who Will Save the Worker?
Nigeria’s workers stand today between two predators: a government that fails to care and a labour movement that refuses to change. Both feast on the same carcass — the struggling citizen.
The tragedy is not only that the worker’s hope is misplaced, but that he still believes in the mirage. He still walks toward it, praying for shade that will never come.
Until the Nigerian worker demands transparency, accountability, and independence from the unions, the story will remain the same. The slogans will continue. The strikes will come and go. The leaders will grow richer. And the worker — the true backbone of the nation — will continue to bend under the weight of deception.
Conclusion
The time has come to unmask the hypocrisy.
The trade unions are not merely weak — they are complicit.
They are not the voice of the people — they are echoes of the cabals.
The real enemies of Nigerian progress are not always in power; sometimes, they sit right beside the powerless, waving the flag of solidarity while selling their souls for profit.
It is time Nigerians spoke out.
The mirage must end.
The workers deserve more than empty hope — they deserve truth.
