eNaira, POS Wahala & the Coming Age of Money Control

Photo: Activistpost.com

When Your Money Is No Longer Really Yours

Let me ask you something. Remember that period in late 2022 going into early 2023? The one where you were standing in a queue at a POS point somewhere in Lagos or Kano or Owerri, sweating under the sun, begging a woman with a small shop and a tired smartphone to please help you withdraw just five thousand naira? The one where she looked at you with that mixture of pity and helplessness and said, "Network is bad, and I don't even have cash"? Yeah. That period. Because what most Nigerians experienced during that naira redesign saga was not just a currency crisis. It was, whether anybody planned it that way or not, a full preview of what a cashless control system actually feels like when it lands on ordinary people.

The eNaira Experiment Nobody Asked For

The Central Bank of Nigeria launched the eNaira in October 2021 with plenty of fanfare. Godwin Emefiele was grinning. Nigeria was being celebrated as the first African country to launch a central bank digital currency (CBDC). Fine. But let us be honest — how many Nigerians actually use the eNaira today? The adoption numbers have been embarrassingly low, and even the CBN themselves have had to admit this. A 2023 report revealed that out of over 200 million Nigerians, only a few hundred thousand wallets were active. That is not adoption. That is a school project that never left the classroom.

But here is what should worry you: the failure of the eNaira in terms of popularity does not mean the idea is dead. It means the government is still looking for the right moment, the right pressure, the right crisis to make it unavoidable. And if you think that sounds dramatic, just remember that nobody thought Nigeria would ban large cash withdrawals either — until they did it.

POS Wahala Showed Us the Cracks

During the 2023 cash scarcity, Nigerians who were told to "go cashless" discovered very quickly that the cashless infrastructure Nigeria has does not work for everyone. Consider what happened:

• POS agents ran out of cash and started charging ₦1,500 to withdraw ₦10,000 — a 15% surcharge on your own money
• Bank transfer apps were failing because servers were overwhelmed with traffic
• Market women, okada riders, and roadside traders — the engine of the informal economy — had no way to collect payment or make change
• Elderly Nigerians and people in rural areas were practically locked out of their own savings
• Small business owners watched their sales collapse because customers had no cash and transfers were bouncing

This is the reality that digital currency cheerleaders do not put in their PowerPoint presentations. A system that looks clean and efficient on paper becomes a weapon of exclusion in practice, especially in a country where electricity is still a luxury and internet connectivity is not guaranteed.

Digital Money, Digital Leash

Now let us zoom out a little bit, because this is not just a Nigeria problem — it is a global design. Across the world, governments and central banks are developing CBDCs, and the features built into these digital currencies should give every thinking person pause. Unlike the cash in your pocket, a CBDC can be programmed. Programmable money means a government can decide that your money expires if you don't spend it within 90 days. They can block you from buying certain goods. They can turn off your wallet if you attend a protest they don't like. They can restrict you from sending money to certain people or organisations. This is not conspiracy theory — these are features that are actively being discussed in CBDC design documents from the Bank for International Settlements and various central banks. China's digital yuan already has expiry date functionality. And if you think Nigerian authorities would not be tempted by such tools, you have not been paying attention to how this government treats dissent.

"But Cash Is Dirty and Criminals Use It"

This is the argument they always bring out. Cash enables corruption, they say. Drug dealers use cash. Terrorists use cash. So we must go digital for the sake of transparency. My friend, let us reason together. The biggest corruption scandals in Nigeria — the ones involving billions of naira — did not happen in black nylon bags. They happened through bank transfers, through real estate purchases, through cryptocurrency, through shell companies. Corrupt officials have always found ways around cash restrictions. The people who truly suffer when cash is eliminated are the trader in Ariaria market, the farmer in Benue State, the widow in Bauchi who does not have a smartphone and has never seen a QR code in her life.

Restricting cash does not fight corruption. It just removes the last financial tool that ordinary people can use without being monitored.

What Can Nigerians Actually Do?

Before you feel completely helpless, there are practical things worth considering as this system continues to evolve:

• Understand what you're agreeing to: Read the terms and conditions of digital payment platforms. Know what data they collect and who they share it with.
• Support policy accountability: Push your representatives to demand that any CBDC legislation includes strong privacy protections and civil society oversight.
• Diversify how you store value: Whether that is some physical cash, hard assets, or other instruments — do not put all your eggs in one digital basket controlled by a single authority.
• Build community networks: Local cooperative systems and trade associations can create buffer systems that work even when digital infrastructure fails.

The Bigger Picture We Cannot Ignore

What Nigeria experienced between 2022 and 2023 was not an accident or just poor policy execution, depending on who you ask. But regardless of intent, it gave millions of Nigerians a lived lesson in what financial dependency on a digital system feels like when that system is used as a policy tool. When money becomes purely digital and purely controlled by the state, you do not own money anymore. You have a permission slip that the government can revoke. That is the honest truth. And in a country where institutions are fragile, where political pressure is real, and where the rule of law is still a work in progress, giving any government complete visibility and control over every kobo you earn and spend is not a feature. E be like say na trap.

Stay informed, stay questioning, and most importantly — stay ready. Because in Nigeria, the next policy that changes your life may not come with a warning. It might just come as an announcement on a Tuesday afternoon that cash withdrawal limits have been adjusted. Again.