Introduction

In my previous article, I raised concerns about whether Nigeria truly needed yet another government-linked entity—RAMCO—given the already crowded field of agencies like REA, GAMCO, TCN, and NERC. I questioned whether this was genuine reform or just more bureaucratic bloat.

But after digging deeper into the numbers and the rationale behind its creation, I’ve come to a different conclusion. RAMCO might actually be one of the more sensible infrastructure decisions this government has made.

Here’s why.

The Elephant in the Room: We Built It, Then Walked Away

Let’s start with a sobering statistic: Nigeria has spent N263 billion (funded by the World Bank and African Development Bank) to install 82 megawatts of solar-hybrid power across 22 federal universities and three teaching hospitals since 2017.

That’s real money. Real infrastructure. That’s real progress toward electrification.

And yet, when REA went back to inspect the first phase of these projects, they found that only three out of seven sites were still in “good or usable” condition.

This isn’t a story of shoddy engineering or corrupt contractors. REA’s chief executive, Abba Aliyu, was candid about the real problem: “We had not adequately institutionalised what happens after the commissioning of the project.”

Let that sink in. The hardware was fine. The engineering worked. But at one university, the company set up to bill for electricity existed only on paper—it never collected a single naira.

Nigeria didn’t build bad solar projects. Nigeria built good solar projects and then forgot to plan for what happens the day after the ribbon-cutting ceremony.

Why This Matters More Than You Think

There are two more numbers that put this failure into perspective:

1. 150 MW of additional capacity is already under construction or in the pipeline.
2. N1.8 billion in savings over five years—that’s the amount saved at just one site (Alex Ekwueme Federal University in Ndufu-Alike) that is being run properly.

So, we’re not talking about a small pilot program. We’re talking about a growing national asset that could eventually approach 200 MW of generation capacity. That’s enough to power hundreds of thousands of homes.

But if the first seven projects taught us anything, it’s that solar panels don’t maintain themselves—and batteries don’t replace themselves. Without a proper maintenance and revenue model, this entire N263 billion investment risks turning into a graveyard of rusting solar panels.

That’s what RAMCO is designed to prevent.

What RAMCO Actually Does (and Doesn’t Do)

Here’s where the scepticism around RAMCO starts to weaken. Unlike many government agencies, RAMCO isn’t asking for a blank cheque.

What RAMCO IS PLANNED TO BE:

• A professionally run company incorporated under Nigerian corporate law, not a government department
• A revenue-collection mechanism that meters consumption, bills institutions, and actually collects payments
• A maintenance reserve that sets money aside today for battery and inverter replacements tomorrow
• An asset manager that makes the portfolio attractive to private investors

What RAMCO IT SHOULD NOT BE:

• A way to recoup the original N263 billion construction cost (that money is already spent)
• A mechanism for Treasury bailouts (the whole point is to get off that cycle)
• An excuse to raise tariffs above what institutions are already paying for diesel and grid power

The pitch to universities and hospitals is actually quite clever: “You were already spending money on diesel and unreliable grid power. Redirect that same money toward a tariff that keeps this system running for two decades.”

It’s not an additional expense—it’s a swap. And the math should increasingly work in RAMCO’s favor.

Why Solar Economics Are Finally on Nigeria’s Side

Here’s something that doesn’t get talked about enough: the global cost of solar has collapsed.

In 2024, solar PV module prices fell to roughly $0.10 per watt**, according to the International Energy Agency’s Photovoltaic Power Systems Programme. A decade of massive investment—over **$50 billion poured into new PV manufacturing capacity between 2011 and 2021—drove costs down by more than 80%.

China did the heavy lifting, now accounting for over 80% of global solar manufacturing capacity. Bigger factories drove down per-panel costs. Lower costs pulled in more demand. More demand justified bigger factories. The virtuous cycle repeated.

The IEA now counts solar PV among the cheapest sources of new electricity generation in most markets, with more capital flowing into solar than into every other electricity-generation technology combined.

For Nigeria, this cost collapse is colliding with a currency and fuel problem:

• Petrol prices have jumped more than 400% since fuel-subsidy removal in May 2023
• Generators are becoming more expensive to run every month
• Solar systems, meanwhile, are becoming cheaper every year

A basic entry-level home solar setup with battery storage that can run essential appliances now costs under ₦1.5 million. Pair panels with storage, and the pitch writes itself: generate during the day, store it, use it after dark, and skip the fuel line entirely.

The Bigger Bet: Creating Investable Assets

Beyond just maintenance, RAMCO represents a bigger strategic bet: making Nigeria’s renewable energy assets investable.

Right now, a solar project funded by the World Bank is a line item in a government spreadsheet. It’s not something a private investor can look at, evaluate, and decide to put money into.

But a professionally managed portfolio of revenue-generating solar assets—approaching 200 MW as more projects come online—becomes something entirely different. It becomes an asset class. It becomes something that pension funds, infrastructure investors, and development finance institutions can actually underwrite.

REA is also using this moment to push domestic manufacturing. They have joint development deals with seven Nigerian manufacturers across panels, batteries, inverters, and street lighting. The theory isn’t just about building capacity—it’s about creating predictable demand that allows local manufacturers to scale.

The Hard Questions That Remain

I’m not saying RAMCO is a guaranteed success. The real test will come down to undramatic but crucial questions:

• Will university/ parastatal administrators actually pay the tariff? Or will they treat it like another government expense to be ignored?
• Will maintenance reserves stay ring-fenced when budgets get tight elsewhere?
• Will private capital actually show up for a state-linked asset manager, or will investors see “government-linked” as a red flag?

These aren’t technical problems. They’re institutional problems. They’re about whether Nigerian institutions—universities, hospitals, and government agencies—can be disciplined enough to make a self-sustaining model work.

REA has committed to public reporting on progress by the end of November 2026, with deliverables including asset valuation, formal portfolio transfer to RAMCO, contractor onboarding for Phase II sites, and tariff negotiations with each institution.

Conclusion: Cautious Optimism

In my previous article, I questioned whether RAMCO was just another layer of bureaucracy. And I still worry about institutional duplication in Nigeria’s broader energy ecosystem.

But on its own merits,if properly implemented, RAMCO is addressing a genuine, urgent problem: Nigeria has built hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth of renewable energy assets, and unless someone takes responsibility for maintaining them, they will decay into uselessness.

That’s not a problem you solve with more policy documents. It’s a problem you solve with meters, bills, revenue collection, and maintenance reserves. It’s unglamorous work. It doesn’t make headlines. But it’s the difference between infrastructure that lasts 20 years and infrastructure that lasts two.

Aliyu put it best when he told the room: “We could have chosen not to look. We looked, because you cannot fix what you are unwilling to name.”

RAMCO appears to be the result of that honesty. Whether it works will depend on execution, discipline, and a little bit of luck. But for the first time in a long time, it appears like Nigeria is actually trying to build something that can sustain itself—not just something that looks good at a commissioning ceremony.

What do you think? Can RAMCO break the cycle of abandoned public infrastructure, or is it destined to become another agency in the pile? Share your thoughts in the comments.