Kí nìdí tí iye owó epo fi ń mú kí iye owó oúnjẹ bí tòmátì gòkè lọ?
Ronú nípa obìnrin tí ń tà tòmátì ní Mile 12. Àgbẹ̀ náà ń san owó agbára láti gbin wọn, ọkọ̀ kan gbé wọn kúrò ní oko, ọkọ̀ akẹ́rù mìíràn mú wọn wá ọ̀pọ̀ ọgọ́rùn-ún kìlómítà sí Èkó, lẹ́yìn náà oníṣòwò àgbà náà san owó ọkọ̀, àti pé alátúta náà san owó náà lẹ́ẹ̀kan sí i. Nígbà tí àwọn tòmátì yẹn bá dé ọ̀dọ̀ ìyá kan tí ó ń ṣe oúnjẹ alẹ́, epo tí ó ni owó mèremère ti wọ inú owó náà ní ọ̀pọ̀ ìgbà.
Àwọn ìdáhùn tó wà lórí ojú-ìwé yìí ni a túmọ̀ láti èdè Gẹ̀ẹ́sì nípasẹ̀ ẹ̀rọ, kò sì tíì ṣàyẹ̀wò rẹ̀ láti ọwọ́ atúmọ̀-èdè kan.
Ibi tí èyí ti wá
Article on X Article by @atiku on X · https://x.com/atiku/status/2094810791937446399 2026-09-01 ›
A Nigerian earning the ₦70,000 statutory minimum wage requires ₦56,000 merely to buy 40 litres of petrol at ₦1,400 per litre. That is 80 per cent of an entire month’s minimum wage. Before that worker buys food, pays rent, electricity, school fees or medical bills, four-fifths of his monthly wage can disappear into just 40 litres of petrol.
Meanwhile, citizens of Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and the UAE generally earn vastly more while paying less per litre. That is the human face missing from your economic argument.
And the pain does not end at the petrol station. Take the woman selling tomatoes at Mile 12. The farmer pays for energy to cultivate. A vehicle moves the tomatoes from the farm. Another truck carries them hundreds of kilometres to Lagos. The wholesaler pays transport. The retailer pays transport again. By the time those tomatoes reach the mother preparing dinner, expensive fuel has entered the final price several times over.