By: Kehinde Kenku

So, here we are. Nigeria, standing at the edge of something new. Carbon credits. It sounds technical, maybe even boring. But it’s not. It’s about money. It’s about land. It’s about people. And, honestly, it’s about the future.

Let’s back up a bit. In 2021, the government passed the Climate Change Act. Big deal, they said. Then, just recently, they rolled out the Carbon Market Activation Policy. Even bigger deal, they said. The numbers? Huge. They’re talking about unlocking $2.5 billion by 2030. That’s a lot of zeros. The pitch is simple: Nigeria can sell carbon credits to the world. In return, we get jobs, investments, and a cleaner environment. Sounds good, right?

But, as always, there’s a catch. There’s always a catch.

Take Cross River, for example. Beautiful place. Lush forests. But ask the people there how they feel about carbon projects. Some will tell you it’s been rough. Forest conservation projects came in, promising the world. But then, suddenly, people couldn’t use their own land. Couldn’t farm. Couldn’t hunt. Tensions rose. Some called it “carbon colonialism.” That’s a heavy word. But it stuck.

See, the thing is, these projects are supposed to help. But sometimes, they just help the wrong people. Or, worse, they help outsiders more than locals. That’s the risk. If we’re not careful, Nigeria could end up selling “carbon credits” on paper, while real people get nothing. Or even lose what little they have.

There’s a way to do it right, though. It’s not rocket science. It’s just about being fair. First, you need free, prior, and informed consent. That means you actually talk to people. You listen. You explain. You don’t just show up with a contract and a smile. Second, you need to share the benefits. Not just with the government. Not just with big companies. With the communities. The people who live there. The ones who will feel the impact, good or bad.

And then, there’s accountability. That’s a big word, but it just means someone has to check. Did the project really cut emissions? Did it really help people? Or was it just a fancy way to make money? If you can’t answer those questions, maybe you shouldn’t be selling carbon credits at all.

Some folks say carbon markets are the future. Maybe they’re right. If done well, they can bring real change. Cleaner air. More jobs. Healthier forests. But if done wrong? It’s just another hustle. Another way for the rich to get richer, while the poor get left behind.

Nigeria’s got a choice to make. Regulators, civil society, investors—they all have a role. Will they build a market that’s honest? One that’s based on science, not just paperwork? Will they make sure projects actually cut emissions, not just move numbers around? Will they protect biodiversity, health, and livelihoods? Or will they let it slide, as long as the money keeps flowing?

It’s not just about climate. It’s about trust. If Nigeria gets this right, the world will notice. We’ll be seen as leaders. As a country that can balance growth and justice. But if we get it wrong? Well, people will talk. They’ll say we sold out. That we put profits over people. That we let outsiders call the shots, again.

So, what’s it going to be? A sustainable future, or just another extractive industry in green disguise? The answer isn’t clear yet. But one thing’s for sure—whatever happens next, it’s going to matter. Not just for Nigeria. For the whole world, too.

And maybe, just maybe, this time we’ll get it right. Or at least, we’ll try. Because the stakes? They’re higher than ever. And the world is watching.