Can Poverty Justify Piracy?

Last year, I penned an article about the high cost of movie tickets in Nigeria, highlighting how they are largely unaffordable against the backdrop of our minimum wage. For many Nigerians, the financial burden of housing, food, familial obligations, and clothing often takes precedence over leisure activities like visiting the cinema. The piece resonated so deeply that it prompted the CEO of a cinema chain to offer free tickets to readers in response. While that article examined the reasons hindering Nigerians from enjoying cinema, it left a critical question unanswered: Where do people turn to for entertainment when they cannot afford cinema tickets or streaming services? The simple answer is that they find alternatives.

YouTube emerges as the most accessible platform, particularly since it has become a favored space for filmmakers. However, even before we probe into the affordability of data for consistent streaming, we must acknowledge that numerous films are exclusively shown in cinemas or on paid streaming services, which naturally necessitates financial expenditure. Nonetheless, Nigerians have continuously found ways to watch these films. How?

Through piracy.

The reason I bring up piracy is due to a recent Twitter conversation that sparked this topic. A user shared a link containing PDF copies of books by various African authors. Journalist and writer Molara Wood tweeted back, branding it as “piracy on a grand scale.” This initiates a broader discussion that splits opinions between those defending piracy for enabling access and those condemning it as pure theft.

Many impoverished Nigerians, myself included, grew up reading pirated books simply because the originals were financially inaccessible. I remember times when books cost around two thousand naira, a sum still out of reach for many. During my university days, while lecturers advised us to obtain several textbooks, numerous classmates could only afford a select few. Those who could purchase went on to photocopy or scan their texts to share with others. I recall reading Mongo Beti’s Mission to Kala in the library using a scanned PDF because the physical book was not available. A warning on the document declared, "No part of this book may be duplicated or reproduced." I noticed but paid it little mind.

Following the discourse on X, some authors have expressed no qualms about readers pirating their work as long as it garners readership. “The primary goal of any writer is to be read,” they assert. “If you can’t purchase my book and piracy is your only option, then go ahead.” These authors likely understand scarcity firsthand, having frequently turned to pirated works themselves. They appear prepared to accept that a labor of love they spent years crafting may be freely disseminated, detached from the effort it took to create.

Yet, I do wonder: Do these authors view fraud, or Yahoo-Yahoo, which might be rationalized with similar reasoning, in the same light? Is poverty a valid excuse for committing fraud?

Piracy involves the unauthorized reproduction and distribution of someone else's intellectual property. Legally, it is theft, carrying significant penalties including hefty fines and possible jail time. However, in Nigeria, it has become entrenched within our culture. From films and books to other creative works, piracy now operates as an informal distribution network, almost a parallel industry. It’s not uncommon to see comments under posts by creatives asking, “Who has a PDF?” for the average Nigerian who has been raised in an environment where scarcity is prevalent.

For years, Nigerian filmmakers have lamented the devastating impact piracy has on their financial returns. Picture dedicating years to a project, investing every last bit of your resources, creative energy, and team effort, only to uncover that your film has been illegally copied and distributed for free shortly after its release. The harm extends beyond finances; it strikes at the very essence of their creative existence, devaluing their hard work and hindering future endeavors. In 2025, the Nigerian Copyright Commission reported massive annual losses exceeding billions of naira due to piracy.

The debate unfolding on X has unearthed a matter far deeper than simple moral disapproval; it has laid bare the staggering poverty levels in Nigeria and the urgent need for systems that support and protect both creators and audiences alike. Nigerians are eager to consume films, music, and literature, but when the legitimate paths to access them become cost-prohibitive, alternatives spring up.

Investing in libraries could be part of the solution. If Nigerian public and university libraries were well-funded and routinely updated, fewer people would feel the need to