Nigeria's Textile Industry: A Chronicle of Loss and Decline

A drive through Kaduna's Kakuri industrial district reveals the stark reality of economic downfall. Amidst overgrown vegetation and dilapidated structures lie the remnants of factories that once operated non-stop. These ruins, which were once the vibrant core of Northern Nigeria's economy, now serve as a grim reminder of what has been lost.

Kaduna was once celebrated as the textile hub of West Africa. The establishment of Kaduna Textiles Limited in 1957, inspired by a visit to Egypt, marked a turning point. By the 1980s, Nigeria boasted 167 textile mills, directly employing over half a million people. The sector accounted for nearly a quarter of all manufacturing employment, making it the second-largest employer after the federal government.

Kaduna's identity was intrinsically linked to textiles. Numerous factories along the Kakuri-Makera industrial corridor, including United Nigeria Textiles, Kaduna Textiles, Arewa Textiles, and Supertex, attracted a diverse workforce from across the nation. A single entity like UNTL alone provided employment for over 10,000 individuals. This industrial boom fostered prosperity for landlords, sustained food vendors, and fueled the growth of schools, creating a comprehensive economic ecosystem rather than just a single sector.

The economic impact extended far beyond Kaduna. Workers regularly sent remittances to their families in villages throughout the Middle Belt and northern states, supporting education, housing, and extended family members. For many, the textile factories represented a crucial pathway from poverty to a middle-class existence for successive generations.

The textile industry was not confined to the North; it was a national enterprise. Chief Obafemi Awolowo spearheaded textile ventures in the West, such as Western Nigeria Textile Mills in Ikeja, utilizing cotton from Yoruba farmers in Abeokuta known for its superior quality. Similarly, Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe promoted industrial development in the East, establishing textile mills in Aba and other cities, processing northern cotton and supporting local cultivation. By the 1970s, Nigeria had achieved a significant milestone for an African nation: a fully integrated national textile industry.

However, this flourishing sector eventually faced an unprecedented collapse.

The decline began with the implementation of the Structural Adjustment Program in 1986. This liberalization of trade opened Nigeria's borders to unchecked smuggling, and by the late 1990s, smuggled textiles had captured 70 per cent of the domestic market. Compounding this issue, foreign manufacturers began replicating Nigerian brands, producing identical fabrics in China and selling them at prices up to 80 per cent lower than local mills could manage. The Director General of the Nigerian Textile Manufacturers Association starkly noted, "No Nigerian textile mill can produce at that price."

Government policy remained erratic, oscillating between import bans and their subsequent removal, which further destabilized the industry. The national power grid's unreliability forced factories to rely on expensive diesel generators, doubling production costs. Meanwhile, Nigerian mills operated with outdated machinery from the 1960s, while the global industry embraced modernization. High-interest rates, averaging 32 per cent, made accessing capital for recapitalization virtually impossible.

The final and most devastating blow came with the dramatic collapse of domestic cotton production. In the 1980s, Nigeria produced upwards of 300,000 metric tonnes of cotton annually. Today, this figure has fallen to a mere 15,000 metric tonnes, a staggering 95 per cent reduction. The number of cotton farmers has dwindled from 620,000 to fewer than 100,000 across key cotton- growing states. Similarly, the number of ginneries has plummeted from over 210 to less than 15. In Kano State alone, over 22,500 cotton farmers have abandoned the crop.

What makes this decline even more concerning is the sharp drop in agricultural yields. Nigerian farmers now harvest an average of only 500 to 600 kilograms per hectare, a significant decrease from the 1.5 to 2.0 tonnes achieved in previous decades. Even the introduction of BT cotton varieties, initially met with optimism, has underperformed due to issues with seed quality, inadequate extension services, and the worsening security situation.

This brings us to the critical issue: insecurity has now become an existential threat to any potential economic revival in the Northern region. The cotton- producing belt, spanning states like Zamfara, Katsina, Kaduna, and Sokoto, has been ravaged by banditry. Farmers are unable to access their farmlands. Ibrahim Mu’azu Isah of Funtua Textiles lamented, "I travelled from Funtua to Zamfara, but I couldn’t find a single cotton farm. It has now all turned to soybeans. If you know that you are going to be killed or kidnapped, you won’t even think of going to farm."

Samuel Oloruntoba of Kaduna's Cotton Ginning Company echoed these concerns, stating, "Cotton production is no longer there. Insecurity in Katsina and Zamfara is so severe that bandits recently attacked the community around my factory." A staff member at UNTL highlighted the direct impact on operations: "We cannot even get raw materials because the farmers are complaining that bandits won’t allow them to go to their farms."

Currently, fewer than two dozen textile mills remain operational throughout Nigeria. The nation now imports approximately $4 billion worth of textiles annually, meeting 99 per cent of its consumption needs. Sadly, over 3,000 former textile workers have passed away since the industry's closure, many succumbing to ailments they could not afford to treat. The Coalition of Closed and Unpaid Textile Workers reports that more than 10,000 workers are still awaiting their gratuities and benefits. Many motorcycle taxi operators in Kaduna and Kano are former employees of these defunct textile companies. "Seventy per cent of the Okada riders that you see around are former textiles workers," a labor leader informed me.

His Royal Highness, Muhammad Sanusi II, the 16th Emir of Kano and Chairman of UNTL, has pointed out that the textile industry's collapse has exacerbated the rise of insecurity in the region. The relationship is a destructive cycle: insecurity prevents cotton farming, which deprives mills of essential raw materials, leading to job losses, increased poverty, and ultimately, conditions ripe for further violence.

While the federal government has initiated efforts to revitalize the sector, including establishing the Cotton Textile and Garment Development Board and promoting BT cotton varieties, a significant investment of $2 billion in a garment factory in Ogun State, projected to create 150,000 jobs, raises pertinent questions. Ogun is not a primary cotton-producing state. This factory will rely on imported cotton or sourcing from the North. Therefore, the question arises: why is it not located closer to the source of raw materials, near where the industry historically thrived? The northern states that once fueled Nigeria's textile power are being overlooked, not due to a lack of land, farmers, or expertise, but because the federal government has failed to ensure the security necessary for economic activities to flourish.

The revival of Nigeria's textile industry is achievable. The systemic issues that led to its downfall can be addressed. This requires a comprehensive strategy: securing the cotton-growing regions, enforcing robust border controls against smuggling, implementing consistent and stable long-term policies, and investing in crucial infrastructure. Most importantly, it necessitates a recognition that insecurity is not merely a security issue but an economic emergency that is undermining the very foundation for any future industrial resurgence. Without cotton, a textile industry cannot exist. Without security, there can be no cotton cultivation.

The silent, abandoned factories in Kaduna, Ikeja, and Aba stand as stark testaments to a lost era. They also present a significant challenge to the current generation of policymakers. The critical question is whether Nigeria will accept these industrial relics as permanent fixtures of its landscape, or whether it will muster the determination to restore them to their former vitality.