Oloibiri is a town located a few kilometers away from the city of Port Harcourt in Rivers State, Nigeria. It is known for sharing the same local government, of Ogbia, as the town of Otuoke where Nigeria’s former president Goodluck Jonathan was born. Perhaps more noteworthy is that the small Niger Delta town of Oloibiri is also widely cited as the birthplace of the country’s oil story. The significance of Oloibiri to the development of Nigeria’s modern economy cannot be overemphasized. Between 1907 and 1956, colonial Nigeria was engulfed in a frantic search for Black Gold. First, these efforts were led by the Nigerian Bitumen Corporation, a subsidiary of a German company. Soon, the industry was dominated by Shell D’Arcy — a precursor to what is now the Shell Petroleum Development Company of Nigeria. It wasn’t until 1956, however, that oil was discovered in commercial quantities in Oloibiri. In 1958, Nigeria made its first shipment of oil to international markets. What began with a production of 5,000 barrels of crude oil a day was transformed to a two million barrel-a-day oil industry within just two short decades. The growth of that industry is one on which the Nigerian economy remains precariously and detrimentally dependent. That oil and the people of the Niger Delta have contributed immensely to the development of modern Nigeria is not a contestable question. Yet, if the now used-up and discarded town of Oloibiri is any example — Oloibiri only lasted from 1958 to 1978 when its oil wells dried up and ended the town’s importance to Nigeria’s ruling elite — the Nigerian people are merely resources to be used up and eventually discarded. Today, Oloibiri has become a metaphor for what is wrong with Nigeria. As James Ferguson once noted, there is a “usable Africa” and an “unusable Africa.” Usable Africa constitutes those territories with immense natural resource deposits such as oil, limestone, diamond, gold, coltan, and the like. Unusable Africa constitutes the rest of the continent and its people. The very recent history of Oloibiri suggests that the Nigerian situation is not far removed from Ferguson’s examination. Once a "usable" part of Nigeria, Oloibiri has today become an unusable space. This has been the sad, but unsurprising, result of economic and environmental plunder by Nigeria’s ruling elite and its multinational collaborators, including Shell, Chevron, ExxonMobil and TotalFinaElf. During Oloibiri’s 20-year life span (1958-1978), the town’s oil wells produced approximately 20 million barrels of oil that generated millions of dollars for the Nigerian government. Today, Oloibiri is a desolate town with nothing to show for the fortune it generated for the Nigerian state. Water pollution, soil erosion, and abandoned oil infrastructure are all that remain from the town’s era of oil production. The poverty levels in Oloibiri today are comparable to the levels found throughout Nigeria as a whole, in which over 50% of the population was living on less than $2 per day in 2012. The people of Oloibiri, however, did not used to be poor. The farming and fishing industries once thrived, leading to a relatively prosperous community of people with a wide variety of occupations and diverse economic opportunities. The unpleasant irony, of course, is that the prosperity brought to Nigeria’s ruling elite by Oloibiri’s oil led to the degradation of the natural land and marine resources that had once allowed this town to flourish. While Oloibiri has since been abandoned by the Nigerian government and its allies among the various international oil companies, ordinary people have had to bear the brunt of environmental degradation, high poverty levels, impassable roads, and lack of access to education and quality health services. Life expectancy in the Niger Delta averages just 40 years, compared to 53-55 within Nigeria as a whole. In response to the persistent neglect and pillaging of resources throughout the Niger Delta, several militant youth movements have arisen to claim control of the region’s resources, often through violent means. Since 2005, multiple organizations, including the Movement for the Emancipation of Niger Delta (MEND) and the newer Niger Delta Avengers (NDA), have enacted an insurgency against the state and multinational corporations operating in the region. These groups make various claims about fighting for the rights of the people of the Niger Delta. While the Nigerian state and the multinational corporations operating in the Niger Delta have largely dismissed these youths as criminals, they have ignored the fundamental issues underlying the insurgency. They have refused to address the historical process that led from a "usable" Niger Delta of the 1950s, to a current population of unemployed, "unusable" youths castigated to the margins of Nigerian society. The absence of critical infrastructure such as schools, healthcare facilities, roads, electricity, clean air and water, and the availability of economic opportunities for these youths and their families are rarely at the forefront of official state and oil corporation discussions concerning the Niger Delta. Even when the federal government does dare to focus on such urgent issues of infrastructure development across the Niger Delta, more attention is given to large corporate and government projects than to the actual grievances of local communities. For example, much attention is given to the Niger Delta Development Corporation (NDDC), a partnership of Shell, Chevron, and other corporations with the Nigerian state, that seeks to “facilitate the rapid, even, and sustainable development of the Niger Delta.” Unfortunately, such agencies have become a conduit for cronies of the ruling elite to continue the cycles of corruption and exploitation within the region. Top personnel within NDCC, for instance, were recently accused of misusing public funds in what the Nigerian newspaper Vanguard News called a “cesspool of corruption.” Today, when the "unusable" youths see their "usable" environment benefitting others without providing any assistance to their own communities, they resort to violent advocacy. The bleak landscape of Oloibiri epitomizes their worst fears for the Niger Delta. On one hand, the Niger Delta is rendered usable through the extraction of millions of barrels of black gold that account for 80 percent of Nigeria’s government revenue and 40 percent of gross domestic product. On the other hand, the landscape of the Niger Delta is devastated, and the inhabitants must wake up every day in abject poverty to see the oil industry operating all around them, never helping their communities. The boom and bust of Oloibiri reveals the extent to which the Nigerian government views most Nigerians as nothing more than one out of many useable resources to be exploited and discarded. The Niger Delta embodies the contrived neglect of the majority of Nigerians by a state that continues to fail in its responsibilities towards its citizens. This is a failure of responsibility that is apparent towards the people and communities of the Niger Delta in particular, and towards all Nigerians in general. It is a failure of responsibility that has reduced the bulk of the Nigerian citizenry to a disposable commodity of usable and unusable objects. * This is an edited version of an essay that first appeared in Political Matter and is reprinted here with kind permission from the editors.

Two weeks ago, on October 6th, Nigeria’s former oil minister, Diezani Allison-Madueke, was arrested in London by British police. It’s estimated that over $20 billion went missing on her watch. But how much longer will Nigeria rely on the British police to deal with powerful mega-looters like Diezani Allison-Madueke? Beyond the celebrations that lit up Nigerian Twitter at the news of Allison-Madueke’s arrest lie two important and interrelated questions: How is it that it is always the U.K. that comes to the rescue of Nigeria? How and why does Nigeria lack the capacity to manage its affairs? Once again, the U.K. has come to act as the ‘savior’ of Nigeria in an attempt to recover stolen commonwealth of the periphery—oil money. Surprisingly, the U.K. is the major beneficiary of these stolen funds often stashed in their ‘safe’ banking vaults and real estate markets. Two cases exemplify these troubling dynamics. The first case is that of self-described governor general of the Ijaw nation, D.S.P. Alamasiegha, former governor of oil rich Bayelsa state (same state as Madueke), arrested and charged to court in London for money laundering during the Obasanjo administration. Alamasiegha’s escape to Nigeria after his court appearance in London remains as mysterious as the disappearance of several billions of dollars from the oil industry in Nigeria. Several accounts indicated that he escaped dressed as a woman but the issue is that his escape was celebrated by some in Nigeria and today Alamasiegha has not only been pardoned (by his protégé, Goodluck Jonathan) but until his recent death, remained a political operative in his native Bayelsa (still benefitting from oil loot). What makes Alamsiegha’s case interesting was the fact that in 2005 the British authorities found on him at the time of his arrest a total of $3.2 million cash and bank accounts and real estate investment worth over $18million. While at the time of his death, the case is still pending in a London court (Alamasiegha jumped bail), the frozen assets (cash, bank accounts and properties) are still in the custody of the metropole. In the second case, James Ibori, former governor of oil rich Delta state. Ibori was not as lucky as Alamasiegha. He was arrested in Dubai, extradited to the metropole, tried and convicted and is now serving 13 years jail time in London for laundering more than $100million. All his properties, cash and bank accounts in the UK were confiscated. Reports have it that some of the stolen funds were returned to Nigeria but (re)looted back to the metropole by the custodians of power in Nigeria. Like Alamasiegha, even in prison, Ibori remained influential in the politics of Delta state and Nigeria. His cousin, Emmanuel Uduaghan, succeeded him as governor and several of his protégés became commissioners and special advisers in the administration of his cousin as well as the administration of Goodluck Jonathan. There were many reports suggesting that he was still calling the shots from his prison room in London. The bottom-line is that the UK has always been available to help Nigeria ‘recover’ stolen funds laundered in the metropole but the recovery process has not been transparent. For instance, when stolen funds are stashed in British banks or invested in real estate, such funds add value to the economy of the metropole. Even when such funds are recovered by London on behalf of Abuja, only an insignificant part of the funds make their way back and they are never returned with interest. A clear example is the millions of dollars stashed in Swiss accounts by the late dictator General Sani Abacha who ruled Nigeria between 1993 and 1998 (which Switzerland, last March, promised to return to Nigeria). Leaders hailed as tough on corruption (Lamido Sanusi, Head of the Central Bank 2009-2014; and Nuhu Ribadu, chair of the EFCC) who actually attempt to bring crimes to light and to justice, are accused of ‘playing politics’ and dismissed from their positions. So, as we await the trial of Diezani Allison-Madueke, if precedent is anything to go by, she may actually have cause to celebrate.