As the winter holidays approach, a familiar refrain emerges from authorities across Nigeria: pyrotechnics, fireworks, and “bangers” are banned, and anyone caught selling or using them will be arrested. Yet, on the ground — in open markets, roadside stalls, and “disco-light” displays — fireworks continue to be sold and detonated with near impunity. Meanwhile, tools associated with illegal drug use, such as rolling papers (often branded “Rizla”), appear in mainstream retail outlets with official labelling, raising questions about enforcement priorities and policy consistency.
In this post, I explore the growing contradiction between official policy and everyday reality — and argue that perhaps what we really need is not lip service from the police, but honest debate around legalization, regulation, and public safety.
🔔 The Annual Fireworks Ban: Loud Words, Quiet Enforcement
Across multiple states in Nigeria, police commands have recently reaffirmed bans on fireworks and pyrotechnics ahead of the festive season. In Delta State, the state police commissioner, Olufemi Abaniwonda, reiterated that the long-standing prohibition on fireworks — including “knock-outs” and “bangers” — remains in force. Retailers have been warned to pull such products from their shelves or risk arrest.
Similar bans have been announced by police commands in Ondo State, Ondo State Police Command, citing increased incidents of false alarms, staged kidnappings, and other crimes which they argue can be masked by fireworks noise. In Enugu State, the command warned residents against unauthorized use or sale of fireworks, stressing that violators will face the full weight of the law. Reports also show that in Delta, the police recently seized millions of naira worth of “knock-outs,” as part of the crackdown.
On paper, these crackdowns are serious — shop owners are threatened, goods are described as contraband, and the joint goal is to prevent misuse. Yet on the streets and in markets across Lagos, Asaba, Warri and other major Nigerian cities, fireworks continue to be displayed in shop windows and sold brazenly, while “bangers” and other pyrotechnics are detonated during festive nights.
Why does this enforcement posture appear toothless? The answer seems to lie not in a lack of laws — fireworks and pyrotechnics are regulated — but in uneven enforcement, competing priorities, and perhaps economic incentives that benefit from turning a blind eye.
🎇 Why Fireworks Persist: Culture, Commerce, and Apathy
For many Nigerians, the sound of fireworks is inextricably linked to celebration. As several past reports note — especially in major cities like Lagos, Benin, and Asaba — fireworks have become a hallmark of Yuletide festivities.
There is also a pronounced economic motive: for traders, the holiday season represents a lucrative opportunity. A vendor once explained that selling fireworks helps her pay debts or school fees — especially in a country where stable employment is a luxury. Others argue that if the customs, police, and enforcement agencies allow imports to pass, then they see no reason to stop selling — after all, “if they bring it in, we will buy and sell.”
But this widespread sale and use of fireworks — despite formal bans — exposes a deeper problem: the state’s enforcement machinery is reactive, not proactive; symbolic, not structural. Warnings are issued annually. Crackdowns happen occasionally. But true regulation — systematic inspection of ports, removal of pyrotechnics from markets, consistent prosecution — remains elusive.
The result: a kind of legalized hypocrisy, where the law says one thing, and the lived reality says another.
🚬 Meanwhile, the “Drug Problem” — Plain Packaging, Hidden Contradictions
The contradiction is perhaps even starker when it comes to drugs. The psychoactive drug most commonly used in Nigeria is cannabis (commonly referred to as marijuana, weed, or “igbo”). Under relevant legislation — including the National Drug Law Enforcement Agency (NDLEA) Act and the Indian Hemp Act — the possession, sale, cultivation, and use of cannabis are strictly prohibited. Conviction can result in 15–25 years imprisonment — or even death sentences in extreme cases of cultivation or trafficking.
Despite this, illicit cannabis remains widely used, and Nigeria retains its status as a major supplier of West African-grown cannabis. According to the country’s NDLEA, dangerous substances continue to be circulated, including “designer pouches and cups” marketing supposed “medicinal” cannabis.
What’s more perplexing: tools often associated with drug use — like rolling papers (e.g., “Rizla”) — remain openly sold in many shops, sometimes even with official labelling or NAFDAC registration numbers. This raises legitimate questions: if the state strictly prohibits cannabis, why is a facilitating item like rolling papers being allowed to circulate freely?
As one online user (on Reddit) put it when asked about legalization for weed:
> “No. No. No. Weed is illegal everywhere in Nigeria, the government turns a blind eye to it, if there’s no breakdown of law and order.”
In other words: the law exists, but enforcement depends on context — location, resources, social pressure, and sometimes corruption.
⚠️ The Double Standard: What It Means for Policy and Public Safety
From fireworks to drugs, what we are witnessing in Nigeria is a double standard — a selective enforcement that undermines the legitimacy of the law itself. At the core lies a deeper problem: inconsistent governance and enforcement, leading to public distrust and cynical compliance.
When fireworks are banned — but still sold and detonated — it signals to citizens that the law is more aspirational than real.
When drug laws are strict — but tools for consumption are allowed — it suggests that illicit activities can carve out tolerated spaces under the guise of “availability.”
When seizure operations happen sporadically and only around holidays (for fireworks) or after major drug busts, rather than as sustained policy, the root causes — poverty, demand, supply chains — are left unaddressed.
Over time, this breeds cynicism: many of us have grown up hearing the same “no fireworks this Yuletide” announcement for over a decade — yet every year, markets overflow with “bangers.”
There is also a broader social cost: reckless use of fireworks has led to explosions, injuries, loss of property — fires that destroyed homes and put lives at risk. Meanwhile, widespread cannabis use — and the clandestine nature of its supply chain — contributes to mental health problems, criminal networks, and social instability.
🔓 Could Legalization and Regulation Offer a Better Way?
Given the realities on the ground, perhaps it is time to rethink the hard-line approach. The current system — blanket bans with sporadic enforcement — appears increasingly unsustainable.
Here’s what a more honest, regulated framework could look like:
For fireworks: Rather than outright bans, authorities could license and regulate legitimate pyrotechnic displays. Official permits, controlled points of sale, and designated “fireworks nights” (e.g., New Year’s Eve, Christmas Eve) — handled by trained professionals — could reduce the risks while preserving celebratory culture. This is how many countries manage fireworks: through organized, regulated public displays rather than widespread private sales.
For cannabis (or “igbo”): If public demand continues — and informal markets remain robust — decriminalization or legalization (with strict regulation) could bring the trade under official oversight. This would allow for quality control, harm reduction measures, taxation, and reduced criminality. It would also address the glaring inconsistency between prohibition and widespread usage.
For rolling papers and related paraphernalia: If there is to be a meaningful policy on cannabis, all associated items (papers, pipes, etc.) should either be regulated together or banned together. Selectively allowing paraphernalia but criminalizing the substance fosters hypocrisy and undermines enforcement credibility.
Crucially, any move toward legalization or regulation must be accompanied by robust public health campaigns, harm-reduction strategies, and social support systems — to mitigate addiction, misuse, and associated social costs.
🔎 Final Thoughts: Who’s Really Protecting Whom?
Every year, as Christmas and New Year approach, police commands across Nigeria publish glossy statements about how “bangers are banned — violators will be arrested.” But as billions of naira worth of fireworks continue to flood markets, and as cannabis — a dangerous yet widely used drug — remains ubiquitous despite prohibition, one has to ask: who is the “banned” really protecting?
Is it the citizens — protecting them from noise, explosions, and illicit drug use? Or is it the system — protecting the interests of those with power, turning a blind eye to profitable, informal economies?
For too long, hypocrisy has masqueraded as policy. It’s time for honest regulation, transparent enforcement, and public dialogue. Because continuing with the status quo only deepens cynicism, undermines respect for the law, and leaves ordinary Nigerians to fend for themselves in a system built on empty threats.
0 Comments