By Olatunbosun Obafemi
The Petroleum and Natural Gas Senior Staff Association of Nigeria (PENGASSAN) has once again reached for its favourite weapon – strike action. This time, the union is directing its members nationwide to withdraw services in protest against the alleged mass dismissal of Nigerian workers at Dangote Refinery. According to the union, the refinery sacked workers for joining its ranks and replaced them with “over 2,000 Indians.” It has declared that all operations – control rooms, gas supply, panel operations – must be shut down until the dismissed staff are reinstated.
On the surface, this may look like a bold stand for workers’ rights. In reality, it is little more than hypocrisy dressed up as activism. For decades, PENGASSAN has positioned itself as a defender of Nigerian oil and gas workers. Yet its record shows that its strikes rarely go beyond self-preservation and power games. Where was this righteous indignation when government-owned refineries collapsed under corruption, leaving thousands of workers redundant? Where was this militant energy when politicians looted billions through so-called turnaround maintenance contracts that yielded nothing?
PENGASSAN’s latest crusade against Dangote Refinery smacks of opportunism. It is no secret that the refinery, as Africa’s largest single-train facility, poses a threat to the established order in Nigeria’s oil and gas sector. For years, fuel importation and subsidy regimes created lucrative rent-seeking opportunities for a network of players – including some who enjoyed cosy relationships with union leaders. By threatening to cripple Dangote’s operations, the union looks less like a champion of workers and more like an instrument for vested interests unsettled by the refinery’s potential to upend the status quo.
Even the grounds for this strike raise questions. If indeed Nigerian workers were dismissed unlawfully, there are clear legal and institutional channels to seek redress – the courts, the Ministry of Labour, or even arbitration. By bypassing these mechanisms and calling for a nationwide shutdown, PENGASSAN reveals its true hand: this is less about justice and more about flexing muscle. Nigerians have not forgotten how often these so-called “solidarity strikes” end in backroom settlements that leave the ordinary worker no better off.
The claim that Dangote Refinery has imported “over 2,000 Indians” to replace Nigerians is sensational but unverified. What is clear, however, is that the refinery, being a $20 billion project, requires a mix of foreign and local expertise. In the short term, some specialised technical roles will inevitably go to expatriates until knowledge transfer takes root. That is the reality of global industry. It is disingenuous for PENGASSAN to pretend otherwise, especially since many of its members in joint ventures with international oil companies work daily alongside expatriates without raising alarm.
The irony here is striking: PENGASSAN, which failed to protect Nigeria’s own refineries from decades of ruin, now wants to paralyse the one major project that could finally rescue the country from the shame of importing petrol 65 years after independence. This is hypocrisy of the highest order. Instead of collaborating with Dangote Refinery to expand local opportunities, build capacity, and ensure fair labour practices, the union is choosing confrontation. The message to investors is chilling: even when private capital steps in where government failed, it will be met with hostility rather than partnership.
Nigeria’s labour unions have a storied history of resistance, but they are also notorious for inconsistency. They shout loudest when their direct interests are threatened, and fall silent when the broader Nigerian worker suffers. Today’s PENGASSAN action is not a principled fight for labour rights; it is an attempt to wield disruption as leverage. Unfortunately, the ultimate losers will be ordinary Nigerians, who are already bearing the brunt of inflation, joblessness, and fuel price volatility.
The government must resist the temptation to pander to this drama. If workers’ rights have been violated, let the matter be resolved through lawful channels. But Nigeria cannot afford to have its critical energy infrastructure held hostage by a union more interested in theatrics than in constructive engagement. At 65 years of independence, the country should be focused on stabilising its economy, not descending into another cycle of strikes that cripple industries and erode investor confidence.
PENGASSAN’s hypocrisy lies not only in its selective outrage but also in its refusal to take responsibility for its own complicity in Nigeria’s oil sector failures. The union was silent when billions were wasted on unproductive subsidies. It offered little resistance when politicians abandoned local refineries to rot. Now, it wants Nigerians to believe it is the last line of defence for the oppressed worker. Nothing could be further from the truth.
The truth is simple: if PENGASSAN truly cared about Nigerian workers, it would be championing policies that expand job opportunities, encourage investment, and secure long-term sustainability. It would work with Dangote Refinery to ensure fair recruitment and gradual localisation of specialised roles. Instead, it is pursuing a scorched-earth strategy that undermines the very progress it claims to defend.
Nigeria’s oil and gas sector has been crippled for decades by the twin evils of corruption and rent-seeking. The Dangote Refinery, despite its imperfections, represents a chance to rewrite that story. PENGASSAN should decide whether it wants to be part of the solution or remain a relic of the problem.
