The moment of truth arrived not in a conference room in Niamey, but on the world’s most visible stage. At the 81st United Nations General Assembly, Prime Minister Ali Mahaman Lamine Zeine delivered yet another soaring sovereignty speech, repeating the CNSP’s familiar watchwords: reclaiming national resources, economic independence, breaking with neocolonialism. The applause has faded. The numbers have not.
Behind the patriotic curtain, two state-owned giants — the SOMAÏR and the SONIDEP — are sinking under chaotic management, and the financial wreckage is now hitting Nigerien households directly. This is the turning point: the gap between the speech and the spreadsheet has become too wide to paper over.
The SOMAÏR’s free fall: from uranium pride to production paralysis
For years, the uranium buried near Arlit fueled a narrative of grievance and promise. When General Abdourahamane Tiani’s government took operational control of the Société des mines de l’Aïr and pushed out its long-standing French partner Orano, the pitch was simple: the wealth would finally stay home.
What followed on the ground tells a different story. Uranium output has collapsed by roughly 80 percent since the new authorities took over.
- Broken supply chains: The inability to bring in essential chemical reagents, including sulfuric acid, along with border logjams, has brought activity at the Arlit site to a standstill.
- A commercial dead end: Without solid distribution networks or reliable export certificates, tonnes of yellowcake sit in storage — unsold and unusable.
- Immediate social fallout: Local subcontractors go unpaid, jobs evaporate, and the tax revenue meant to fund hospitals and schools has turned into a mirage.
Hoisting a new flag over a factory gate does not make its machines run. In mining engineering, slogans are no substitute for technical skill and disciplined management.
The SONIDEP and the 25 billion FCFA question nobody wants to answer
If uranium is a slow-motion disaster, the oil file edges toward a full-blown state scandal. The Société nigérienne des produits pétroliers was placed by the CNSP at the heart of crude marketing strategy, notably through the giant new pipeline running to Benin’s coast. It was supposed to be the financial engine of a new era.
Instead, internal balance sheets and progress reports point to a loss estimated at more than 25 billion CFA francs.
That figure captures the failure of the military management model in a single line. On one side, the SOMAÏR’s production has dropped by nearly 80 percent, destroying the added value of the uranium chain. On the other, the SONIDEP, meant to harvest the fruits of national oil, is piling up a record deficit of 25 billion FCFA instead of filling state coffers. Together, these two public flagships embody a system that evaporates public resources under the cover of illusory nationalism.
How does a national company holding a monopoly on fuel distribution — in a country poised to become a major oil exporter — manage to dig such a financial chasm? The absence of certified accounts and the oil ministry’s wall of silence feed every suspicion: poor management, dubious private deals, improvised middlemen and inflated invoices.
Sovereignty is not a shield for incompetence
Faced with this industrial rout, the Tiani-Zeine reflex is well rehearsed: blame ECOWAS, international sanctions, the “invisible hand of imperialism,” or previous regimes.
At some point, the leaders under Abdourahamane Tiani must answer to their own people:
- Where are the audit reports promised with such fanfare after the July 2023 coup?
- How are Niger’s oil and uranium sales contracts actually negotiated?
- What exactly is the Treasury doing with the rare revenues it collects if the major state companies are going bankrupt?
Real sovereignty is measured in acts and concrete results: public companies that create value, salaries paid on time, investment in basic services and full transparency on public finances.
By using patriotism to mask the SOMAÏR and SONIDEP failures, the CNSP empties the word sovereignty of its meaning. The Nigerien people cannot eat a UN speech. They need an economy that works.
