In the sleepy farming village of Ehor, Uhunmwonde Local Government Area of Edo State, 47-year-old Mrs. Ebun Aikpokpo sits on a wooden bench beside her grocery stall, holding up a small blue POS device. making digital payments. The machine’s screen flickers weakly before going dark again.
By Usman Aliyu
For the third time that week, she has been unable to complete a customer’s payment due to a failed internet connection.
“I tell my customers to come back later or bring cash. But these days, most of them don’t carry cash anymore. Some just go elsewhere,” she said with a weary smile.
Similarly, Mr. Francis Ikharo, a 58-year-old cassava farmer in Ayanran village, Akoko-Edo LGA of Edo, clutches his phone in frustration.
His son informed him that ₦25,000 had been sent to his account under the NG-CARES Project — a federal initiative aimed at restoring the livelihoods of the poor, ensuring food security, and supporting MSMEs.
Weeks later, he still hasn’t accessed a single naira.
“I went to the bank in Igarra, and they told me the network was down. I went again two days later—same thing.
They said even if I had a smartphone and downloaded the mobile app, it wouldn’t work here. There’s no service,” he explained.
This challenge is not limited to Edo’s rural communities.
Patience Ogah, 38, who runs a small store in Karaworo, Adavi LGA of Kogi State, has faced similar network failures.
In 2023, she began accepting digital payments using a POS device, but poor internet connectivity and frequent power cuts have rendered the device almost useless.
“Customers get angry when the machine fails. Some think I’m trying to cheat them. Others just walk away,” she bemoaned.
In Ago Alaye, Odigbo LGA, Ondo State, POS agent Idowu Ajayi has battled connectivity issues for two years while serving six surrounding villages.
“I’ve bought two routers. I even climbed a tree to hang my SIM card for better signal. But when the network fails, there’s nothing I can do.
People just curse and leave,” he lamented.
The issue extends to local institutions. Schools and primary health centres struggle to process digital payments for fees or bills, and rural teachers and healthcare workers often can’t receive salaries due to poor mobile banking infrastructure.
These stories reveal a critical gap in Nigeria’s digital transformation agenda: the urban-rural divide.
While urban areas like Lagos, Abuja, Benin City, Lokoja, and Akure are experiencing a growing use of USSD, QR code payments, fintech apps, and card transactions, many rural communities remain digitally excluded.
The Central Bank of Nigeria’s cashless policy and the National Digital Economy Policy and Strategy (2020–2030) aim to expand digital inclusion and reduce poverty.
But poor infrastructure—low broadband coverage, erratic power, and limited digital literacy—keeps rural communities from accessing these benefits.
Despite the digital economy contributing 16–18% to Nigeria’s GDP in 2024, over half of Nigerians—mostly in rural areas—still lack broadband access, according to the Nigerian Communications Commission (NCC).
As of January 2025, Nigeria had 98.8 million broadband subscriptions, representing a 45.61% penetration rate, which is still below the 70% target outlined in the National Broadband Plan (2020–2025).
Dr. Bosun Tijani, Minister of Communications, Innovation and Digital Economy, announced a plan in May 2025 to deploy 7,000 telecom towers across underserved communities.
This, under the Renewed Hope Agenda, targets 20 million rural dwellers without access to network infrastructure.
“These 7,000 towers will be delivered by end of 2025 to ensure that Nigerians everywhere can access telecom services,” the minister said.
Engr. Gbenga Adebayo, Chairman of the Association of Licensed Telecom Operators of Nigeria (ALTON), explained that hostile sub-national policies deter telecom investment in rural areas.
He cited examples like Right-of-Way (RoW) charges reaching ₦8,500 per linear metre, in contrast to the ₦145 per metre recommended by the Federal Economic Council.
“When state governments reject federal policy and impose their own fees, it becomes impossible for operators to invest sustainably,” Adebayo stated.
He added:
“Broadband access is about connecting people to opportunity. A 10% increase in broadband penetration boosts GDP by up to 2.5%.”
While digital payments in Nigeria hit a record ₦1.07 quadrillion in 2024 (per NIBSS), the GSMA Mobile Gender Gap Report indicates nearly 60% of rural Nigerian women don’t use mobile internet.
Similarly, 64 million Nigerian adults remain unbanked, mostly in rural areas (World Bank).
Baba Adefemi, a 55-year-old farmer in Araromi Obu, Ondo State, said he missed out on FADAMA NG-CARES funds because he didn’t own a smartphone or understand mobile transfers.
“I heard they paid others, but I don’t have the phone they use. I don’t even know the code they talk about,” he said.
According to Hussein Olanrewaju, founder of HAQ Technology Management Services, digital exclusion affects everything—from credit access to business visibility.
“Without consistent network and power, even voice-based transactions fail. There’s no digital record for most rural businesses, making them invisible to lenders,” he said.
He blamed government inaction, stating:
“We need policy tailored for our local realities, not templates from other countries. Also, financial literacy must go beyond slogans.”
Dr. Chinenye Okafor, a digital development analyst, stressed the need to treat Digital Public Infrastructure (DPI) like roads and electricity, as public goods.
“Right now, DPI deployment focuses on markets, not marginalised groups. That’s a structural flaw,” she said.
She advocates policy incentives for telecoms to expand into rural areas, voice-command fintech tools, and offline-accessible apps in indigenous languages.
“Digital inclusion must be treated as a utility, not a privilege,” she said.
Experts agree: closing Nigeria’s digital gap will take more than bandwidth—it demands political will, inclusive design, and community-centered investment.
Without intentional outreach to villages like Ehor, Ayanran, Karaworo, Ago Alaye, and Araromi Obu, the country risks entrenching exclusion even deeper.
Until that happens, Nigerians like Ebun Aikpokpo, Francis Ikharo, Patience Ogah, Idowu Ajayi, and Baba Adefemi will remain disconnected—not because they don’t want to join the digital economy, but because the system has not shown up at their doorstep.
NANFeatures
This report was produced with support from the Centre for Communication and Social Impact (CCSI)
