When electricity became something we could store

If anyone had told me that in 2050, I would be regaling my 10 year old grand daughter, Enitan, with stories of a time electricity was a luxury, I would never have believed it.

Here I am, sitting under the mango tree in my garden, retelling the story of the olden days - 2026. I tell her that the defining background noise of Lagos was the sound of diesel generators. They were everywhere. Outside homes, shops, offices, restaurants, market stalls, and businesses, their engines roaring whenever the grid failed. The noise was inescapable. It was the soundtrack of our lives. And with the noise came fumes and smog that settled in our lungs and over the city.

Then I remember the unbearable summer of 2026. The heat seemed relentless, while diesel prices soared. Flour, onions and tomatoes became painfully expensive as the closure of the Strait of Hormuz disrupted global energy and food supply chains. It was a moment when many Africans began to understand just how vulnerable our economies were to events taking place thousands of kilometres away. I believe that was the period when African countries began to realise that the solutions to our energy and climate challenges, and the financing to build them, would have to come from within the continent.

Necessity is indeed the mother of invention. The breakthrough 30-day affordable long-duration battery storage technology was developed at the University of Ibadan. An African response to an African challenge became a technology that helped reshape global energy security. Today, households are no longer connected to the national electricity grid. The national grid still exists, but it now primarily serves commercial and industrial customers.

Every home on our street generates its electricity from solar panels, and powerful battery packs store the energy for use throughout the day and night. Every household keeps two battery packs. One could be charging while the other supplied the household. When a battery reached the end of its six-month operating cycle, it was removed and replaced. The used battery entered a vast recycling and refurbishment system. The six-month replacement cycle initially worried people. What if millions of households needed new batteries at the same time? What if there was a shortage? What if a supply chain failed? So households had two packs. The replacement of one did not interrupt electricity because the other continued operating.

Sometimes when I watch Enitan get ready for school I have to remind myself how different Lagos used to be. She is 10 years old and has never waited for the lights to return so she can catch the end of the FIFA World Cup final, desperately hoping that no one had scored while the power was out. When I was her age, power cuts were part of everyday life. We kept candles, kerosene lanterns, rechargeable lamps, bought diesel for generators and planned our lives around whether electricity was available. Food could spoil, businesses could lose hours of production, children studied by dim lamps and occasionally we heard of house fires caused by open flames or kerosene lamps.

Enitan finds it hard to believe that students once struggled to study after dark. Now children can learn whenever they want. Schools have reliable electricity with computers for every student, and cooling during the hottest months. Exam results improved year after year because learning no longer stopped when the power failed. Healthcare changed too. Clinics have uninterrupted power to store medicines, vaccines, conduct diagnostics and emergency care. Asthma and lung diseases became less common after millions of small generators disappeared from the city. The air feels cleaner now.

What amazes me is how this changed the economy. Cheap, reliable electricity allowed thousands of small businesses to grow. Tailors, food sellers, manufacturers, software developers and entrepreneurs no longer had to spend their profits on diesel. New industries emerged around solar technology, battery refurbishment, recycling and energy services. Money that once left the country to buy petrol and diesel was invested in local businesses, jobs and innovation. With that came a vibrant capital market. The steady brain drain to developed economies stopped - there was no economic reason to leave Nigeria.

There is a saying, talent is everywhere: opportunity makes the difference. A simple combination of sunshine and batteries has given millions of people more time to learn, better health, cleaner air and greater opportunity.