In the heart of West Africa, a new battle is shaping up—not over arms, but over oil. The military-led government in Niger has declared its intentions loud and clear: it wants full control over its most valuable resource. At the centre of the storm is the billion-dollar Niger-Benin oil pipeline and the fragile energy alliance it once represented.
The story took a dramatic turn when the Nigerien junta announced that it would stop oil exports to Benin via the pipeline unless Benin lifts its restrictions on the movement of Nigerien goods at the border. It’s a bold move, one that could trigger economic tremors throughout the region. But for the leaders in Niamey, it’s a matter of national sovereignty—and leverage.
The 2,000-kilometre Niger-Benin pipeline, built with Chinese backing and operated by the China National Petroleum Corporation (CNPC), was supposed to be a game-changer for Niger. Once fully operational, it could transport up to 90,000 barrels of oil per day from the Agadem oilfields in southeastern Niger to the Atlantic port of Sèmè-Kpodji in Benin. For a country like Niger—landlocked, underdeveloped, and politically fragile—the pipeline offered a lifeline to economic growth and foreign exchange earnings.
But coups, politics, and power plays have a way of complicating even the best-laid plans.
Since the July 2023 coup that ousted democratically elected President Mohamed Bazoum, Niger’s junta has been under international pressure, with sanctions from the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), suspended aid, and diplomatic isolation. In response, the military government has increasingly sought to assert its independence and challenge what it sees as economic dependence and foreign exploitation.
Enter Benin, its coastal neighbour and key transit partner. Relations between the two countries have deteriorated since the coup, with Benin aligning itself with ECOWAS and keeping its border largely closed to Nigerien goods. For Niamey, this is a provocation—and one that demands a response.
By threatening to halt oil exports, Niger is weaponising its primary commodity. It’s a high-stakes game. Oil exports were scheduled to begin flowing regularly this month, and the revenues were expected to fund not only essential services but also military salaries and public sector wages. Delaying or suspending the exports might hurt Niger—but it will also affect Benin, which stands to earn transit fees and benefit from the pipeline’s economic spillover.
CNPC, the pipeline’s main operator, has remained notably silent. But it is stuck between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, it needs political stability and uninterrupted operations to secure returns on its investment. On the other hand, it cannot afford to be seen as choosing sides in what is rapidly becoming a geopolitical standoff in miniature.
In the background, France, the United States, and China are all watching carefully. The West has largely condemned Niger’s junta, withdrawing troops and aid, while China has remained pragmatic and engagement-focused. But Beijing’s patience has limits. If political instability threatens its billion-dollar infrastructure projects, it may find itself recalibrating its risk appetite in West Africa.
For Niger’s junta, the pipeline dispute is not just about economics—it’s also about symbolism. It’s an assertion of power in the face of perceived regional bullying and international marginalisation. The junta’s messaging is clear: Niger will not be coerced, and it will control its own destiny—even if that means sacrificing short-term economic gain.
Benin, for its part, is caught between regional commitments and economic self-interest. President Patrice Talon’s government wants to maintain ECOWAS’s sanctions regime, but it also knows that prolonged tension with Niger could destabilise its northern border and damage its own economic interests. The stakes are high on both sides of the border.
Meanwhile, the people of Niger—already facing inflation, blackouts, and deteriorating services—are watching anxiously. For them, the promise of oil wealth is not abstract. It could mean jobs, electricity, medicine, and food. Delaying oil exports may sound like a patriotic stand, but it also delays desperately needed income at a time when the country is under immense economic strain.
Experts fear that the longer the standoff continues, the harder it will be to repair the relationship. Infrastructure like pipelines require not only engineering and capital—but trust. Once that trust erodes, even the best-built pipeline can become a pipe dream.
Ultimately, this is not just a dispute between neighbours. It is a microcosm of the larger challenges facing West Africa today: how to navigate sovereignty and interdependence, how to balance political legitimacy and economic pragmatism, and how to chart a path forward in a region buffeted by coups, sanctions, and shifting alliances.
Whether Niger will turn the taps back on remains to be seen. But what is certain is that in the sands of the Sahel, oil is once again proving to be as much a curse as a blessing.
