By Emmanuel Okoroafor

Each year, Nigeria sends some of the largest delegations, sponsors, and speakers to major African conferences. Yet, when the lights go on and the cameras roll, the venue is never Lagos or Abuja, it is usually Cape Town, Kigali, or Nairobi. The contradiction is glaring. Nigeria finances the talk but rarely owns the stage.

I saw this paradox first-hand in September when I attended Africa Energy Week (AEW) in Cape Town. The event gathered thousands of policymakers, investors, and professionals to discuss the continent’s energy future. Nigeria was everywhere in that room – on panels, at exhibition booths, and in sponsorship banners – but nowhere in the hosting rights. Once again, Africa’s biggest energy market had travelled abroad to debate its own industry.

This pattern runs deeper than one event. Across sectors – energy, mining, health, infrastructure, and innovation – Nigeria contributes heavily to Africa’s intellectual and commercial exchanges, yet does not host them. That consistent absence carries consequences that go beyond symbolism. It costs money, credibility, and influence.

Cost of absence

Every time a major conference bypasses Nigeria, the country loses more than hotel bookings and flight revenue. Hosting such events generates soft power. The host nation shapes the agenda, attracts investors, and sets the tone of continental dialogue. South Africa has mastered this art. Rwanda and Kenya are close behind. Nigeria, in contrast, remains a frequent guest rather than a host.

The numbers are sobering. In 2022, Africa Energy Week drew more than 5,000 participants and 21 energy ministers. Oando Energy Services, a Nigerian firm, was a Gold Sponsor, helping fund a gathering held thousands of kilometres away. South Africa’s Meetings Africa generates about R388.5 million in economic impact yearly. Nigeria’s share in this industry, by comparison, is negligible. The International Congress and Convention Association ranked Nigeria 14th in Africa for major meetings in 2023, well below its economic standing. What this reveals is not a lack of capacity but a failure of organisation and confidence.

Why Nigeria is left out

International event organisers crave reliability. They want clear procedures, stable infrastructure, and predictable environments. Nigeria, fairly or not, is seen as lacking these fundamentals. Concerns about security, power supply, traffic, and bureaucracy deter bids.

In other countries, governments treat conference tourism as a strategic investment. Ministries, tourism boards, and city councils coordinate incentives and guarantees. Nigeria has no such mechanism. Each event bid is left to chance, with no central office to court organisers or support logistics.

Infrastructure is another barrier. Lagos and Abuja have decent convention centres, but air connectivity, customs bottlenecks, and hotel logistics remain weak links. Currency volatility compounds the problem. For global organisers, negotiating contracts in naira feels risky when the exchange rate can change overnight.

Finally, Nigeria lacks a track record. Without examples of large-scale, successfully managed continental events, organisers hesitate to take the first risk. The result is a cycle: Nigeria is not chosen because it has not hosted, and it has not hosted because it is not chosen.

What Nigeria can gain

If Nigeria broke that cycle, the returns would be immediate and lasting. The country would gain not just in tourism receipts but in reputation. Hosting conferences signals competence. It allows the government and private sector to showcase stability, culture, and innovation.

Moreover, it strengthens local industries, from event planning and catering to logistics and media production. It builds domestic capacity for future global engagement. Above all, it keeps the narrative of Africa’s development closer to where it should be, at home, not abroad.

The path forward

Nigeria should no longer leave such opportunities to chance. The federal government ought to establish a National Strategic Events and Conferences Office (NSECO), a single coordinating body empowered to bid for major events and support their delivery.

This office can work with ministries of tourism, trade, and foreign affairs to identify priority sectors – energy, agriculture, finance, technology – and prepare competitive bids. A dedicated hosting fund would de-risk the process and signal seriousness to international partners.

At the same time, existing venues in Lagos, Abuja, and Port Harcourt must be upgraded to meet international standards, with guaranteed power, broadband, and cargo handling. Air routes should be expanded to link Nigeria more closely with other African hubs.

Finally, Nigerian companies that spend millions sponsoring events abroad should begin to demand that such conferences be hosted here. Corporate champions can play a decisive role in shifting perception.

Reclaiming the stage

Nigeria cannot remain the continent’s intellectual and financial contributor while others reap the hosting rewards. To lead Africa’s economic and policy conversations, Nigeria must provide the venue, not just the voices.

When the next Africa Energy Week or similar event is announced, it should not require Nigerian delegates to fly thousands of kilometres to attend. Let them drive to the venue in Lagos or Abuja, where the banners, logistics, and hospitality reflect the host nation’s strength.

Nigeria has the people, the companies, and the ideas. What it needs now is the will to host its own place in Africa’s story.

Okoroafor writes from the UK