Benue strikes oil: Tinubu’s transparent licensing drive puts neglected Nigerian state on energy map

 Three frontier blocks awarded in 2025 round end decades of unfulfilled promise in Middle Belt and signal shift toward rules-based resource allocation_  

By Dooyum Naadzenga 

MAKURDI

MAKURDI — In Otukpo market last week, traders paused between sacks of yam to watch the announcement on a phone held aloft. In Apa, elders gathered under a mango tree. In Makurdi, the Benue State government house released a statement within minutes.  

For the first time in Nigeria’s petroleum history, Benue has won acreage.  

The state secured three oil and gas exploration blocks — PPL 800, PPL 801 and PPL 902 — in the federal government’s 2025 licensing round. They sit across the Benue Trough and the Anambra Basin, covering parts of Otukpo, Apa and Okpokwu local government areas.  

It is being called a breakthrough in a state that has spent decades on the periphery of Nigeria’s oil story. It is also being watched, closely, as a test of whether President Bola Tinubu’s promise of reform can deliver outside the Niger Delta.

A process designed to look different*

Nigeria’s licensing rounds have a troubled reputation. For years, awards were opaque, delayed, and often litigated. That history made confidence fragile.  

This time, officials say, the script changed. The Nigerian Upstream Petroleum Regulatory Commission ran the exercise to a published timetable. Criteria were public. Bids were evaluated against technical and financial benchmarks. Even companies that lost described the process as “fair and professional” in post-round briefings.

Much of that discipline has been credited to NUPRC Chief Executive Oritsemeyiwa Eyesan. Since taking office, she has pushed digital tracking of work programmes and a “drill-or-drop” policy: develop the asset or lose it.  

“People are beginning to believe the rules matter,” said an Abuja energy consultant who advised two bidders. “That is new. And it is why Benue’s win feels legitimate, not political.”

For Tinubu, the optics are useful. Elected on a platform of economic reform, he has faced pressure to show that competence can trump patronage. Placing a technocrat like Eyesan at the regulator, and backing a transparent round, gives the administration a tangible result to point to.

Geology old, politics new

Benue’s petroleum potential is not a discovery. Shell, Chevron and others did seismic and exploratory drilling in the Benue Trough from the 1950s through the 1980s. They found indications of hydrocarbons. None found enough, at then-current prices and with then-current technology, to justify commercial production.  

The acreage was l

eft largely untouched while investment concentrated in the Niger Delta and, later, deepwater offshore.  

What has changed is the policy framework. The Petroleum Industry Act 2021 created a clearer fiscal regime. The NUPRC’s new approach ties licences to strict timelines. And Nigeria, facing declining output in mature fields, is actively courting frontier basins to replace reserves.

The three blocks now awarded to Benue interests span some of the same ground Shell once looked at. The difference, regulators argue, is that this time there is a contract, a timeline, and consequences for inaction.

From local cheer to statewide calculation

The immediate reaction has been celebration in the host communities. But the conversation in Makurdi, Tarka and Gwer West suggests people see this as bigger than three LGAs.  

“Oil is not just for Otukpo,” said a civil society leader in the capital. “If there is gas, we need power. If there are roads, we all use them. If there are jobs, our children need them.”  

That sense of shared stake matters. In Nigeria, resource projects fail as often from mistrust as from geology. When a wider population feels included, projects gain social licence. When they don’t, they stall.

There is also a technical conversation happening behind the scenes. Dr Jeffrey Kuraun, a Benue-born petroleum engineer who served as secretary on the technical implementation committee, has been mentioned frequently in local media. Officials are careful not to overstate any single role — licensing is a multi-agency process — but his presence has become part of the public narrative about Benue expertise being at the table.

The hard part starts now

The awards are not yet full licences. Winners must pay signature bonuses, meet equity and work-programme requirements, and secure ministerial consent before exploration can begin. The NUPRC says it will monitor milestones quarterly.

That is where frontier projects usually stumble. Capital is expensive. Security concerns persist in parts of the Middle Belt. Infrastructure is thin. And global investors are increasingly asking whether new oil makes sense in a world shifting toward gas and renewables.

Benue’s advocates argue the state has two advantages. First, the blocks include gas potential, which aligns with Nigeria’s declared “Decade of Gas” and with demand for power generation and industrial feedstock. Second, the political signal from Abuja is that frontier development is a priority.

“If they drill and find commercial volumes, you are looking at direct jobs, service contracts, local content spending, and probably roads,” said the Abuja consultant. “If they don’t drill in 3 years, the blocks go back. That is the point of drill-or-drop.”

*What it means for Nigeria*

Beyond Benue, the round matters for three reasons.

First, it tests whether a rules-based process can attract investment to non-traditional areas. If it can, similar basins in the Chad Basin, Sokoto and Bida may see renewed interest.

Second, it gives Tinubu a concrete example of reform delivering outside Lagos and the Delta — politically important ahead of 2027.

Third, it puts pressure on the NUPRC to enforce its own rules. A transparent award means little if there is no transparent follow-through.

*Patience meeting policy*

For Benue, the mood is best described as hopeful realism. People remember the Shell wells that never became fields. They also remember decades of waiting while oil money flowed elsewhere.

Now, with a regulator insisting on timelines, a president talking about competence, and acreage finally in the state’s name, there is a new phrase in circulation: “this time might be different.”

Whether it is will depend on seismic crews, drilling rigs, community agreements, and money. The geology has been waiting. The policy, for once, appears to be moving.  

If both hold, Benue’s breakthrough may be remembered not just as the day three blocks were awarded, but as the moment a frontier state stepped into Nigeria’s economic mainstream.