
Last week’s destruction of six 330kV transmission towers, T125 to T130, on the Apir–Lafia lines I and II, is not just another outage report but a national emergency hiding in plain sight. At 1:15 a.m. on May 30, 2026, during a downpour, vandals struck critical components of the towers, collapsing both lines and plunging parts of Nasarawa, Benue, and sections of the AEDC and JEDC franchise areas into darkness. TCN engineers are now racing to rebuild, with Lafia 330kV station temporarily fed through the Lafia–Jos line as a stopgap, yet stopgaps have become our national policy. For decades, Nigeria’s electricity supply has limped from one crisis to another: under-generation, liquidity shortfalls, gas constraints, and a fragile transmission network, and vandalism turns that limp into a fall.
This Apir–Lafia attack is merely the latest in a grim catalogue. In 2023, vandals destroyed Tower 104 on the Odukpani–Ikot Ekpene 330kV line; in 2024, the Gombe–Damaturu–Maiduguri line was repeatedly hit, cutting off Borno for weeks. Shiroro–Katampe, Ahoada–Yenagoa, and the Benin–Ajaokuta lines have all suffered similar fates, and each incident strips megawatts from an already-starved grid, wastes billions in repairs, and deepens public cynicism. TCN itself admits this “undermines years of investment in the sector”.
The cost goes far beyond blackouts. Manufacturers switch to diesel at N1,300+/litre while SMEs shut early and cold chains collapse, with the World Bank estimating Nigeria loses $29bn annually to unreliable power — a figure vandalism compounds. Hospitals run on fumes, students read by torchlight, and in Lafia and environs today, households and businesses ration what little supply the Jos line can wheel. Dark neighbourhoods embolden criminals, and worse, the scrap-metal economy that drives tower vandalism is linked to armed groups who see national assets as ATMs. No serious investor will fund new generation or transmission if the towers are cannibalised before commissioning, because we cannot grid our way out of poverty if we won’t guard the grid.
Condemnation is cheap and TCN has issued it, but what we need is a doctrine of deterrence and redesign. Accordingly, the National Assembly should pass the Critical Infrastructure Protection Bill with stiff, fast-track penalties, because vandalism of transmission towers must carry the same weight as economic sabotage. We must prosecute, name, and shame, ending the era of “unknown gunmen” headlines and closed files. At the same time, we should deploy drone surveillance, buried vibration sensors, and SCADA-linked intrusion alarms on high-risk corridors like Apir–Lafia, Shiroro, and Odukpani, since the cost of sensors is trivial next to the cost of six collapsed towers. Right now, host communities often see towers but not power, so TCN and DisCos should formalise “Grid Guardians” — paid community watch groups with performance bonuses tied to zero-incident months — paired with accelerated electrification of those villages, because people protect what powers them. Over-dependence on long 330kV lines makes the grid brittle, so we must fast-track embedded generation, solar mini-grids, and state-level IPPs under the Electricity Act 2023; if vandals take out Apir–Lafia, Lafia shouldn’t go dark. Finally, most tower components end up in furnaces, so government must mandate digital tracking of scrap sales, licensing of smelters, and heavy fines for handling stolen power assets. If we cut the market, we cut the crime.
Though TCN has appealed for vigilance, but vigilance without trust is mere surveillance. Nigerians will defend the grid when the grid defends them — with light, with jobs, with accountability. We have endured decades of epileptic supply, we cannot endure decades of deliberate sabotage. The six towers on Apir–Lafia will be rebuilt, but the real question is whether we will rebuild the system that lets them fall in the first place. The darkness last week was not caused by rain. It was caused by us. And only we can end it.







