AEDC: What It Takes To Get A Meter

Data is good, but it often doesn’t tell the whole story. Data cannot capture the extent of our efforts to get a prepaid meter at my workplace in Abuja after we were disconnected from the grid in February. We’re still off-grid. Our meter misery mocks any statistics you may find on the Nigerian Electricity Regulatory Commission (NERC) website.
Before we were cut off, things seemed fine because we were on estimated billing. In case this doesn’t make sense, estimated billing is an improvised metering system that allows the distribution company to estimate what you should pay for electricity, even if there is no electricity. It’s a best-case scenario that consistently delivers the worst possible outcome – darkness.
Yet, the estimated bill, like Caesar’s wife, is beyond suspicion. You must accept it for what it is, or negotiate for less by paying a bribe.
The band beat
When the tariff for “Band A” was increased, things got pretty chaotic. Customers like LEADERSHIP (where I work) that didn’t have a prepaid meter became prey to the staff of the Abuja Electricity Distribution Company (AEDC). AEDC fixed prices, which were often more than double what we had been paying before, and threatened to raise them further if we didn’t pay quickly.
Each time they came by in their rickety branded vans, with cable remnants in the open-back bed, harnesses, pliers, and an extension ladder among their more visible tools of terror, they threatened that we must pay what they had unilaterally decided, or be disconnected.
They wouldn’t mind if we could “do something,” the euphemism for a bribe: Pay the punitive bill or “do something” was the only option.
Enough is enough!
I decided that enough was enough. After a meeting with some senior staff members, we told the AEDC people to disconnect us. Our in-house power audit indicated that, even though we were taking a hit from energy costs that had gone up roughly 500 – 600 per cent in the last three years – the highest levels in 28 years – with control and better discipline, the difference between AEDC’s estimated bills and relying on the combined power from our generators and partial solar coverage would not be significant. We could manage in the short run.
But we decided not to leave the matter there. We complained formally. We were hopeful that even if AEDC field staff had gone rogue, their bosses would call them to order, investigate our complaint, and give us a prepaid meter. That was all we asked for. Surely, that was not too much.
Our journey to a prepaid meter from AEDC, which started in February, is now in its seventh month. After our complaint went unanswered for the first two or three weeks of February, we went to the top.
Oga at the top
We reached out to the MD, one Mr. Chijoke Okwuokenye, who seemed quite eager to help.
If you’re familiar with Nigerian big men, especially public-sector-minded ones, and you think seeing them is hard, wait until you ask them to perform a service.
There’s nothing they love like shoving you off to a subordinate who they know will exhaust you faster than a balloon on needles. The MD didn’t disappoint, which was shocking from the top shot of a company still so financially fragile that its consumer services were subsidised by N26.4 billion in 2024.
He directed us to an engineer, Jonathan Adeyemi, who asked us to apply for a meter. Of course, we applied only to be told that AEDC didn’t have any pre-paid meters at the time. They directed us to one of their vendors, in what now seemed like the second half of a meter ping-pong game.
Another oga at the top



