Airports are supposed to be gateways of trust, efficiency, and safety — places where national pride and professionalism meet the global aviation standard. In Nigeria, however, our airports have too often become a theatre of chaos, a breeding ground for extortion, inefficiency, and systemic corruption that has eaten deep into the very core of our aviation operations. From check-in to boarding, passengers are subjected to a gauntlet of unnecessary checks, bureaucratic posturing, and shameless financial exploitation, all in the name of “procedure.”
It is not the security protocols themselves that are the problem — international airports everywhere have checks. The problem in Nigeria is the manner in which these checks are conducted: repetitive, disorganized, and manipulated to create opportunities for extortion. You will find uniformed officers stationed at almost every corner — security, customs, quarantine, NDLEA, FAAN, even some so-called “special task force” officers — each one stopping passengers under the guise of inspection, but many subtly or directly requesting “something for the boys” before you can pass. The term “VIP treatment” has been twisted into a code word for paying bribes to bypass the queues, while those without “connections” endure deliberate delays.
Renowned film producer and director Kunle Afolayan, en route to spend the holidays with his family, found that not even a celebrity pedigree offers immunity. At Murtala Muhammed International Airport, just after checking in their luggage, Afolayan’s wife was pulled aside at the final security checkpoint under the pretext of a perfunctory inspection. A customs officer smilingly whispered that “there’s a small problem,” but it could be “settled” only through a cash payment, no receipt offered. Fearing she would miss the flight, she handed over naira notes—an exchange she would later describe as excruciatingly humiliating: “I felt like I was being robbed in broad daylight, only that the robbers were in uniform.”
That narrative—framed in the video’s intense emotional appeal and now grounded in reality by Afolayan’s story—brings a face to the faceless corruption. It’s not about abstract systems; it’s about real people, real reputations, and the deep moral violations that occur in airport corridors.
While Kunle Afolayan’s incident captures attention because of his fame, ordinary passengers across the diaspora recount eerily similar ordeals, reinforcing that this is not an isolated occurrence.
Take the story of Yemi, a Nigerian living in the UK who recently visited Lagos for the holidays. Her return trip was marred by a disturbing encounter with a customs officer at Murtala Muhammed International Airport. After checking in her luggage, she was pulled aside at the final security point where her bag was opened unnecessarily. The officer smiled and whispered that “there’s a small problem” but that it could be “settled.” She was told to either pay cash there and then — no receipt — or face her luggage being held for “further screening.” Out of fear of missing her flight, Yemi handed over some naira notes. She later described the experience as humiliating, saying, “I felt like I was being robbed in broad daylight, only that the robbers were in uniform.”
Abdul, who flew in from Dubai for a business trip, shared a similar ordeal. Upon departure, after passing through three different checks, he was stopped by another set of officers who claimed that his documents “needed further verification.” He was asked to “assist” with ₦10,000 in order to avoid “delays.” Abdul’s frustration was evident: “It’s not about the money; it’s about the shame. You cannot run a world-class airport when your staff are trained in the art of begging and intimidation instead of customer service.”
Stephen, a Nigerian-American from Texas, recounted how his luggage mysteriously failed to arrive at his destination. After filing a complaint, he was told by a ground staff member that it could be “traced faster” if he “appreciated” the staff with a small payment. Stephen refused on principle and had to wait over two weeks before his bag was returned, with some of his belongings missing.
Adeola, who flew in from Canada, faced an even more insulting scenario. During boarding at Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport in Abuja, she was stopped by a security officer who claimed that her hand luggage was “too big” — despite it being the standard airline size. She was told that she could either check it in and risk paying a penalty fee, or “settle here and now” to carry it onboard. She described the encounter as “pure daylight extortion.”
This pattern is not an isolated incident but a chronic disease plaguing Nigeria’s aviation system. Passengers constantly complain about lost luggage, long delays, rude staff, and an atmosphere that treats travelers like potential criminals rather than valued customers. The layers of checks are not genuinely about safety; they are about creating more opportunities for unscrupulous officers to demand unofficial payments.
International best practices dictate that security and customs processes should be streamlined, transparent, and respectful. In Nigeria, the reverse seems to be the case. The moment you enter the airport, you are met with a gauntlet of officials whose primary focus seems to be eye service for cameras when VIPs are present, and harassment of ordinary travelers when they are not. These officers have perfected a dual personality — smiling and waving for the press in front of dignitaries, then turning into predatory gatekeepers once the cameras are gone.
The greater tragedy is that this climate of corruption has tangible safety risks. Every moment spent harassing passengers for money is a moment not spent on genuine security screening. Every unrecorded “settlement” payment undermines the chain of accountability. And every VIP who jumps the queue weakens the integrity of the boarding process.
Leading media investigations have unearthed similar patterns. ThisDay reported that multiple agencies at Lagos airport continue to extort travelers, especially targeting those with “virgin passports,” pressuring them to “sort things out” efficiently—meaning pay a bribe . Undercover footage and reports have revealed customs officers openly demanding money from passengers—instances crystallized in CCTV evidence . And amidst the viral fallout, the Nigeria Customs Service has launched investigations into involved officers, though such gestures have yet to deter the tide of misconduct  .
Meanwhile, conversations on platforms like Reddit reinforce the damage to Nigeria’s image. One traveler bluntly described Lagos airport as a “lion’s den,” urging fellow passengers to always carry recording devices for protection . Another traveler, recounting their “hassle-free” experience, added how surprising it was—“I realized I hadn’t bribed a single person that day”—highlighting how bribes have become an expectation, rather than an exception .
These narratives expose a systemic fracture: Airports should be beacons of national hospitality and security. Instead, Nigeria’s airports have become venues where financial extraction is prioritized over passenger dignity and global reputation. The cumulative effect is corrosive: travelers endure humiliation, airlines bear undue operational burdens, and Nigeria’s status as an aviation hub is diminished.
The time for cosmetic fixes is over. The Ministry of Aviation, FAAN, NCAA, and Customs Service must lead transformative action—deploying automation to reduce human interference, enforcing zero-tolerance anti-corruption protocols, enforcing transparent grievance mechanisms, and rooting out institutional rot with genuine accountability.
Because when even respected professionals like Kunle Afolayan are subject to such indignities, it signals a systemic injustice. Aviation doesn’t just convey people; it reflects a country’s values. Until Nigerian airports honor integrity, safety, and professionalism over cash handoffs, the journey into the skies will remain tainted.
Nigeria cannot claim to be open for business or tourism if its airport experience leaves visitors angry, embarrassed, and unwilling to return. The aviation industry is one of the most regulated in the world; failure to address these issues risks blacklisting, reduced international flights, and damage to the country’s image.
It is time for the Ministry of Aviation, the Federal Airports Authority of Nigeria (FAAN), the Nigerian Civil Aviation Authority (NCAA), and the Presidency to take decisive action. Not through public relations statements or one-off “investigations” that lead nowhere, but through deep systemic reform. This must include training, strict anti-corruption monitoring, streamlining of security checks, removal of redundant personnel, and swift prosecution of any official caught engaging in extortion.
If we fail to act, our airports will continue to be global symbols of dysfunction — monuments to a system where passengers are prey and corruption is the unspoken boarding pass. The Nigerian aviation industry has the potential to be a source of national pride, but it will never get there if its lifeblood — the passengers — continue to be treated as mere opportunities for exploitation rather than the very reason for its existence.
1stafrika.com investigative reporting on the systemic corruption plaguing the Nigeria aviation industry.
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Video edited,reused from YouTube channel Africa Channel TV
