44 MiddleEast&Africa TheEconomistJanuary22nd 2022
challenge from a losing bidder, who al
leged in papers before the courts that he
had been asked to pay bribes to have his bid
considered. Mr Mantashe has said the ten
der was “correct, above board and trans
parent”. Karpowership has also denied any
wrongdoing. Yet until the case is resolved
the banks whose loans are needed will stay
well away from the deal.
Time is of the essence for Mr Rama
phosa, whose rivals within the ancare al
ready lining up to challenge him for the
leadership of the party at its next fiveyear
ly conference in December. Although na
tional elections are more than two years
away, the party has a habit of defenestrat
ing sitting presidents. It booted out two of
Mr Ramaphosa’s predecessors, Thabo
Mbeki and Jacob Zuma, before their presi
dential terms were up.
Mr Mantashe may well stand with Mr
Ramaphosa against the procorruption
wing of the anc—as he did in 2017—though
some pundits reckon he may also be consi
dering knifing the president to make his
own run for power. In either case he will
want the backing of the country’s two main
industrial trade unions, representing min
ers and metalworkers, which between
them muster some 650,000 members.
Both unions back coal, a big export (see
chart 2), and have opposed renewable pow
er, which has become a touchstone for the
political left: Floyd Shivambu, a leader of
the populist Economic Freedom Fighters
party, thinks renewable energy is “a colo
nial takeover engineered by the West”.
While the ancis focused on its internal
power struggles, many South Africans will
see the national elections in 2024 as an op
portunity to express their views on energy
policy. The start of Mr Ramaphosa’s cam
paign for the party’s presidential nomina
tion provides a fitting metaphor. As he was
addressing a fundraising gala in Polok
wane, a city in the north,thepower cut out,
leaving him, and the assembledancgran
dees, fumbling in the dark.nDirty business
World’s largest coal exporters, 2020, tonnes mSource:IEA2EUMongoliaColombiaCanadaSouth AfricaUnited StatesRussiaAustraliaIndonesia1000 200 300 400Nigeria’ssexindustryPotions for prudes
B
esidethefoodsellersata street mar
ket in Abuja, a man in a flowing white
kaftan holds a brown leather bag in one
hand. In the other, well, is a baby crocodile,
which he holds out to a potential custom
er. “Do you want to touch it?” he asks in
Hausa, a language spoken in northern Ni
geria and surrounding countries, before
offering far more than a fondle of a fero
cious reptile: medicines for a cold; for
chest pain; for a sore back; and to improve
sexual performance.
A protracted haggle ensues. Details are
discussed. Instructions are issued. Money
changes hands, as do powdered herbs
wrapped in paper. The trade in aphrodisi
acs in northern Nigeria is old and perva
sive. Herbs are sold in markets, shops, the
grounds of mosques, and now on social
media. How odd. This is a region that is
seen as culturally and religiously conser
vative. States enforce sharia on the Muslim
majority. Women here, who are often
garbed in bodylength hijabs, are thought
of as sexually repressed.
In the movies and literature of the re
gion, mostly in Hausa, physical contact be
tween men and women is frowned upon.
Two popular television shows were
banned by the government of Kano, the
most populous state in the north, because
of a scene in which three men held a wom
an in an autorickshaw. Since they were
unmarried, the scene offended the region’s
“norms, culture, values and religion”, said
the head of the censorship board. (That the
men were trying to abduct the woman
seems to have been less concerning.)But this seeming prudishness does not
extend to the marital bed, perhaps because
people believe God would like them to pro
create more. Imams may preach against
adultery. But when the call to prayer ends
on Fridays, a voice booms out over another
set of loudspeakers advertising a some
what earthlier elevation.
“It is everywhere now,” says Muham
madu Sani, a customer. “Even practition
ers of Islamic medicine now sell them.”
Some draw their formula from the recom
mendations of Islamic texts and practices
of early Muslim scholars. Their shops are
often neat, with shelves stacked with bot
tles of herbs and decoctions.
Women are not overlooked. The trade
in kayan mata(literally “women’s things”
in Hausa) is an old one, though it has been
engorged of late by claims that goron tula
(the “snot apple” fruit) boosts libido and
fertility. Among those promoting its pow
ers is Hauwa Saidu Mohammed, popularly
known as Jaruma, an entrepreneur and sex
therapist who boasts that her clients in
clude the wives of government ministers
and state governors. By offering doorstep
delivery and a suave service, she has
helped turn kayan matainto a major export
from the north to cities in the south such
as Lagos, the commercial capital.
More than a million people follow Jaru
ma on social media. Many women are
there for the scandals. In some posts she
has shamed politicians who she claims
bought her goods but did not pay up. In
others she offers salacious gossip about ce
lebrities whose marriages were consum
mated (or wrecked) with the help of her po
tions. Others just want to buy her tonics,
which include: “Divorce is not my portion”
(500,000 naira, or $1,200); “Love me like
crazy” (250,000 naira); and Ecstacy9
(65,000 naira). In a country where many
people earn no more than the minimum
wage of 30,000 naira permonth, such pric
es may arouse passion,evenif the pro
ducts themselves do not.nA BUJA
Nigeria’s conservative north is
overflowing with aphrodisiacs