Shell’s Grand Escape: Ditching the Niger Delta With a Toxic Parting Gift

Will Shell be forced to face the music, or will their toxic legacy be a burden borne by the Niger Delta for generations to come? Only time will tell, but for now, Shell’s exit strategy reads more like a crime thriller than a corporate transition plan.

Posted by John Donovan: 28 Feb 24

Oh, what’s this? Shell, the darling of the fossil fuel world, is attempting the corporate equivalent of dine and dash, but instead of skipping out on a restaurant bill, they’re leaving behind a slightly more problematic souvenir in the Niger Delta: a colossal, toxic mess. In a move that’s about as shocking as finding oil in the delta, Shell is trying to ghost the region with a cheeky $2.4 billion sale of its onshore assets to the Renaissance Africa Energy Company. But here’s the kicker: they’re packing up their oil-stained bags without cleaning up the environmental disaster they’ve lovingly crafted over the decades.

Enter stage left: activists, both local and international, who are not amused by Shell’s attempt at a smoke bomb exit. They’re calling on Nigeria’s government to pump the brakes on this sale faster than you can say “environmental accountability.” Why? Because Shell’s parting gift to the Niger Delta includes a legacy of pollution that would make even the most hardened oil tycoon blush.

The Centre for Research on Multinational Corporations (SOMO), those pesky truth-seekers, have thrown down the gauntlet with a report that essentially says, “Not so fast, Shell.” They argue that Shell should be barred from exiting stage right until they’ve cleaned up their act — literally. This includes taking “responsibility for its toxic legacy of pollution and ensures the safe decommissioning of abandoned oil infrastructure.”

Lezina Mgbar, a 54-year-old healthcare worker and part-time activist, paints a grim picture of life in the shadow of Shell’s legacy. With a daily routine that sounds more like a dystopian novel, residents trek miles for clean water, kids are late to school, and the land yields about as much crop as a concrete floor. Her message to Shell? “Restore our land and clean our water before any divestment.” But, you know, in more of a “we’re not asking, we’re telling” kind of way.

Shell, in their infinite wisdom, insists that the sale is just part of the “wider reconfiguration of the Nigerian oil and gas sector” — a phrase so vague it could mean anything from “we’re making things better” to “we’re rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.” And while Shell boasts about its departure, activists and critics are sounding the alarm louder than a drill rig, claiming Shell’s exit could set a dangerous precedent for other companies to hit and run, leaving behind environmental chaos and communities in crisis.

Audrey Gaughran of SOMO doesn’t mince words, accusing Shell of performing “the ultimate Houdini act” — selling off its toxic assets and skipping town before the environmental reckoning. With decades of profits wrung from the Niger Delta, Shell leaves a legacy that, according to Gaughran, will “remain well beyond the lifetime of the industry.”

But wait, there’s more. Shell, the master of deflection, claims that oil theft and pipeline interference are the real villains here. However, as the report sharply notes, this excuse doesn’t absolve them of the duty to clean up their mess. Under Nigerian law, it’s their party, and they’re responsible for the cleanup, regardless of who crashed it.

In a world where corporate responsibility often feels like an oxymoron, Shell’s attempt to slip out the back door of the Niger Delta is a stark reminder of the challenges facing a just energy transition. As activists and communities stand firm, demanding accountability, the world watches and waits. Will Shell be forced to face the music, or will their toxic legacy be a burden borne by the Niger Delta for generations to come? Only time will tell, but for now, Shell’s exit strategy reads more like a crime thriller than a corporate transition plan.