In this opinion piece, Adebisi Odeleye, founder of skincare brand Moore Organics, and guest contributor, shares her insight about Nigeria’s bizarre ban on shea exportation.
Nigeria recently announced a six-month suspension of raw shea nut exports, a decision framed as part of a broader push toward industrialisation. On the surface, this policy seems wise: stop exporting raw materials cheaply and instead build domestic industries that can create jobs, attract investment, and retain wealth within the country.
But behind every bag of shea nuts lies the sweat of rural Nigerian women from over 30 states of the 36 states where shea butter grows. It is women who pick the nuts, dry them in the sun, and sell them in local markets. For decades, these women have been the backbone of the shea industry, yet they have remained the most vulnerable participants in the value chain. The government’s decision, if not carefully managed, risks making their lives harder rather than better.
Already, early signs show farmgate prices are softening. With exporters sidelined, demand for raw nuts shrank, cutting into the earnings of women collectors who depend on quick cash sales. For these women, shea is not a luxury — it pays school fees, buys medicine, and puts food on the table. A policy that fails to acknowledge these immediate realities risks worsening rural poverty and increasing frustration. This may also lead to illegal smuggling of shea nuts across land borders.
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How the shea export ban can unlock local processing opportunities
Yet, there is another side to this story. This export ban could also be a historic turning point. For too long, Nigeria has supplied nearly 40% of the world’s raw shea nuts but earned less than 2% of the global shea butter market. By encouraging local processing, we have the chance to capture far greater value, diversify its exports, and build globally competitive industries. Women-led enterprises — like Moore Organics —produces African Beauty products for domestic and international markets. They stand to benefit significantly if they receive support to scale.
However, such a transition will not happen by decree alone. Practical action must match policy ambition . In the words of the Minister for Industry, Trade and Investment, Dr Jumoke Oduwole: Talk is cheap, policy is academic. For policy to meet implementation and good results, there is a need to act on these three priorities
Protect farmers with fair prices: Without stabilising incomes at the grassroots, the ban risks punishing women collectors instead of empowering them. The government and cooperatives should use minimum support prices or buffer purchase programs to ensure rural women don’t have to sell their nuts at very low prices.
Strengthen women’s cooperatives with storage and finance: Shea nuts lose value quickly if poorly stored. Affordable investments in drying mats, raised racks, ventilated warehouses, and small-scale finance can help women protect quality and negotiate better prices. Empowering women’s groups in this way also strengthens their voice in the marketplace.
Nigeria must invest in local processing capacity: The recent commissioning of a 30,000-tonne shea processing plant by a state governor is welcome development , but it raises a critical question: what happens to the women? Most Nigerian processors — many of them women — still lack access to affordable credit, modern equipment, and stable export markets. Without these supports, the surplus generated by the export ban may bypass them entirely, fueling resentment and driving smuggling across porous borders.
Women are at the heart of Nigeria’s shea industry transformation
This issue goes beyond economics. It is about preventing monopolies and ensuring fair participation for women entrepreneurs. For generations, women have been the backbone of the shea industry, yet they have reaped the smallest share of its global value. Nigeria must place women at the heart of its strategy as it aspires to climb the value chain. Failing to do so risks repeating the old extractive patterns — where a few prosper while the majority are left behind.
If managed well, this six-month pause could be the seed of Nigeria’s industrial transformation. It could create jobs, strengthen women-led businesses, and eventually position Nigeria as a serious player in the global shea economy. However, if mismanaged, it will fuel smuggling, collapse rural incomes, and hand over market share to regional competitors such as Ghana, Burkina Faso, and Benin.
The future of women in the industry
The government must decide what story it wants this ban to tell. Will it be a story of empowerment, where Nigerian women rise as the true custodians of a billion-dollar industry? Or will it be another tale of policy failure, where the poorest bear the heaviest burden of reform? For the sake of the women under the shea trees — and for the future of Nigeria’s economy — we must get this right.
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