Behind the Label: Nigeria’s Salt Crisis, Big Food’s Grip, and the Fight for Public Health

Nigeria’s public health crisis is deepening, not necessarily from hunger or infectious disease, but from what fills the average citizen’s plate, heavily processed, salt-packed, and sugar-laden foods. As non-communicable diseases like hypertension, stroke, and heart failure rise sharply, the need for bold policy action and public education has never been more urgent. Sunday Ehigiator writes

Salt, once a symbol of flavour and preservation, has become a vector for disease; non-communicable diseases (NCDs), hypertension, stroke, diabetes, heart and kidney failure, are rising at an alarming rate in Nigeria.

But unlike past decades when hunger and undernutrition dominated the health discourse, today, Nigerians are falling ill not from scarcity but from what they consume in abundance: ultra-processed, sodium-laden, and sugar-saturated foods.

It was against this backdrop that the Corporate Accountability and Public Participation Africa (CAPPA) convened a journalism training focused on salt reduction, front-of-pack warning labels (FOPWL), and industry interference in food regulation. The goal? Equip journalists to reclaim the food narrative and help counter the dangerous stranglehold of corporate influence.

“We Are Eating Ourselves to Death”

 “People are no longer dying from hunger alone,” said the Executive Director of CAPPA, Akinbode Oluwafemi, as he welcomed participants to the one-day workshop. “They are dying from what they eat.”

His words struck a chord. With precision, he outlined how Nigeria’s rapidly urbanising food culture has become fertile ground for ultra-processed foods: instant noodles, bouillon cubes, snack foods, sugar-sweetened beverages, all made cheap, accessible, and addictive.

According to the World Health Organisation (WHO), the recommended daily maximum for salt consumption is 5 grams. Yet in Nigeria, the average intake ranges between 7 and 10 grams, almost double.

This excess isn’t from the saltshaker. It’s hidden in everyday products, seasoning powders, processed meats, sauces, and canned foods, many of which are unlabeled or misrepresented.

“Nutritional realities are either obscured or entirely missing from labels,” Oluwafemi added. “This is a design problem; not an accident; and it reflects who controls our food system.”

The War behind the Supermarket Shelf

The workshop’s theme, ‘Industry Interference and Response Building’, turned a spotlight on the political economy of food. Nigeria’s public health crisis, participants were told, is entangled in the silent war between corporate profit and consumer safety.

From behind glossy advertising campaigns and charitable gestures lies an industry vigorously working to obstruct life-saving food regulations.

These tactics, according to the CAPPA presentation “Unmasking Industry,” include: Deceptive marketing, especially targeting children and low-income families; funding research that downplays the dangers of sodium and sugar, lobbying policy makers behind closed doors, greenwashing harmful products through CSR activities, and deploying influencers to shift public perception in their favour.

“There’s nothing accidental about it,” one participant observed. “It mirrors the same tactics Big Tobacco used: confuse the public, delay regulations, and protect profit margins.”

Salt Targets and the Power of Policy

But the battle isn’t being waged in the media alone. There are policy wins worth noting. In November 2025, Nigeria launched its National Sodium Reduction Guidelines, marking a major step toward cutting population-wide salt intake.

The guidelines recommend a 15 per cent reduction in sodium content within the first two years of implementation (2026–2028), followed by an additional 15 per cent reduction by 2030. They also include salt targets for major processed food categories like bread, bouillon cubes, snacks, and instant noodles.

If effectively enforced, these targets could prevent thousands of premature deaths annually. Yet, implementation remains a hurdle. Many food companies are resisting reformulation. Government oversight is patchy. Public awareness is limited. And the noise from industry lobbyists is deafening.

A Label That Could Save Lives

One of the most transformative tools presented at the training was the Front-of-Pack Warning Label (FOPWL), a policy that empowers consumers to identify harmful products at a glance.

“No one should need a degree in nutrition to know what they’re eating,” Oluwafemi argued. “FOPWL puts power back in the hands of the people.”

Examples from countries like Chile, Mexico, and Brazil show just how effective this can be. In Chile, warning labels on sugary beverages led to a measurable reduction in consumption and prompted manufacturers to reformulate their recipes to avoid negative attention. FOPWL doesn’t just inform; it reshapes the entire food ecosystem.

Nigeria is currently at a critical juncture. While the National Agency for Food and Drug Administration and Control (NAFDAC) is working on sodium benchmarks and product reformulation guidelines, the push for a mandatory, interpretive FOPWL system is facing resistance.

The biggest obstacle?, Industry actors who argue that such labels would “hurt sales” or “mislead” consumers. One trainer puts it bluntly: “What they mean is it’ll hurt profits.”

Journalism at the Frontline

Throughout the training, journalists were reminded that their pens are powerful tools in this public health battle. “You are not neutral observers,” a facilitator said. “You are the voice that can expose manipulation and inspire action.”

Participants were urged to investigate the funding behind nutrition research, report on industry-government relationships, demystify complex food policies for the public, centre the stories of those most affected, everyday Nigerians battling diet-related illness by asking difficult questions: who benefits from this food system? Who loses? Whose voices are missing? Journalists can begin to shift the narrative.

A Food System Ripe for Reform

Despite the grim data, the training struck a hopeful tone. With the right policies, public support, and sustained media pressure, Nigeria can transform its food system.

Food and Nutrition Scientist at CAPPA, Bukola Odele, presented the core science and policies needed for progress. Her presentation highlighted how salt reduction is one of the most cost-effective public health strategies recommended by the WHO, with a $12.82 return on every $1 invested.

“Reducing salt intake by just 30% could save 1.6 million lives globally each year,” she said. “It’s a win for health and for the economy.”

And yet, Nigeria still lacks mandatory sodium reduction regulations, a national FOPWL framework, comprehensive monitoring of sodium content in processed foods, and sufficient public education on healthy eating.

Consumers in the Crossfire

The real victims of this crisis are everyday Nigerians, particularly low-income families who rely heavily on cheap processed foods for survival. These families often lack access to transparent nutritional information, healthy alternatives, or the purchasing power to choose better.

“They tell us instant noodles are fortified, bouillon cubes have iron,” said Blessing Olajundoye of BO News, during a breakout session. “But they don’t tell us what the sodium content is doing to our blood pressure.”

In rural and urban communities alike, dietary health is now a frontline concern. Whether it’s a mother feeding her children fast food or a student surviving on salty snacks, the stakes are real and immediate.

The Road Ahead: Building Resistance, Telling Truths

The “Unmasking Industry” framework offered a clear action plan which revolves around denormalising unhealthy products and exposing deceptive marketing, pushes for strong food regulations, modelled after WHO’s Tobacco Control Framework, mobilises community-led resistance to industry interference, and supports legal frameworks that protect policy from private capture.

The media’s role in this fight cannot be overstated. The food industry is organised, hence it’s also time the truth became just as loud.

The crisis of Nigeria’s food environment is not an accident; it is the result of deliberate choices made by powerful actors. But it can be reversed.

Policies like salt targets and front-of-pack warning labels are not just bureaucratic exercises; they are lifelines. They are how governments protect citizens from harm. They are how people reclaim agency over their health.

But without public awareness and political will, even the best policies can falter. That’s why CAPPA’s workshop matters; not just for the journalists in the room, but for every Nigerian who deserves to live in a country where food nourishes, not kills. In this battle between health and profit, journalism must be the megaphone of the people.