Lagos: Is It Detty or Greedy December?

Vanessa Obioha

A few days ago, reality TV star Laura Ikeji raised the alarm over how businesses are hiking prices under the guise of the festive season, popularly dubbed ‘Detty December.’  In a viral clip, Ikeji lamented that her hairdresser, who braided her hair for 70,000 before she left Nigeria, now wants to charge 200,000 for the same hairstyle to her friend, simply because the client is an IJGB (“I just got back”), a term used for members of the diaspora returning home for the holidays.

Ikeji’s outcry echoes a growing list of grievances associated with Detty December. While the term has evolved into a cultural phenomenon that many in the diaspora eagerly anticipate, it is increasingly becoming a minting machine for Nigerian businesses keen to milk seasonal demand.

As early as August, the hum of Detty December begins. Airfares start to climb, event centres are snapped up, and even when venues are available, customers often have to pay through their nose. By the first week of December, the rave is in full swing. E-hailing services like Uber and Bolt jack up fares astronomically. A trip from Surulere to Ikeja, which typically costs between N6,000 and N7,000, can easily double depending on the time of day and surge pricing.

The tailoring business tells a similar story. While it is understandable that rates increase during December due to heavy workloads, some tailors have taken advantage of the Detty December frenzy to raise prices to unreasonable levels.

For diasporans opting for short-let apartments, the experience is hardly any easier. Some are forced to pay close to N3 million for a two-week stay, an amount equivalent to the annual rent for a two-bedroom apartment in parts of Lagos.

In fact, almost every business tied to the festive season appears to cash in aggressively, prompting many Nigerians to cry foul.

Detty December emerged in the pre-COVID era, at a time when Afrobeats was gaining global traction and conversations around Nigeria’s creative economy were gathering momentum. Flagship events sprang up around the Yuletide season—from Access Bank’s Born in Africa Festival to Livespot X by Darey Art Alade and his wife, and the curated concerts by the consortium XChange 100. Although COVID stalled activities briefly, by 2023 the Detty December rave had returned in full force, expanding beyond music to include theatre productions, art and fashion shows. Last year alone, the Lagos State Government reportedly generated over $71.6 million from tourism, hospitality and entertainment tied to Detty December.

Traditionally, the festive season was a major household event. Many families saved toward December celebrations from as early as January, while others factored it into their budgets later in the year. Today, however, economic strain and insecurity have dampened the mood. The rising cost of living and food inflation are forcing more households to hold on to their savings rather than splurge on celebrations.

Although Detty December festivities cut across several states, Lagos has firmly positioned itself as the epicentre. Beyond its status as a cultural and commercial hub, insecurity in parts of the South-east has led many to remain in Lagos, where crime rates are perceived to be lower. Yet, this relative safety comes at a steep cost if visitors and residents alike feel constantly exploited. The danger is that unchecked greed could eventually discourage diasporans from returning home at all. As Ikeji rightly noted, they too are simply individuals trying to make a living abroad.

This concern was equally shared by the National President of the Association of Tourism Practitioners of Nigeria (ATPN), Prince Femi Fadina, who warned against the unsustainable exploitation of the Detty December brand.

“If we don’t fix the fundamentals, Detty December will soon become a cautionary tale of how a generation allowed greed to suffocate a billion-dollar seasonal economy before it ever matured,” he cautioned.

The question now is whether Nigeria will protect Detty December as a cultural asset, or allow it to be priced beyond the reach of the people it was meant to welcome home.