Shopping spree in Lagos as malls finally arrive in Nigeria

Nigeria's middle class can now enjoy retail therapy closer to home.

In the old days, for some, going shopping in Nigeria meant going to London.

Now Nigerians, at least in Lagos, can go to the country's first shopping mall and parade past air-conditioned shops of clothes and jewellery, or sit in a coffee shop, sipping a latte or cappuccino. The centrepiece is a South African Shoprite supermarket - again Nigeria's first - where the middle classes can buy ordinary things such as biscuits and pre-packed beef.

Not far away, on the edge of the street, are the old shops - open-air markets where women sit with little piles of tomatoes or onions on the ground in front of them. Nearby, in the open air hang slabs of meat feasted on by flies. Until a few years ago, these markets and a few family stores were all that was available as shops.

Elements of the old Nigeria are still visible at the Palms Mall. The Shoprite manager, Andrew Mweemba, complains that containers of perishables regularly get held up at the port. The local electricity supply is too unreliable, so the whole mall is powered by generators, which puts prices up. But, says Mweemba, they are hitting their targets and controlling costs.

They are planning several other malls in what must be one of the last countries in the world to enjoy retail services the rest of the human race take for granted. This is probably the most visible sign of a new Nigeria, a country that is becoming more in tune with the rest of the planet. Its cause is the growth of a young middle class, many of whom have returned from London or New York to work in the booming financial services industry.

The Nigerian "Big Bang" started in 2001 with a free auction for Nigeria's mobile phone licences. Stung by a global reputation for corruption and fraud, President Olusegun Obasanjo's government started to reform the banks, reducing their number from 89 to 25, and supporting businesses that wanted to do things according to international standards.

In the old days Nigerian business people were simply agents, getting contracts from the state or acting for foreign companies. Nigeria produced little except oil and gas, and its exceedingly rich elite stayed rich because of connections, not competence.

Osaze Osifo, 39, who worked for HSBC in London, is typical of the new generation. He and six other Nigerian professionals are setting up a US$300m ($407m) equity fund in cool, glass-panelled offices with a view across the lagoon and out to sea. They have international businessmen on to their board to make sure everything is done in accordance with international business practice.

"It is not just local people and people coming back from overseas," he explains. "Nigeria is where it is at. The hotels are full, and the merchant banks are beginning to arrive." What encouraged people like him to return was the business space opened up by the economic reforms. Obasanjo picked a business-minded team to run the economy and the national bank, and appointed a brave young police officer to run the anti-corruption body, the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission. Its spectacular investigations and arrests of prominent people have helped to persuade outsiders that you can do business in Nigeria without being corrupt. The sale of mobile phone licences in 2001 was the start of the new era, according to Osifo.