How algorithms amplify tensions and truth on Nigeria’s social media

Once seen as gateways of unrestricted speech and global connectivity, social-networking sites have become powerful weapons to sway public opinion, influence elections, drive mass movements, and even incite war.

In Nigeria, a country of over 200 million people with one of the globe’s most booming internet markets, the influence of social media cannot be avoided and at its core, an invisible power is “the algorithm.”

Millions of Nigerians tap through Facebook, Twitter (now X), Instagram, and TikTok daily, soaking up the politics as well as the pop music. Most don’t know that what they are viewing is not just a function of their own agendas but also a carefully curated feed crafted by computers, advanced mathematical algorithms, and computer code to predict and manipulate user engagement.

“The problem isn’t that there are algorithms,” reckons Chidiebere Uzochukwu, a digital-culture consultant based in Abuja. “It’s that people don’t even realise they’re being manipulated by them.” 

Algorithms aren’t designed to favour engagement over facts. “That’s the game,” Uzochukwu says. “The algorithm doesn’t care if it’s a misleading headline or a viral meme, It is concerned with your attention only.” And in Nigeria, where political instability and ethnic tension hang by a thread, it can be unsafe.

Among the most severe consequences of social media algorithms is that they facilitate echo chambers arenas wherein users are most often given mainly opinions affirming their own. This may be a factor fostering tribalism, religious intolerance, and political radicalism. 

A Centre for Democracy and Development (CDD) report captures the instrumental role social media played in Nigeria’s 2023 general elections. Deceptive videos and doctored videos went viral in minutes, and the majority played on ethnic sentiments. 

“I witnessed five other videos claiming other individuals had manipulated the election prior to voting closure,” asserts digital rights activist Tolu Adeyemi. “None of those videos was confirmed. But others passed them like wildfire because they were sensational in nature and because the algorithm boosted it.“

With repeated exposure to machine-learning models, Adewale Abodurin, a software developer living in an urbane part of Lagos, has come to understand how algorithms function. “When we train an algorithm for suggesting content,” Abodurin says, “we feed it data: likes, comments, shares, and watch time. It learns what works over time. The twist is, it doesn’t possess a moral compass. It doesn’t distinguish truth from falsehood; it recognises only performance.”

Although Abodunrin contends that technology engineers face pressure to meet corporate goals such as ad revenue and user growth, he acknowledges that there is growing demand for moral design.

“We need to create friction, not engagement,” he says. “Maybe the algorithm can serve up content that’s been vetted, or suppress unvetted posts in elections. It’s not about what we can make but what we should make.“

Nigerian politicians are rather adept at manipulating algorithmic trends. Sponsored tweets, bot accounts, and troll mobs are used to artificially make something trending and drown out opposition. 

During the #EndSARS protests in 2020, young Nigerians used Twitter to channel their frustrations at police brutality in the country and bring the authorities to account. But shortly afterwards, counter-narratives were flooding the networks, some of which were later discovered to be perpetuated by bots.

“Algorithms helped us mobilise,” says Ifeoma Chima, an #EndSARS organiser. “But it  also cut us down. They let misinformation and disinformation travel farther. It was a double-edged sword.”

Outside the political arena, social media algorithms have a broader reach with health, identity, and societal norms implications. During the COVID-19 pandemic, vaccination myths and virus conspiracy theories were disseminated in an instant through Nigerian WhatsApp groups and Facebook pages.

“Where institutional trust is low to start with,” Uzochukwu says, “misinformation kills. The algorithm does not fact-check, but it amplifies. So when one trending post tells us garlic will cure COVID-19, it spreads faster than a WHO advisory ever could.”

Instagram’s algorithm prioritises filtered visuals at the expense of mental well-being and self-worth.

“Individuals start comparing themselves to trends and likes,” says Abodunrin. “What we require is emotional resilience and online literacy, not improved code.”

Experts indicate that awareness and regulation of algorithms are needed. Nigeria has experimented with regulation in the past but expressed it in strict censorship, like the 2021  Twitter ban.

“We need intelligent regulation, not broad censorship,” argues Adeyemi. “Call for algorithm development transparency, fund fact-checking initiatives, and promote local digital literacy.” 

Tech giants such as Meta, Google, and TikTok have local presence in Nigeria, but the critics argue that they are only reactive, not proactive, in taking down hate content.

“Nigerians have the right to know how content is being curated,” Uzochukwu continues. “Make users see why they’re seeing certain posts. Give them control to opt out of algorithmic timelines. That’s what democratic technology is.”

As social media becomes the hegemonic platform for discourse, activism, and influence, the call for algorithmic accountability has never been greater.

“We have to keep in mind,” Abodurin says, “that these systems are not gods. They’re tools. And tools are there to serve the people, not to manipulate them.”