On Friday, May 23rd, shareholders of JBS S.A.—the world’s largest meat processor—voted to approve a dual listing of its shares on the New York Stock Exchange (NYSE) and Brazil’s B3. While this may appear to be just another corporate financial move, the implications are far-reaching. For Nigeria, this decision is not abstract. It hits home—and hard.
Late last year, JBS signed a memorandum of understanding with the Nigerian government to invest $2.5 billion in constructing six large-scale industrial farms across the country. The plan includes three poultry operations, two beef facilities, and one for pork. Framed as a milestone investment in food production and rural development, the deal has received little public scrutiny. Yet, it deserves far more—because beneath the surface lies a model that could radically reshape, and potentially undermine, our food systems.
As a food systems expert working across Nigeria, I have seen firsthand the delicate balance rural communities strike between productivity, sustainability, and culture. Nigeria’s agriculture sector is dominated by smallholder farmers who produce the majority of the food we consume, using traditional, mixed-farming methods that are ecologically sound and rooted in local knowledge. The entry of a multinational giant like JBS threatens to upend this balance.
JBS’s global track record is deeply troubling. Multiple investigations—such as those by World Animal and The Guardian —have linked the company to illegal deforestation, human rights violations, tax evasion, and environmental degradation in Brazil and other countries. In 2020 alone, JBS was fined by Brazilian authorities for sourcing cattle from illegally deforested lands. The company has also faced scrutiny for contributing to water pollution and air contamination near its processing plants in the U.S. and Latin America.
If this is the kind of industrial model coming to Nigeria, we must ask: at what cost?
Factory farming—the intensive, industrialised production of livestock—may increase output, but it also externalises massive environmental and social costs. It concentrates control of food production in the hands of a few corporations, marginalising smallholders. It places immense pressure on land, water, and feed resources. It also contributes to antimicrobial resistance through the routine use of antibiotics and poses public health risks through increased waste and pollution.
Consider the implications for Nigerian farmers. In Niger and Kaduna states, pastoralist and mixed-farming communities already struggle with limited access to markets, veterinary services, and climate resilience tools. The entrance of subsidized industrial meat could crowd out these local producers, pushing them further into poverty. In the absence of strong safeguards, such projects risk entrenching inequality and dependency rather than fostering real development.
Moreover, Nigeria’s existing environmental regulations—though well-crafted—are often poorly enforced. A $2.5 billion project of this scale demands rigorous oversight. Where will the land for these farms come from? What environmental impact assessments have been conducted? What mechanisms exist to ensure transparency, community consultation, and long-term accountability?
These are not anti-investment questions. They are pro-accountability questions.
Nigeria urgently needs investment in agriculture, but we must distinguish between investment that builds local capacity and investment that extracts value without reinvestment. True food security cannot be outsourced to multinationals. It must be built from the ground up—by empowering Nigerian farmers, investing in agroecology, and protecting our biodiversity.
JBS’s dual listing now grants the company greater access to U.S. capital markets. It signals a green light for aggressive global expansion. If Nigeria becomes one of its next frontiers, we must be vigilant. Civil society, the media, researchers, and policymakers must demand transparency from both JBS and our government. This is not just about economics—it’s about sovereignty.
We still have time to ask the right questions. To demand clear answers. To insist that development does not come at the expense of our environment, health, or local livelihoods.
The time to act is now. Because once the land is cleared, once the rivers are polluted, and once local farmers are driven out of business, it will be far harder to reclaim what we will have lost.
The writer is the founder of Youth in Agroecology and Restoration Network (YARN), a movement of youth-led initiatives across Africa, India, and Brazil, leveraging awareness of agroecology and capacity-building for agrifood systems transformation. Email: [email protected]
