Culture Vs Currency: Nigeria's War On Spraying Rituals

In a country known for its rich cultural traditions and vibrant social gatherings, few practices are as iconic as “spraying” money. At weddings, birthdays, and other festive events, guests often toss naira notes onto dancers or celebrants as a sign of joy, honour, and generosity. But in 2025, this centuries-old custom has come under fire from Nigerian authorities who now see it as a threat to national economic stability.

With the naira having lost 70% of its value over the past two years, the government is cracking down on public cash displays, equating the flamboyant ritual to economic sabotage. Arrests are rising, jail sentences are being handed down, and the country’s anti-corruption agency has vowed to continue pursuing offenders. The message is clear: the era of dancing with cash is over—or at least, it’s being criminalised.

Spraying: A Cultural Mainstay

To understand the controversy, one must first understand the custom. Spraying is a form of ceremonial gift-giving where guests publicly shower celebrants with money—usually in the form of crisp naira notes placed gently on their foreheads or scattered around them as they dance. It is especially popular among Yoruba communities but has long since transcended ethnic boundaries.

For many Nigerians, spraying is not just tradition—it is a form of community solidarity. It funds local musicians and dancers, supports informal workers in the events sector, and affirms social ties. “It’s how we show love and support. It’s cultural, not criminal,” says Toyin Bakare, an event planner in Lagos. “Trying to erase spraying is like telling Nigerians not to dance at weddings.”

Why the Government Is Cracking Down

The Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) sees it differently. In a year marked by currency turmoil, with the exchange rate surpassing 1,600 naira to the US dollar, officials argue that cash spraying erodes respect for the national currency and encourages waste, counterfeiting, and black-market activity. The CBN and other agencies claim that public defacement of money sends the wrong message at a time when the country is urging citizens to treat the naira with dignity.

The crackdown is part of a broader effort to enforce financial discipline and formalise cash flows. Authorities have launched public awareness campaigns and intensified policing at major social venues. “Abusing the naira in the name of culture will not be tolerated,” said a spokesperson for the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC). “Our currency is not a party prop.”

Enforcement Escalates

Using provisions in the Central Bank Act and various financial crimes statutes, enforcement agencies are arresting individuals caught on camera spraying or trampling on money. Penalties can include fines or imprisonment of up to six months.

Several high-profile cases have drawn national attention. In one instance, a well-known musician was detained after spraying bundles of naira at a Lagos nightclub. In another, a popular social media influencer was sentenced to community service and forced to publicly apologise after her extravagant cash spraying went viral.

Critics argue that enforcement has been inconsistent and, at times, performative. “They go after celebrities to make a point, but ignore systemic issues like money laundering and illegal forex trading,” says a lawyer representing one of the accused.

Cultural Resistance and Public Backlash

The crackdown has not gone unchallenged. Cultural leaders, civil society groups, and ordinary Nigerians have criticised the policy as tone-deaf and heavy-handed. “This is not the solution to currency devaluation,” says Adewale Adeniran, a sociologist at the University of Ibadan. “You can’t police your way out of an economic crisis.”

Many see the move as a symbolic gesture that fails to address deeper fiscal mismanagement, inflationary pressures, or the structural problems behind the naira’s decline. “People spray because they have something to celebrate,” says Bakare. “It doesn’t cause inflation. The government should look at its own spending.”

Even among those who accept the need for greater monetary discipline, there is concern that the clampdown targets visible displays of cultural identity while ignoring opaque forms of capital flight or elite corruption.

The Bigger Picture

The spraying ban is unfolding in a broader context of economic fragility. Nigeria, Africa’s largest economy by GDP, has suffered from declining oil revenues, stubborn inflation, and growing debt-service burdens. In this environment, the naira’s value has been in freefall, forcing the central bank to introduce capital controls and appeal for foreign investment.

Some economists argue that the focus on cultural practices is a distraction. “Spraying is symbolic. It’s visible. But the real threats to currency stability are elsewhere—external shocks, policy inconsistencies, and the lack of confidence in the financial system,” says Dr. Tunde Oladele, a financial analyst based in Abuja.

At the same time, the informal economy—which includes weddings, funerals, and other life events—remains one of the largest cash users in the country. By clamping down on these settings without offering digital alternatives or cultural sensitivity, the government risks alienating communities and pushing transactions further underground.

Conclusion: Between Reform and Repression

As Nigeria’s government seeks to stabilise its currency and enforce monetary discipline, it faces a complex challenge: how to balance necessary reform with respect for cultural expression. The spraying of naira notes may be a conspicuous target, but for many citizens, it is also a vital part of their social fabric.

Whether the crackdown succeeds in protecting the naira remains uncertain. What is clear is that the debate over spraying has become a proxy for broader frustrations—about economic insecurity, state overreach, and the role of culture in modern governance.

For now, Nigerians must decide whether celebration can continue without the flutter of cash in the air—or whether joy itself is being quietly priced out.

Author: Brett Hurll