A routine attempt to send an iPhone 17 Pro Max to Nigeria has spiralled into a major talking point among Nigerians worldwide, after an X user, @IleriOluwa, narrated how his package became trapped in a maze involving Customs, NDLEA, DSS and sudden duty hikes that pushed the total bill to more than ₦800,000.

The post has ignited outrage across social media, with many Nigerians at home and abroad sharing similar horror stories that paint a troubling picture of the country’s import-clearance system.

According to the sender, the phone left abroad smoothly, but everything changed once it landed in Nigeria. Customs initially demanded ₦212,000, which he paid, but soon after, NDLEA requested personal identification documents, including passport data pages for both sender and receiver, a handwritten relationship letter, and the purchase receipt. “It’s crazy for me to send it initially; I added my ID already,” he said, expressing disbelief at being asked repeatedly for information already provided to DHL. Even after NDLEA later withdrew its request, the situation worsened when DHL informed him that Customs had “undervalued” the shipment and reappraised the duty upward—this time requesting an additional ₦655,351.14, bringing the total cost to clearing the phone to more than ₦800,000. “Nigeria is hell man,” he wrote, summing up the emotional toll of the entire ordeal.

As his post circulated, Nigerians poured in with their own experiences. One user, Ishola, claimed that what happened to him in 2022 felt like a coordinated operation involving multiple actors. “Both DHL and Customs are terrible,” he said. “You will still get a call from someone asking you to pay less for a quick release. It’s a racket that both DHL and Customs are involved in.” His comment reflected a view shared by many that the system is intentionally designed to frustrate and financially drain innocent senders.

Another commenter, Abidemi Babaolowo, advised taking a different approach entirely. “Ask DHL to return your phone back to you. It will cost less than ₦600k for them to return it,” he wrote. He suggested that during festive seasons, Nigerians in the diaspora should simply send items through trusted travellers rather than formal courier companies. His tone reflected resignation — a sense that Nigerians have now normalised avoiding official channels because they have become too unpredictable.

One of the most detailed testimonies came from Winnie, who described similar experiences involving multiple iPhone shipments. She explained how her brother had sent her phones over the years, each attracting rising and inconsistent clearance fees. What began as ₦69,000 for two phones in 2022 later grew to more than ₦235,000 for just one shipment, followed by a shocking notification that she still had “over ₦300,000 balance” to pay. “Everything was looking like a rip-off,” she recalled. After taking her complaint public on social media, DHL representatives reached out, apologised and eventually reduced the charges. “Something that usually takes two days took over 10 days,” she added, describing the frustration and delays that many Nigerians abroad now fear.

A different perspective came from Ishi, who encouraged Nigerians abroad to stop tolerating such treatment. “Sue DHL from where you sent the package and claim your damages,” he insisted, suggesting that people should leverage the legal protections available in the countries from which they ship. Others, however, dismissed this approach as unrealistic, given the complexities of international logistics and the power imbalance between individuals and large corporations.

Meanwhile, some Nigerians blamed fellow citizens for enabling the system. Ivi Ryan expressed anger at people criticising the sender instead of the authorities. “Instead of calling the authorities out, you people are suggesting and bashing why he used certain companies. Shame,” he said. His frustration mirrored the growing sentiment that Nigeria’s bureaucracy has become so burdensome that citizens now advise one another to avoid the system rather than demand accountability.

Commenters like Engr. J.K. Imisioluwa argued that the issue goes far beyond individual inconveniences. “This unnecessary extortion is crazy,” he wrote. “How will we have the confidence to trade internationally when our profits would be eaten under the guise that we undervalue products?” Tagging government agencies, he warned that such practices are “killing trade” and damaging Nigeria’s reputation.

Others shared stories even more alarming. Valar Morghulis recounted how DHL once asked him to pay ₦1.8 million to clear two iPhones before negotiation brought the cost down to ₦600,000. “Nigeria is a crime scene walai,” he said bluntly. Another user, Vivi, said she spent nearly ₦400,000 clearing a single device and was shocked by the involvement of both DSS and NDLEA. “I was wandering the involvement of DSS & NDLEA,” she said, calling the experience exhausting and unnecessary.

The comment section became a catalogue of grievances: laptops held for weeks, duties that doubled overnight, allegations of “settlements” paid to unnamed individuals, and constant references to Customs, NDLEA, DSS and even police officers being involved. One commenter, Thorpe, summarised it starkly: “Almost all government agents work in DHL Nigeria. Don’t be shocked if they say Immigration is holding it sef.”

In the midst of the chaos, Nobleman Okey introduced a legal angle that many readers found surprising. He pointed out that the Court of Appeal, in the case of Chikasolu v. Nigeria Customs, had reportedly declared the collection of duties on personal items like mobile phones unlawful and ordered Customs to refund such charges. If fully applicable, this raises serious questions about the validity of the charges imposed in many of the stories shared.

The uproar around @IleriOluwa’s post has once again highlighted concerns long expressed by Nigerians abroad: sending goods home should not feel like a gamble. Yet many say it now does. The uncertainty, the unexpected charges, the involvement of multiple security agencies, and the emotional stress all contribute to a deepening distrust in Nigeria’s trade and logistics ecosystem. For families trying to send personal items, gifts or essential devices back home, the process has become one of anxiety and dread.

What should have been a simple gesture — sending a phone to a loved one — has evolved into a symbol of Nigeria’s complex bureaucratic challenges. Until clearer regulations, transparent processes and reduced agency overlaps become the norm, diaspora Nigerians fear that more such stories will emerge, each one reinforcing the question many are now asking: Why does something so simple have to be so difficult in Nigeria?