IN AN industrial park in Niamey, the capital of Niger, unemployed men rest in the shade from thirst-inducing heat. Warehouses gather dust. But there is a buzz around the country’s only brewery. Steam billows from 50-year-old copper cauldrons, and bottles rattle off the conveyor belt before they are stamped with a label bearing two giraffes and the words: “Bière Niger”.

Not many people associate Niger, which is mostly Muslim, with beer. The brewery, Braniger, was founded in 1967, seven years after Niger’s independence from France. Its turbulent history says much about the fragility of Niger’s economy. In the 1990s the regional currency, the CFA franc, was devalued by about half, driving up the cost of the imported raw materials. Instead of raising prices, Bière Niger shrank its bottles by a third.

The brewery, part of Castel Group, a French family firm, survived the crisis but has again lost its fizz. Xavier de Boisset, Braniger’s director, says that it is the only one of Castel’s 67 African breweries that is losing money. One reason is its tax bill, which it says has gone up about 20% over the past five years. Others are geography and corruption. Since Niger is landlocked, its imports of malt and barley have to come overland. Import taxes, as well as unofficial ones extracted at checkpoints, lead to delays and drive up costs.

Although the economy is expanding and the population is booming, demand is doing neither. This is perhaps because Nigériens are becoming more religious. “The marabouts (imams) say that Bière Niger is the devil’s drink,” says Karl Nienhaus, its technical director. Once-proud employees no longer tell people they work at the brewery.

A year ago Mr de Boisset was dispatched to close the brewery. Instead he hopes to save it by offering an even smaller, cheaper bottle. The pale, bittersweet lager will never win awards in Europe. But it washes down the dust rather well. When the mercury hits 42 °C, a small beer is better than none.