TD Are we angry enough as Nigerians to collectively acknowledge that corruption and its Siamese twin, impunity, have dealt a devastating blow to us as a nation? Or have we become so accustomed to both, such that outrage has given way to resignation?
Could it be that our priorities are shifting? As the world becomes increasingly competitive and the struggle to survive grows more intense, has institutionalised personal survival become a danger to collective well-being?
Perhaps we have quietly embraced the Machiavellian mantra that “the end justifies the means,” where achieving the desired outcome matters more than the principles or methods employed, or the long-term preservation of the public good
If this is indeed the case, then corruption is no longer merely a problem of a few individuals exploiting the system.
It becomes a reflection of society in which the boundaries between right and wrong are increasingly blurred, and where impunity thrives because too many people have accepted it, benefited from it, or simply lost the will to challenge it.
From public offices to negotiation tables and polling units on election day, Nigerians re-echo their desire to have a share of the so-called “national cake.”
Unfortunately, only very few are prepared to talk about how to contribute the ingredients needed to bake it.
A decade ago, Stephen Ellis demonstrated in his book, This Present Darkness, that the history of corruption in Nigeria preceded its independence. The scale of the malaise has since grown with the country’s revenues and population. So, it appears, has tolerance for it, or resignation to it.
One of the major reasons cited for the military coup and subsequent takeover of government in January 1966 was the widespread allegations of corruption and abuse of office during the First Republic.
Nearly a decade after, in July 1975, the regime of Gen. Yakubu Gowon was overthrown because the level of graft became worse with the onset of the Oil Boom.
More than two decades later, during the regime of Gen. Ibrahim Babangida between 1985 and 1993, Nigeria experienced a significant increase in oil revenues following the 1991 Gulf War. It was estimated that the country generated oil revenue of US$12.4 billion, which went unaccounted for.
The country was still grappling with the consequences of financial mismanagement when Gen. Sani Abacha seized power in 1993 from the Ernest Shonekan Interim civilian administration.
The Abacha years became synonymous with large-scale plundering. The UN Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC) estimates that he stole the equivalent of 2%-3% of Nigeria’s GDP in each of the four and a half years that he was in power.
Investigations of his regime have led to the recovery of some of the looted funds both within and outside Nigeria, while efforts to recover additional funds continue.
Given the painful experiences and the opportunities lost as a result of the diversion of public resources, conventional wisdom would have compelled Nigerians to reject corruption in all its forms and collectively protect the national treasury.
But instead of developing a stronger resistance, there are justifications for it, with more people being recruited into the culture and normalising practices that should ordinarily attract public condemnation.
The country has not only normalised corruption and impunity for it; ethnic and political groups have instituted competitive narratives to make corruption a natural ally of the capture and sustenance of political power.
Since Nigeria returned to civilian rule in 1999, this dangerous trend has grown with successive administrations and arguably found its apotheosis under the present dispensation.
The unholy relationship between impunity for corruption and political competition deserves closer attention. Since 1999, elections and the recruitment of political leadership have been characterised by a high degree of corruption, ethnocentrism and religious persuasion.
The beneficiaries of each administration are often directly linked to the same ethnicity as the person at the helm of affairs. Some of those who share the same religious or social affinity with the leader also identify with and benefit from the administrations.
Some even engage in hero worship by copying the dress code or emblem of the political leaders.
Unfazed by the backlash, many Nigerians no longer view corruption through the lens of accountability, transparency and fiscal responsibility. Instead, it is seen through the prism of competitive ethnicity or religious identity.
When a politically exposed person from one ethnic or religious group faces allegations of corruption requiring scrutiny or accountability, the strength of the evidence no longer matters.
Whenever people are charged with corruption, attention quickly shifts to their ethnic and religious groups. The question is no longer whether the allegations are sustainable on the available evidence. Thus, corruption has become a tool for the capture of political power.
Senator Adams Oshiomhole, a former State governor and ex-National Chairman of the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC), is on record as having told defectors at the party’s rally in 2019 that once they joined the APC, their sins would be forgiven.
Last August, the APC released the list of members of its 2027 Presidential Campaign Council. Interestingly, the list contains the names of some suspects who have pending cases with the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC).
One could be forgiven for thinking that having a pending corruption allegation is a basic qualification for membership of the council.
Nigerians are waiting for other political parties to release their own campaign council lists to see if the apparent “federal character” of individuals facing corruption allegations is unique to the APC or cuts across the political parties.
Nigeria’s key sectors are characterised by optimal dysfunction, with citizens constantly complaining about poor public services and corruption.
The 2027 general elections present another opportunity to correct critical leadership failures that continue to feed corruption and bad governance in Africa’s most populous nation.
It remains to be seen whether the electorate will continue to allow primordial sentiments and pecuniary interests to cloud their sense of judgment, or whether they will vote for candidates who are genuinely committed to ending impunity for corruption.
Also, the disposition of the candidates towards corruption, whistleblowing, accountability, fiscal responsibility, and transparency will be tested. What the voters think of the candidates’ track records will also be crucial.
If the electorate fails to organise and critically interrogate the candidates, their programmes, and their manifestos, and ultimately makes the wrong electoral choices, corruption, bad governance, and impunity will strangle the country.
A word is enough for the wise, or in Igbo cosmology, “A dighi agwa ochi ntị na agha esu.” – the deaf require no warning that war has started.
Dr. Obiabunmuo is Programmes Manager with Primorg.
