Bribery, corruption, and lawlessness—these
are universal indicators of social malady. Where Nigeria ranks in the global
scale of these indicators is not news anymore; however, let me take the liberty
of refreshing your memory. According to independent watchdog group Transparency
International, last year’s corruption index for Nigeria is 2.2. The
significance of this number is that Nigeria is the 10th most corrupt nation in the world, way
below many other African nations.
The evidence that these vices
stubbornly threaten the very fabric of our nation abound. Yet, Nigerians are
not outraged. In a show of blind patriotism, many of us dismiss these numbers
as a conjecture of Western opinion. In fact, many Nigerians have been
conditioned to believe that these statistics point to Western conspiracy and
bias. I am not going to explore this aspect of the argument; it is a worry for
another day.
I write this article in light
of the recent fight against corruption, which the government claims to have
stepped up a notch. On the surface, it seems that corruption in Nigeria has
received the overdue attention it deserves. According to the mission statement
of EFCC, the commission will “curb the menace of corruption…and imbue the
spirit of hard work in the citizenry.” This is a lofty and commendable mission.
The commission intends to achieve this goal by holding public officers
accountable for misappropriation of funds and money laundering. Way to go,
EFCC.
Another arm of the government
that has done remarkably well with the fight against corruption is the
judiciary. To their credit, it is promising that the judiciary is going back to
its days of glory, when judges were perceived as incorruptible. Or, at least to
when the rule of law prevailed. To these two agencies I say, more grease to
their elbows. Finally, there seems to be light at the end of the tunnel.
I do not intend to diminish the
efforts of these agencies. But as a concerned citizen, I am worried that all
these efforts may not be addressing the root of corruption in Nigeria. If you take
a minute to think about it, these efforts are all reactionary, and are
supportive of the notion that punishment is a deterrent to crime. If this
notion holds true, then what about the enduring argument against the death
penalty? What about the fact that homicide rates are lowest in countries
without the death penalty? How is it that Switzerland, a country without a
standing army or stiff penalties, is the least corrupt nation in the world? The
point I am trying to make is that a society cannot punish its way to
accountability and prosperity by imposing only legal verdicts. Punishments by
courts of law and commissions like the EFCC will be very effective if they are
accompanied by some sort of social reprisals. We collectively sabotage the
impact of these punishments if those punished come out to heroic welcomes and
loud ovations—where is the outrage?
The fact that we make heroes of
those who enriched themselves by misappropriating public funds points to a
severe moral void. In case we have forgotten, Nigeria started this downward
spiral, not because of lack of punishment by courts of law, but because of a
complete breakdown in moral values. By moral values, I do not mean the
subversion of what we were taught in our catechism classes. Rather, by moral values,
I mean a sense of right and wrong that compels us to evaluate the impact of our
actions on others. I also mean a sense of duty and compassion on the less
privileged in Nigeria. It has often been said that the true spirit of any
nation reflects on how they treat the poor and the less privileged.
If this is true, then achieving
a better Nigeria is a moral problem. It can only be solved when Nigerians as
individuals become compassionate. For instance, of all the money that our
politicians cart away to foreign banks, I have yet to hear of active
foundations and organizations which they start to help the less privileged
people among us. The absence of such altruistic ventures is a testimony to the
wickedness of our politicians and also a testimony to what they do in office.
If I may return to the issue of
legal punishments, understandably, it is indispensable as a corrective and
restorative measure; however, it can only bring us halfway through the
struggle. I say this because of the way it has been applied so far.
The focus has been on
politicians. However, the task of achieving a better Nigeria is not exclusive.
It is inclusive of doctors who knowingly misdiagnose their patience just to
make more money; teachers and professors who seek monetary or sexual favors to give
better grades to their students; business people who sell defective products
that sometimes cause death and injuries. As these practices can be part of the
trades of these professionals, so is politics the trade of a politician. It is
morally imperative that these people be held as accountable as politicians and
should also be punished accordingly. The point I am trying to make is that a
society cannot punish its way to prosperity unless it is across the board. Even
so, history has revealed that the prosperity of any nation pars with its moral
values. The reason is because sound moral values makes a society see beyond the
splotch of self-interest, and it is preventive, not corrective.
Hamilton Odunze
Boston, Massachusetts
