Will Nigeria survive? I am beginning to have my doubts, and here are 10 reasons for it.
Will Nigeria survive? I am beginning to have my doubts, and here are 10 reasons for it.
googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display('content1'); });
One: We seem to be growing increasingly nervous and divided. We seem to be unsure of who we are, who we want to be, and where we are going.
Last month, for instance, Nigeria returned to the United Nations at the highest level. The UN listed the Nigerian leader as “President and Commander in Chief of the Nigerian Armed Forces.”
Leaders of presidential democracies are usually listed simply as “President,” and so should Nigeria. Our 1999 constitution states, “The President shall be the Head of State, the Chief Executive of the Federation and Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of the Federation.”
In other words, the moment a Nigerian is the “President,” his profile is that of the Head of State, the Chief Executive of the Federation and Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of the Federation.
That Nigerian protocol continues to append the superfluous phrase of Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces tells the story of how much our democracy has failed to mature. If a Nigerian leader must remind the world he commands the armed forces, does he, really?
Take Ghana and the United States, for instance, nations that have constitutions similar to ours. When the Ghanaian leader spoke to the United Nations General Assembly on 24 September 2009, he spoke as “John Evans Atta Mills, President of Ghana.” On 23 September 2010, Mr. Barack Obama was presented simply as “President of the United States of America.”
On September 24, when Mr. Jonathan spoke, two weeks after he carried out a wholesale replacement of all the service chiefs in something of a pre-emptive or reverse coup d’etat, he was “President and Commander in Chief of the Nigerian Armed Forces.” I thought that was interesting because he is supposed to be the President of Nigeria, not of the armed forces. It is a rather nervous democracy.
Two: We suffer a dearth of statesmen, former leaders who enjoy credibility and respect for their commitment to the national interest. Elsewhere, it is such leaders who, especially when things seem to be going poorly, rally the conscience and consciousness of society. In Nigeria, there is no such voice; most former national leaders hide behind the tallest fences and barricades and bodyguards, afraid of the terrible legacy they left behind. Hardly any of our surviving “leaders” is confident enough to walk a Nigerian street, but it is even more telling that the one who has betrayed the nation most, Ibrahim Babangida, who should be in jail, now wants to lead her again.
Three: Our ethical deficit. Nations are raised and run by people who are committed to the cause of that entity. Not Nigeria. We are run by a rapacious, ravenous greed that seems to have come straight out of hell.
This greed is so overwhelming, so blinding and insatiable it recognizes no corporate interest. It asks only one question: “What is in for me?” This greed is the foundation and the manure of the corruption that now defines our country and the impunity that fuels it. It bathes our prospects and destiny in uncertainty.
Last week, Mrs. Cecilia Ibru, a frontline banker, was sent to 18 months in jail by a court which also stripped her of an amazing 199 properties and funds totaling over N190 billion. How does one person own or manage 199 properties? But that is the issue before many Nigerians who call themselves rich without any true investment.
Four: We lack national institutions that can be trusted to provide unimpeachable service. Most of our institutions lack credibility and consistency, and are often found to be compromised either in time or place. Only last Friday, for instance, the Ekiti Electoral Tribunal declared Kayode Fayemi the winner of the 2007 gubernatorial contest in Ekiti State.
That was nearly four years after the election actually took place. It was the right call, but it brought the sordid character of our so-called Independent National Electoral Commission back to the limelight, as it did that of the judiciary itself. But think about it: in a country as corrupt as Nigeria, the so-called anti-corruption institutions are no more successful in fighting corruption than is the Federal Road Safety Commission. Yes, you are right: it is not the business of the FRSC to fight corruption. Its business is road safety, where the FRSC cannot claim any championships.
Five: The mass media needs to be trusted to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. On the contrary, what we currently have is a mass media that tells the truth either sporadically, or by accident. This is not difficult to understand: Nigeria is overwhelmed by publishers whose commitment is not to journalism, but to power and wealth. And they often hire hunters and artisans (masquerading as journalists), to ensure the success of their hunt. Those are the ones who write or edit the atrocious stories that abound in today’s press, and have no sense of history. Still, at the end of the year, prize-distribution bodies crown “great” journalists, and with no sense of irony at all.
Six: Two-faced religious leaders. Do our well-advertised religious leaders who feast on the gullibility of the average Nigerian really worship God? If so, is it possible to worship God while ignoring the oppressed? Before their very eyes, our political leadership continues to betray the nation and its people. Why is it that few religious leaders cry out about this in public? Why do they openly mingle with these filthy leaders as if all was well?
Seven: Two-faced political leaders. These are particularly dangerous because they seem to hear voices in their heads all the time. In the past week or two, we have had people like Atiku Abubakar, Adamu Ciroma and Ibrahim Babangida (IBB) criticize *President Jonathan, some of them telling him he is unfit to govern and that he should resign, or else.
We have had people like former Senate President Ken Nnamani, a man I once praised as being patriotic and principled emerge as a disciple of IBB.
We have people like *President Jonathan, who warned last August “very soon [Nigeria] will collapse” unless it turned back from its evil ways and “took the right steps,” but who are simply sitting on the throne, enjoying the game. The same Jonathan has not apologized for his scandalous 2010 National Honours List, or shown any of the urgency necessary to pull his nation from the brink of collapse.
And think of the People’s Democratic Party, where a presidential hopeful has to buy an “intent” form for N10 million. That is moneybag democracy that, for a party with “Democracy” in its name, clearly clarifies that the search is not for talent, patriotism, character or ability. “Buy It,” ought to be the motto of that party.
Eight: Alienated and alien-sounding citizenry. Nigerians largely behave as if Nigeria will right itself. We permit the worst citizens easy passage to power and wealth, and then we begin to worship them. We do not challenge the wealth they possess; sometimes, we do not challenge them at all. We are often prepared to abandon every semblance of principle when the rogue is one of “ours.”
As part of this question of this national character, we have the youth question. Students used to be our gauge of the future, reminding us of our bigger hopes and deeper dreams, challenging us to lift up our weak, poor and downtrodden. Today’s student, alas, may be the best measure of our collapse.
Nine: An era of assassinations, kidnappings, religious militancy, armed robbery and bombings. At no point in our history, except for the period of the civil war, has any Nigerian felt as insecure in any part of the country as at the moment. This ought to be a national emergency, but it is not; instead, the battle for political power is the unspoken national emergency.
Ten: the myth of governance. Regrettably, there is no bigger rumour or farce than the notion of Nigerian governance. Perceptive “Andrew” checked out, remember? We drank Akinloye champagne, but then tried to crate Umaru Dikko to get him back here. Over $12 billion Gulf War Oil money vanished, as did the Pius Okigbo Report on it. Andy Uba used the presidential jet to brag to his mistress, but Obasanjo forgave him when he spent some of the laundered money buying fertilizer for Temperance Farms. Alams, in a foreign cesspit, recast himself as Cinderella to return to the party.
Governance? Rebrand the thought! Shut down Abuja, Madam is coming!
• [email protected]
googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display('comments'); });
googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display('content2'); });