It must have been some weeks ago that one of the regular columnists for ‘This Day’ newspapers published a piece on corruption among the political class in Nigeria. Considering the reality of the issue and the myriad of daily articles on it a discourse like that should not be news to anybody. What was striking was that a week after that article was published, the columnist followed up by publishing a rejoinder.
This rejoinder sent in by someone whom I suppose is a politician, sought to highlight the lopsidedness in the anti-corruption campaign. According to him/her, civil servants were just as guilty if not more in the pilfering of our commonwealth and even worse, were the chief recruiters or converters of hitherto incorrupt politicians. The underlying motif of the fellow’s rejoinder was the heavy-handed pursuit of politicians in the anti-corruption fight: and the near neglect of, or lack of focus on, other possibly corrupt members of the public workspace. I thought it was a fascinating piece. Not because the points made were counter-intuitive but because a representation of such supposedly obvious facts had been previously largely overlooked.
Buried in this back and forth analogies and several other discourses on corruption is the failure to call, appreciate and handle this thing for what it truly is—stealing. Public and private stealing has since become endemic in our socio-economic fabric and has gradually become a part of our norm and culture. This social ‘non-value’ finds expression in that oft-quoted and abused phrase “na where person dey work, na there him for dey chop”. In a bid for crass enrichment, thieving elements employed in both public and private enterprises resort to all sorts of gimmicks to make a fast buck. The near absence, and in some cases, misplacement of the rule of law (apologies to the EFCC, ICPC and others) provides a leeway for these thieves in our midst.
In the recent past, we have seen or read several cases of stealing from within the public sphere but unknown to many, privately employed citizens are almost equally involved in this thieving business. But they – these privately employed – have largely evaded scrutiny because unlike the treatment meted out to their public counterparts, their own linens are washed in private. The case for the scrutiny of our private enterprise employees was brought home very recently by a phone call my wife received from Nigeria and the unfolding story thereafter.
My sister-in-law, who I would simply refer to as Mrs. O., opened a current account with First Bank PLC (Industrial Estate, Oba Akran Avenue Branch) many years ago. A couple of years ago, about the time the Soludo bank consolidation exercise was rounding up, some of the emerging banks got caught by the ATM machine bug as the next step in their bid to better serve customers. First Bank, not wanting to be left out of this new craze of driving customer satisfaction, jumped on the bandwagon.
Essentially, customers were requested to make ATM withdrawals up to specific limits (N60,000.00 per day in the case of First Bank) from the ATM machines. They could also enjoy the benefits of making purchases at designated ‘points of sales’ simply by swiping their ATM cards at the checkout center under a cashless system. As obtains in more developed nations were this system had been in practice, every ATM card and the holder is given a PIN which can be changed confidentially at the behest of the customer. Like most First Bank current account holders, Mrs. O. was issued an ATM card to avail her of these benefits. Or so it seemed.
She made a transaction on her account on April 6, leaving a balance of N1,274,036.85. On April 20 this year, she attempted to make a regular withdrawal from her current account using her ATM card only to find that she had a balance of N636.85. Within 8 days, she had been robbed of a whopping sum in excess of N1.2 million: not at gun point but from her own current account with First Bank. After pursuing inquiries, she was told that she had made several withdrawals totaling N1,273,400.00. Mrs. O. was told that on April 9 she made 16 withdrawals totaling N312,600.00; on April 14, she withdrew 39 times a gross sum of N756,900.00; and finally on April 15 she made 12 withdrawals totaling N223,100.00. She has since denied this claim vehemently and requested that her account be credited back with her money. First Bank has remained adamant in their claim of non-liability for the stolen funds. On her part, Mrs. O. is presently pursuing all avenues to obtain relief in this matter. Bringing this issue to the public space to create awareness and provide a forum for other (maybe timid) victims is one of such.
Considering the maximum withdrawal limit First Bank has in place, this development becomes even more bizarre. It is completely absurd that First Bank cannot see the folly in their position. How is it possible that they are unable to provide an audit trail of these transactions and show without a doubt that Mrs. O. has stolen from herself? In more reasonable climes, the U.S. for example, banks are immediately liable to refund moneys to customers based on such claims or in many instances based on purchase cancellations. The banks do this while pursuing further investigation because they and only they possess the mechanism and were-withal to investigate. The customer is completely helpless in such circumstances. At the very least, First Bank could have set aside the value of the disputed funds into an escrow or suspense account that is untouchable by either party while the investigation continues. Such an act would no doubt provide some comfort for a badly bruised and grieving customer while availing the bank time to get to the bottom of the matter.
Credit and ATM card fraud cases are common place in most developed nations and most of us know that. In 2006, because of the several losses incurred from cards fraud by the big brands – Visa, MasterCard, American Express, Discover and JCB International, these notable competitors came together to create a council charged with the function of providing uniform security rules for merchants.
Mrs. O.’s case is a clear cut one of insider theft and if First Bank continues to refuse to do the needful, then it would be timely to put their customers, and indeed all Nigerians, on notice. It may also be apt to begin a sensitization exercise to draw attention to the probable ineptitude or at the extreme, culpability of their executive management in this thieving exercise. Nigerians may be passive in claiming their rights concerning public funds thievery because of the remote connection between them and the oil wells from which public resources are tapped. But a case of bank ‘pen robbery’ would not be so easily condoned. We won’t just sit by and watch innocent citizens get bankrupted by elements in First Bank who are desperate to line their pockets with ill gotten wealth. Nigerians are watching.
UYI LAWANI
Research Fellow
University of North Texas, Texas, USA
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