Globally, procurement integrity rests on competition, fairness, transparency, and enforceable ethical standards. Strong systems reduce corruption risks that typically inflate project costs by as much as 20-25%. Countries that publish comprehensive tender data and contract implementation details significantly reduce bribery and favoritism because non-transparent interactions between government officials and businesses are limited. Studies across regions consistently show that red flags such as single bidding, restricted procedures, or repeated contract awards to the same firms are reliable early warnings of corruption. Independent audits, enforceable ethical codes, and civil society oversight make these systems work.
Nigeria’s procurement system is often described as one of the country’s strongest governance frameworks on paper. It is cited in reform speeches, donor reports, and policy documents as a critical lever for public service delivery. Yet the reality is far less reassuring. Trillions of naira pass through public procurement every year, determining whether hospitals function, roads last, schools are completed, or power projects deliver electricity. Still, procurement remains the place where development intentions quietly die.
Globally, procurement integrity rests on competition, fairness, transparency, and enforceable ethical standards. Strong systems reduce corruption risks that typically inflate project costs by as much as 20-25%. Countries that publish comprehensive tender data and contract implementation details significantly reduce bribery and favoritism because non-transparent interactions between government officials and businesses are limited. Studies across regions consistently show that red flags such as single bidding, restricted procedures, or repeated contract awards to the same firms are reliable early warnings of corruption. Independent audits, enforceable ethical codes, and civil society oversight make these systems work.
Nigeria, however, tells a different story!
Despite the Public Procurement Act of 2007 and years of reform rhetoric, procurement-related fraud still accounts for an overwhelming share of reported corruption cases in the country. Recent analyses continue to show that procurement is where public funds are most easily diverted with the least consequences. This is not because laws are absent, but because critical enforcement mechanisms never fully materialized. E-tendering systems remain patchy or non-functional across many federal agencies and states. Civil society participation in oversight is weak and often informal or even political.
On paper, procurement processes promise transparency and efficiency. In practice, contract opportunities are routinely not published on time or at all. Bid documents are hard to access without insider connections. Funds are allocated for digital infrastructure, yet many ministries, departments, and agencies (MDAs) continue to rely on manual processes that encourage discretion and delay. These failures create fertile ground for inflated costs, abandoned projects, and quiet renegotiations that the public never sees.
Recent experiences highlight how deep this disconnect runs. In past years, civil society actors have used the Freedom of Information (FOI) Act to request procurement and expenditure records from MDAs. One response was startling. The Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) response to a FOI request showed that every kobo was spent exactly as budgeted, down to the last line item. On the surface, this appeared exemplary. But for accountability advocates, it raised red flags. In a system notorious for budget deviations, cost overruns, and last-minute procurement adjustments, such perfect alignment suggested reporting designed to satisfy compliance rather than reflect reality. Transparency, in this case, functioned as performance, not accountability.
Elsewhere in the Federal Capital Territory, citizens point to visible infrastructure projects delivered under the current administration as evidence that procurement is finally working. Roads are built. Interchanges are commissioned. Construction moves fast. Yet the same Minister overseeing these projects has consistently failed to respond to FOI requests on project costs, procurement processes, and contractor selection. This creates a dangerous narrative trap. Citizens are encouraged to equate visible infrastructure with good governance, while accountability is quietly dismissed as unnecessary or disruptive. What does it mean when development is delivered, but the public servant responsible does not see accountability to citizens as an obligation? Procurement integrity is not only about outputs. It is about whether public power remains answerable.
This tension is even more evident in the renewed rush to build airports across the country. Proposals and approvals for multi-billion naira aviation projects have multiplied, often in states with low passenger demand and weak economic justification. These projects absorb enormous public resources, serve narrow political interests, and crowd out investment in health, education, and rural infrastructure. Meanwhile, contractors working on essential but less glamorous projects report delayed payments, unclear contract variations, and exclusion from open contracting opportunities. Procurement becomes a tool for prestige projects, not public value.
Behind these headlines are human stories that rarely make the headlines. A contractor who has delivered several donor-funded projects described government procurement bluntly. It is not about capacity, he said. It is about access. Without someone inside the system, bids are not seriously reviewed. World Bank enterprise surveys and civil society audit data have echoed this pattern, documenting restricted competition, cartel-like behaviour, and political interference in contract awards.
Procurement officers themselves admit the system punishes integrity. Several officers interviewed privately explained that rejecting politically backed bids, even when they are clearly unrealistic, can stall careers or trigger disciplinary queries. Accepting them rarely carries consequences. As a result, inflated bids above market cost continue to win contracts. Projects are then poorly executed, endlessly varied, or abandoned, leaving communities with unusable infrastructure and no clear line of accountability.
Implementation transparency remains the weakest link. Once contracts are awarded, oversight collapses. Monitoring becomes a formality designed to unlock payments rather than verify delivery. A contractor working on rural health facilities described inspections as paperwork exercises with no interest in quality or functionality. Independent tracking of payments, milestones, and outcomes is almost nonexistent. Citizens, legislators, and even auditors struggle to answer basic questions about what was delivered, when, and whether it works.
Nigeria’s procurement crisis is not a failure of law. It is a failure of enforcement, accountability, and institutional culture. Laws without enforcement become decoration. Transparency without consequences becomes theater. Competition without fairness becomes deception.
Fixing this requires changing the incentives inside the system. Procurement officers must be protected, not punished, for upholding due process. Contractors must win on performance and credibility, not political access. Citizens must have access not only to who won contracts but also to what was delivered, how much was paid, and whether it meets real needs.
Until procurement integrity stops being a personal risk and becomes the norm, Nigeria will continue to spend public money without buying development. Roads will crack, hospitals will not give quality service, and non-functional airports will become another warehouse.
That is the true cost of a broken procurement reality.