Achieving a Better Nigeria Is a Moral Problem

By

Hamilton Odunze

 

                                                                                                   

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; businesspeople 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