It will only get worse from here. The realisation that our country is the proverbial ‘Omoye’ strutting naked into the marketplace would soon become a national blockbuster. This is why I want us to consider this not as a prophecy of doom but as a projection of a predictable tell-tale of what happens when a society loses its anchor.
Recently another piece of news broke. A cocaine warehouse was uncovered in Ikorodu, Lagos State. Retrieved from this structure in the quiet Solebo Estate were some “10 bags and 13 drums” of cocaine all worth $278,250,000. In our ailing currency, that’s a whooping N194,775,000,000. As mouthful as the pronunciation of the figure might seem, I want us to move our minds away from the parade/arrest of the drug peddlers; away from the great job of the National Drug Law Enforcement Agency officers, whom we must acknowledge; away from the exclamatory remarks that make the peddlers the criminals and we the innocent civilians, and turn our focus to the more salient thing—the big questions.
It is humanly impossible that hard drugs of that enormous quantity disappeared into the warehouse. Like every other inanimate, someone was deliberate enough to position it (there). That even gets more complicated with things like this where the success of such positioning is a complex network of operations that requires tons of people. So, such questions as “how did it get past the Nigerian border authorities?”, “Who was complicit?”, “Who mulled it?” are primary inquiries better suited as reactions to this news.
In a quest to answer these probes, I believe it would be helpful for us to consider the street capitalism that underlies the trade-line system of (atrocities and) drugs, especially as evinced by the recent rag-tag arrest of the super cop, Abba Kyari, in Nigeria. Put simply, by street capitalism, I mean the venture of money over everything. What makes this an absolute thing we should all worry about is, perhaps, its new dimension: a dimension hard-wired in desensitisation and a money-craze culture, something that, unfortunately, has trickled into the minds of many Nigerians.
I invite you to ponder over this thought: to what extent do you think that the money-craze culture ubiquitous in Nigerian society contributed to the involvement of men as old as 69 (Soji), 65 (Emmanuel), 53 (Wasiu and Sunday) in this heinous crime? What role do we as folks in society play in supporting, however subtle, the mantra of money over everything?
When reacting to this (cocaine) unveiling, as well as others alike, we must desist from looking at it only as a criminal case or offence if we want to get to the root of it. A wide range of other perspectives is not only necessary but beneficial. Take for instance the weed/hemp/marijuana tragedy in Nigerian society. Rather than condemn the smokers as “thugs”, “no-do-gooder” or “bad boys” and end it there, we must consider the surrounding circumstance that makes them soaked in it. Street capitalism. Who profits from these things knowing the harm it causes? Who gifts it out to young boys and men in lieu of having them do something for him/her? Who allows it into society in the first place? These are critical perspectives we must invigorate—as a society—if we desire change.
I take this now to the endemic of “internet fraudsters,” a label so broad in meaning today that one almost can’t comprehend the stretch of it. Disturbingly so, it is now a cool thing. The shift in meaning as well as the social perception of it should scare us as sane people on the Nigerian street. 419 used to mean a decree against fraudulent persons. 419 morphed to become a fraudulent person. 419 transformed into Yahoo Yahoo. Yahoo Yahoo got pruned into Yahoo. Yahoo flipped to become G. And G, as of now, is a young (wo)man living in luxury without any known means of livelihood. Street capitalism. These youngsters are not ghosts. They live around people who know very well how they make their money. Surprisingly, parents sometimes encourage and support their wards in this unholy business hiding under the guise of asinine rebuttal like “(s)he is collecting back the money the White people stole from our ancestors.” The concentration on money and the desensitisation of the evil means of its accrual will only debase us. We have a lot to lose should we keep up with this strange ideal. As a society, we would degenerate. As a community, we would wallow in greater poverty. And these are just surface side effects.
The path of desensitisation is the public office holder doing nothing before and after things go south. It is the traditional institutions rewarding the chaff among us with chieftaincy titles. It is the community hailing the dubious. It is parents patting their errant children on the back. It is you and me looking the other way.
We must acknowledge these ills, apportion blames, and accept them before anything else. A lot of the time, as citizens, we are quick to point fingers. Government this; government that, ignoring the portion of our input in the state of our being. Just some months back, there was scarcity of fuel. Owners of fuel stations hoarded their products only to open their gates for extortions. Ridiculous pump prices and even more ridiculous was the money for kegs. Street capitalism; money over everything. In the marketplace, the seller punctures the measuring scale in a bid to make more money. Street capitalism; money over everything. In schools, students contract projects, exams and sometimes buy better grades at a fixed price. Street capitalism; money over everything. Our entertainment industry delivers our eyes and ears to the fire of profanity. Street capitalism; money over everything. Friends swindle friends; family swindle family. Street capitalism. Money. Over. Everything.
The case of the drug pushers is only one out of many. As such, what I hope we take out of it isn’t that these terrible men were arrested. What I do hope we take away from it is to answer this simple question: to what extent do you engage in or condone the money-craze culture?
Ibrahim Williams is of the Department of English, University of Mississippi, US
