It’s merely weeks ago, on this page, that I was commenting on how, in the hands of Nigeria’s new ruler, the country was steadily eliminating the concept of ethics or morality in public life.
At the time, a new Senate President had been installed: Godswill Akpabio, a former governor of Akwa Ibom State, whom for eight years the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (at least in public) has been trying to put in jail over allegations of stealing N108.1bn.
I thought it was curious that Akpabio, who had gone on to serve as senator and minister (including of the Niger Delta Development Commission), each of them a stop in which his character had been challenged if not indicted, began his tenure as Senate President by declaring that he would “work to renew the hope of Nigerians via people-oriented legislation.”
I wondered how a man who was demystified as governor, minister and senator would return to the Upper House swearing that (in his hands) “the dreams, aspirations and well-being of Nigerians would be at the heart of legislative activities.”
I observed that it was no coincidence that two branches of the Federal Government were headed by men with similar ethical records, and that Akpabio could face worse prospects in the next four years than Bukola Saraki, who during his time in the same chair often had to go to court over his character to face a magistrate.
That was before the future really began to unfold, for those who thought in terms of hope, in terms of nominations to the federal cabinet or appointments.
What did we get? Remember that I was speaking of a cynical APC playbook “in which top office holders must first possess an unsavoury curriculum vitae”?
Well, save for a few of the nominees, Nigerians received a wide assortment of certificate forgers, kleptocrats, former governors who had ruined their states, religious bigots, and others with questions about their education.
It was an insulting list because Nigeria clearly does not need or have the resources for such a large outfit, densely populated with people who would enter the Senate for confirmation weighed down by questions, doubt and mistrust. But they had the trump card: the knowledge that the Akpabio-led Senate was guaranteed to confirm them.
Otherwise, how does Nasir El-Rufai – a man who has taken off his mask and clarified that he is in this for religious supremacy rather than the success or even survival of Nigeria as one country, a man who served as a minister 20 years ago – qualify for service as a minister in 2023?
How does Abubakar Bagudu, the former governor of Kebbi State whom the world knows as one of those who helped Sani Abacha to loot Nigeria, obtain credibility as a federal minister? In what other country would a man who was arrested in the United States for his part in the Abacha mess and who paid $163m before being repatriated to Nigeria become Nigeria’s minister?
How is any of those creatures who do not know where they went to school or perhaps even if they went to school, people who appear to be surprised that they would be asked any questions, or that their background would be scrutinised qualify to be listed as a minister?
What the confirmation process reminds us is that these questions are meaningless: the mission of those in charge of this moment is not to find good, qualified people who will serve, but to send people into the country who will pollute the waters further.
It is how Akpabio sits in the seat of the Senate President, to begin with. It is why he can sit there and laugh at a line about whether the poor should be “allowed to breathe.” It is why the Senate does such a shoddy job of examining nominees, and why the most atrocious candidates receive the pass mark, “Bow and Go.”
Consider that all of this was extended last week with Abdullahi Ganduje, the former governor of Kano State who was seen by the entire world in a video in 2021 stuffing chunks of illegal dollar bills into his pockets, becoming the chairman of the All Progressives Congress.
The party announced the new chairman just two weeks after the new government in Kano, which wants to press corruption charges against Ganduje, confirmed that forensic analysis of the video had confirmed that contrary to the ex-governor’s denials, he is indeed the man seen collecting the money.
Does this matter to the APC, the party over which he now presides? Of course not. The more complicated and controversial elements there are, the more normal everything can be made out to be.
But none of this is accidental. It is designed to convey the impression to the country and to the world that much of what is seen and heard – or even established – is debatable. And that “controversial” people are somehow successful people.
In other words, when officials of this government say anything about corruption, it seems that corruption is normal and not something negative to be “combated.” What is happening here is that all these defective nominees and appointees are being sent out deliberately so they can spread the message and carnage of ruthlessness, because power, as they were told, “is not served a la carte” but must be seized and run away with.
No, it is not that Nigeria has run out of men and women of character and ability, or that one contradicts the other. It is not that there is a prevailing new upbringing of children in Nigeria under which they are being raised not to respect character or morality. It is that a certain access to temporal power has seized control and is determined to sew its thorns among our seeds.
But it must all be put in context. This is all happening against a new era of military coups in West Africa, including in Niger, to our north, into which Nigeria was being sucked as last week ended. I am against military intervention, but that has never prevented it from happening, and a situation where our struggling new “government” appears willing to abandon its serious issues to go into a war across the border that will only complicate Nigeria’s own problems is annoying. Hopefully, it will find the wisdom to opt for diplomacy.
That said, that African nations still fall prey to coups is owed precisely to a situation where politicians treat elections and governance not as a responsibility but as opportunity to manipulate. There is no better example than Nigeria in this respect, and treating an election as a theatre in which power can be snatched and run-off with is an investment in conflict.
For eight years, the APC proved to be worse than the party it succeeded, and that one had been atrocious. That APC puts in place a new administration ought to be reason for hope even if the party had not chosen such a slogan.
Instead, it is proving that it is exactly what it sees in the mirror.
