Matthew Hassan Kukah, Catholic Bishop of Sokoto, diagnoses Nigeria. He spoke at the Platform, an occasion organised by Covenant Centre, Lagos, on October 1, 2015, to mark the country’s 55th independence anniversary
For years and, perhaps, out of deep frustration, Nigerians have raised up messiahs, hoping and praying that they would take away their sins and sufferings and usher in a new dawn. But, in almost all instances, our joys have turned into ashes. For over 50 years, we have celebrated every military or civilian regime only to lose patience and fall into depression. Under the civilian administrations, we have often summoned the military to come to our rescue.
Some years back, while I was in Oxford and working on my book, a friend of mine, a retired military officer, paid me a visit. We got talking about our country. I told him I really wanted to know how military coups were planned because I had never really read anything about coup plotting. He laughed and offered me some insights. I asked him if I could have him on tape and he said yes. In summary, he said something like this: “The idea of a coup could come from an individual who might then sell it to another very close friend. It is hard to know whom to trust, so you have to know how to send out feelers. So, for example, you meet a friend and you ask, ‘how are things?’ And he says, well, my brother, country hard’. You could go on and say something like, ‘how can things be so bad? Will we continue like this? It is really terribles. Then you watch and see or hear his reaction. If he is of the same feeling of frustration, then you know that he is a good material and you go from there”.
“Just like that?” I said. He continued: “Well, you keep sharing the feelings and then, from two of you, the circle could gradually increase until you become a small core group. You then get to work and this could take months to plan. But when you are done with planning, the challenge is how to gauge the mood of the country to be sure that the coup might be popular. At this point, we then reach out to our friends in the media. We get people to write articles, editorial opinions, saying how bad things are in the country. Gradually, the people themselves begin to feel that things are really bad. Even those who are doing well may begin to feel guilty and so on. By doing this, we set the tone for public approval. This is why you always see people on the streets, rejoicing and welcoming us as messiahs and redeemers. The rest, as they say is history”.
The hysteria and euphoria that greeted General Buhari’s election victory is reminiscent of these sentiments. You get a sense of de javu, we have been on this road before, it all looks so familiar. I have listened to Nigerians sing the praises of General Buhari as a morally ramrod Muslim, God fearing, a disciplined officer, a patriot, an incorruptible man who is now adorned with a messianic regalia. He will take us to the promised land, Nigerians argue, by ridding our nation of the devil of corruption. And, as they say, we shall live happy ever after.
I do not disagree with these sentiments. Some, like myself, have known the man for the better part of 20 years and can even claim some level of friendship and greater familiarity than most of those who met General Buhari after worshipping at the Church of Latter Day saints. However, I believe that Nigerians are very much mistaken in associating fear of God with goodness.
Going forward, I want to do three things. First, I will define the key words. Second, I will try to look back at how the so-called fight against corruption has been deployed by successive military regimes as a means of seducing us into compliance. My concern is whether we shall continue to fall for the same tricks given that, after over 50 years, we are nowhere near achieving success in our fight against corruption.
Against the backdrop of what I have said, I hope you can now understand why I chose the words, hysteria, euphoria and amnesia, as a way of interrogating the situation we are in. So far, what I have tried to do is to draw attention to the fact that we have been on this road before. What lessons are there for us to learn?
I wish to now turn my attention to examining why I believe that ours is a case of a long walk to freedom.
My Apple computer dictionary defines hysteria as follows: “Exaggerated or uncontrollable emotion or excitement, especially among a group of people…. psychological disorder whose symptoms include conversion of psychological stress into physical symptoms, shown in volatile emotions, overdramatic or attention seeking behaviour”. The same dictionary defines euphoria as “a state of intense excitement and happiness”, while amnesia is defined and associated with, total or partial loss of memory.
I believe the outpouring of emotions welcoming the new administration was necessary and understandable, given the nature of the trepidation ahead of the elections. However, now that we have been able to catch our breathe, what should we make of this hysteria and euphoria?
Personally, with some trepidation, I have some sense of de javu manifested in the blind hysterical and euphoric outpouring of emotions welcoming the return of President Buhari and the belief that he has come to take our sins away. The sense that, somehow, we should simply fold our hands and wait because, like a scene out of Jim-will-fix-it in the British television programme, we should hand our future to one man who knows it all.
We are becoming victims of what our famous daughter, Chimamanda, has referred to, in a most powerful essay, as the danger of the Single Story. In her words, the single story is built on stereotypes and, the trouble with stereotypes is not that they are false, but that they are incomplete. Building on this, Nigerians have imbibed the notion of the single story that we are being defined as corrupt. Thus, the idea of a fight, a war against corruption has often taken a life of its own in our collective narrative of the problems of our country.
We have moved a step further by saying that if we do not kill corruption, corruption will kill us. I consider most of this analysis a bit shallow, lacking in a serious understanding of how societies and human nature work in semi-primitive society such as ours. My argument therefore is to say that, no, we should not be talking of fighting corruption, rather, we should see corruption as a symptom of something that is intrinsically wrong with our society, the loss of the moral centre of gravity of our society.
If corruption is so evil, how come we are so much at peace with it? If corruption is so rotten, how come we all seem to enjoy its company? What are the agencies for corruption? What capacity do they have? Are they above the fray or are they also caught up in the same web of corruption?
How much bribe does a President need to pay to get an anti-corruption agency or bill passed in the legislative assembly? Why has corruption become so easy and pervasive and why is it that, like MTN would say, it is everywhere you go? What makes it so attractive? If we are so much against it, how is it that we cannot generate a collective sense of moral revulsion?
Credits: Rev. Mathew Kukah, Vanguard