The Poverty Tribe
By Tunji Lardner
Never mind those boastful allusions to greatness that we
routinely make to the world. ‘The giant of Africa’ is the term usually bandied
about, with its corollary being ‘the most
populous country in Africa with over 250 ethnicities and over 400 languages
spoken.’ While that might be true when
projected outwards and relative to other countries on the continent, at home these
numbers dissolve into a tissue of lies about the veracity of our census and
true our demography. Since independence,
we have kept up the big lie about the true and accurate numbers of the various
ethnicities, especially the big three; Igbo, Hausa and Yoruba and with scant
regard for the teeming minority ‘tribes.’ Our political leaders have instead
preferred to maintain and legitimize this fiction, because in a mono-cultural petro-state,
with most of the national income goes to the centre and revenue from the
proceeds of Oil, how much you get, depends on dubious population claims or primordial
claims to land rights, either way, we have collectively chosen to substitute
fact for fiction.
The truth however is that contrary to all these demographic
claims, there is one large and growing tribe that is possibly larger than the
big three ‘tribes’ put together. The largest tribe in Nigeria today is the
poverty tribe. Now before we start parsing what the definition of poverty is to
confuse and distort its meaning and manifestations in Nigeria today, let me offer
a UN definition that describes poverty "as the total absence of
opportunities, accompanied by high levels of undernourishment, hunger,
illiteracy, lack of education, physical and mental ailments, emotional and
social instability, unhappiness, sorrow and hopelessness for the future.
Poverty is also characterized by a chronic shortage of economic, social and
political participation, relegating individuals to exclusion as social beings,
preventing access to the benefits of economic and social development and
thereby limiting their cultural development."
Sounds
familiar? It should, because all our socio-economic indicators validate the
depredations of poverty that is so widespread and all around us that we have
become inured to the destitution, desperation and death by poverty that afflict
most of our compatriots; by some credible estimates, up to 70% of Nigerian live
below the poverty line. In the last five years it has been estimated that the
poverty rate in Nigeria has doubled to manifest as 112 million Nigerians living
the very miserable lives articulated in the preceding UN definition.
Recently
the venerable Economist Magazine published a list of 80 countries that were
measured on a quality of life index, with the title ‘The lottery of life’ Where
to be born in 2013. According to them, the best place to be born this year is
Switzerland and the worst, right at the very bottom of the list was Nigeria.
Granted that it was not a comprehensive list of countries and a valid point can
be made about the Economist’s predictably snarky reportage about Africa in
general, even so, Nigeria has for a long time been one of the worst places to
be born for mothers and children. The fact is that we have one of the world’s
highest maternal and infant mortality rates, as well as one of the highest HIV
infection rates. Beyond the expected
apologia about Nigeria being a developing country and as such should not be
compared with Switzerland...blah..blah...blah, and the present administration’s trope of a
transformational agenda that is ‘sure and steady,’ the country’s vital signs do
not look too good, Nigeria is sick, some might say terminally so.
For the
rest of us counting ourselves lucky enough not to belong to this tribe on the
basis of access to material goods and services, well I have news for you. We
all suffer from even more insidious forms of poverty. It is possible to be rich
and still be poor at the same time. I’ve often wonder about this paradox,
especially when engaging with Nigerian plutocrats, mostly the ever changing
roster of the nouveau riche, the latest beneficiaries of a corrupt petro-state.
One gets the impression that in spite of the outward, and I dare say, crass
accumulation and display of material wealth, these individuals at close
quarters resonate with a ringing hollowness, mental shallowness, and a
startling lack of self awareness.
It is this mental shallowness that best describes
the mental poverty, or better still, the poverty of the mind that seems to
afflict many Nigerians and is especially rampant in its leaders. For all the
buck passing and excuses we give about why Nigeria is so dysfunctional, one
simple fact emerges and that is the very poor policy formation and decision
making processes that we presently have in place at all levels of governance.
When we examine government policies closely we discover that they are typically
very short sighted and expedient, primarily designed to fulfil more privatized
interests than ultimately the public good.
Stripped off the theatrics and insularity that
Nigerian governments typically shroud their policy formation and delivery
processes, a policy is really and quite simply what a government chooses to do,
or not do. In this light, it simply means that the persistent and chronic
poverty in the land is a reflection of what our governments and leaders have
chosen to, or not do, over the last fifty odd years. And contrary to the
frequent invocations by politicians and government officials of the devil or
dark forces as being responsibly for our failures; poverty in Nigeria is
man-made, an artefact of our collective creation, because we have failed to
hold our leaders accountable for their misdeeds.
Now if indeed the devil has had a hand in
creating this hell on earth, he/she must have done so with the active
connivance of Nigerians, who display such callousness and abject disregard for
their country and country men, that it can be argued that these group of people
(and we all know them) must be indeed possessed by Lucifer. This poverty of the
soul or spirit is writ large in our national psyche. We claim to be deeply
religious, spiritual even, but remain stubbornly amoral, putting up an
impenetrable moral firewall between our public ethics and our private morality.
Take the recent and celebrated case of John Yesufu Yakubu a mid- level civil
servant and our ‘thief de jour’ who is reputed to have made off N32.8, which in
real money is over $140 million of the Police Pension Fund. His was let off by
the Judge and fined N750,000 (about $5,000).
The rich irony of stealing from the Nigerian
police aside, the opportunity cost of this grand larceny to the common wealth
and wellbeing is astounding. I ran some numbers indexed against Nigeria’s 2012
national budget and came up with these figures.
Yakubu’s haul is 536.89% of the budgetary allocation for the Ministry of
Police affairs and 777.31% of the budget for the Independent Corrupt Practices
and other Related Offences Commission (ICPC), which in lay terms means that Mr.
Yakubu can technically afford to run the Police Affairs Ministry and the ICPC
for five and seven years respectively-two of the instruments of state expressly
designed to uphold law and order and put criminals like Yakubu behind bars for
a very long time. Equally stupefying is the fact that one man and his cronies
stole the equivalent of 48.07 of the National budgetary allocation for
Universal Basic Education, which means that perhaps half of Nigeria’s school
age children running into the tens of millions could technically be denied an
education because the system we have co-created allows and encourages people to
steal from the commonwealth, with no real fear of consequences.
At a personal level, and from the larcenous
vantage point of Mr. Yakubu, I must ask...what accounts for such reptilian greed,
such insatiable pillaging and worse still, such collective numbness and
indifference to an act so dangerous and damaging to the common good, it must be
considered high treason. The answer in a
word is poverty. Nigeria is a rich country full of poor people.
Comments can be sent to:
me.tlardner@gmail.com