A Life Of Bribery

Salisu Suleiman is one journalist that has continuously managed to convey without prejudice the dynamics of the Nigerian spirit. In this piece by him titled "Bribing your way through life", every Nigerian gets to look in the mirror. Read on and reflect.

You know the traffic light has stopped you, but still you zoom on, only to be flagged down by traffic wardens who have strategically positioned themselves for that very purpose - not before the lights to deter potential offenders, but after, to arrest actual offenders. For one split second, you consider speeding off, assured in the knowledge that the wardens do not have the vehicles to chase, nor the gadgets to track you. But you stop, and like vultures, they get into your car. You drive to a corner and negotiate. They demand N5,000 or threaten to take you to court. You plead or insult them into taking N200. Both sides are satisfied.

A few days later, officers of the Federal Road Safety Corps mount a roadblock to check drivers and vehicle documents. Your driver's license expired ages ago. Your car does not have insurance or up to date registration. It is seized by stony-faced officers. Soon, a friendlier officer comes along and offers you tips on how to ‘escape' the problem. After artful negotiations, you end up parting with thousands of naira and the car is released. Life goes on.

Not long afterwards, customs officers who demand the original import duties of your car stop you. Nobody knows if they have the powers to do that, but uniforms represent very powerful tools of oppression in Nigeria. Of course you do not have the documents because the car was smuggled in with forged papers. This could be a serious offense, but you negotiate your way out of it with several thousands of naira and a warning to go and get genuine documents. You all know it will not happen.

Then you run into a police checkpoint on a highway. The officers are heavily armed and will brook no nonsense. You do not have proof of ownership, so the car is not yours. To prove that the car is actually yours, you are also forced to part with a couple of hundreds of naira. You curse them. You pray that the money will never be of use to them. You invoke calamities on them and their future generations yet unborn. They do not care. They've heard more curses and more invectives rained on them by other motorists. If you do not cut your losses by quickly leaving the scene, you may end of a victim of ‘accidental discharge' or get shot for resisting arrest.

A friend or relative is in hospital with a health problem. You get there, only to be told that the sick person is yet to see a doctor despite waiting for hours. You immediately take charge. You locate the relevant officials and soon, your patient is moved to the front of the line. Miraculously, he sees a doctor within minutes. The hospital pharmacy tells you that there are no medicines and refers you a private pharmacy owned by his friend or relative. You smile knowingly. A few more notes (one issued by the doctor, and the others by the CBN) exchange hands. Again, by some form of miracle, medicines appear.

At school, there is a carryover that you have been unable to deal with. Your friends and classmates tell you that no matter how much you try, you'll never pass cross that bridge. Eventually, you find out that the course has a fee that has to be paid. Through intermediaries (usually the class rep or other classmates, you pay the fee and the carryover immediately varnishes. Depending on how much you ‘dropped', you may end of with a distinction.

You get home one day to find that your water supply has been cut. You immediately call a contact at the water board who tells you there is nothing he can do since there is a mass disconnection of defaulters going on. Joke. You see the manager and ‘settle' with him and he orders that you be immediately reconnected. The bill is torn up.

Every so often, NEPA decides to remind Nigerians that it is still alive, so even without giving you any power, they issue a huge bill you must pay or else be disconnected (from what, you may be tempted to ask). But you know the game and play along. You part with a few thousands and the enormous bills are erased from the central computer. Don't ask how.

So having bribed, cajoled, threatened and bought your way through life, who then has the moral right to say that votes were rigged, or government corrupt?