29 Nov 2008 |
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A metaphor called Nuhu Ribadu For a moment there, someone switched on the light. Its name: Nuhu Ribadu, a fresh-faced, fire-belching policeman and lawyer. Ribadu was armed with a gallon of kerosene and a box of matches. His avowed mission, as he was appointed Chairman of the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC), was to incinerate corruption in Nigerian public life. It was a mission received with deep cynicism by many Nigerians. To begin with, our nation seemed littered with powerful and entrenched thieves. For another, it was being led by a man who had his finger in many sewers himself. How was Ribadu going to combat corruption without being pulled into one of them himself? At the beginning, Ribadu seemed to know where he was going. He said the right things. In the West, he was celebrated as Nigeria’s new hero, and his press conferences were heavily attended by journalists who knew a lot about corruption in Nigeria. Then Ribadu walked into three historical and hysterical errors. The first was the nation’s success in recovering the so-called Abacha loot. Sani Abacha, who ruled Nigeria for another dangerous stretch of the 1990s after it survived Ibrahim Bademasi Babangida, had looted Nigeria into scandal. But he had also jailed one Olusegun Obasanjo, a man of elephantine recall. Unfortunately for Abacha, Obasanjo returned from jail to assume leadership of Nigeria. And Obasanjo was going to make certain that no matter what region of hell Abacha was roasting in, he would remember Obasanjo as enjoying the louder guffaw. Thus Nigeria searched the world for Abacha’s loot, an endeavor that was often curiously misunderstood as the nation’s battle against corruption. Still, it was an interesting game, particularly if you happened be the first national appointed to hound “economic and financial crime.” The search for Abacha’s loot was easy, partly because the man was dead, and partly because the emergence of certain new technologies, and the international political and legal climate, were in our favour. Hundreds of millions of dollars began to come in. This experience permitted many a powerful statement from Nigeria anti-corruption star. It also led him into his second error. He failed to recognize that even for a military general such as his boss, stripping a dead soldier naked is different from confronting even a breathing civilian. And many of the civilians in play had become richer and far more devious than anything any Nigerian soldier had ever seen on Nigerian soil. That was responsible for Ribadu’s third error. Although there was enough evidence to warn him that the anti-corruption issue had reached a major milestone, he proceeded as if it he did not recognize it. That milestone was to clarify that nobody was above the law. Many Nigerians argued, in this respect, that the EFCC was being used principally against opponents of President Obasanjo. Names cited included Vice-President Atiku Abubakar, Senate President Wabara, and Inspector-General of Police Balogun. Ribadu dismissed all those objections. Asked in New York, late in 2006, about the corruption of Obasanjo and former Works and Housing Minister Anthony Anenih, Ribadu said they were not the most corrupt people in Nigeria. He did not produce the most corrupt people in Nigeria. A part of that may have been understandable. Perhaps the most corrupt people were some of the governors. Constitutional immunity made them strong and arrogant, and Ribadu promised immediate action as soon as they left office. Yet, the clouds continued to gather. Presenting the Annual Report of the Commission to the National Assembly in 2006, he stated that many governors were guilty of corruption. That prompted an uproar, with the named governors calling Obasanjo or streaming into Abuja to confront him. And what did Obasanjo do? He told the Governors not to worry, that it could not be correct to say that so many of them were guilty of corruption. And Ribadu? He did not open the files and try to convince the President he was both correct and serious. And he did not resign his appointment. Then came May 2007 and the advent of a new government, and Ribadu failed to carry out his threat to serve misery on the corrupt governors as soon as they had handed power over to their successors. He seemed to lack the vision to see the rain in the distance, and the courage to give up the position that brought him to the attention and respect of the world. It is this ambivalence that Ribadu is now paying for. True, they stripped him of his EFCC position and sent him off to school. True, they are working hard to strip him of the double-promotion Obasanjo gave him as boss of the EFCC. True, they are accusing him of corruption by gluing to his hands to property he never stole. Ribadu is fighting back, and he ought to. But he is obviously no politician, because he has permitted himself to be pushed into a near-impossible corner. He must now defend his rank as Assistant Inspector-General of Police by taking steps that bring him nose to nose with the top brass of the Police who must have hated his so-called anti-corruption crusade and the promotions they never enjoyed. Later this week, Ribadu awards them the opportunity to throw the rule book at him. His chances are not good. What went wrong? What happened is that Ribadu made the same mistake that all pseudo-revolutionaries make: revolution by installments. This is a contradiction. A revolution means that when you cross the bridge, you set fire to it. You can only advance, with no comfort expected in retreat. You do not start a “revolution” therefore, if you are in any doubt. I know that Ribadu had constraints, but a revolution always does. The problem is that he failed to define his own side of the conflict, which was supposed to be the people of Nigeria. Instead, he defined it in terms of the government, alias Obasanjo. As President, Obasanjo never made such lapses. His definition of the national interest was the government, and the definition of the government was Obasanjo. Ribadu thought there was a fog when there was none. Today, as Ribadu navigates the worst stretch of his life, Obasanjo is playing the role of a saviour in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. He is sponsoring people into President Umaru Yar’Adua’s cabinet. He could save Ribadu, but why? Despite his failures, Ribadu is the closest Nigeria has ever come to a genuine assault on corruption, and I am grateful to him. But he must understand now that he is at war, and it is a lonely business. If he has a strategy team to them, my recommendation is to negotiate freedom and disengagement with the Police Force in exchange for accepting his demotion to Commissioner. There are far worse things, just as there are many great things he can still accomplish.
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