IT’S nearly half a century since the Nigerian Civil War ended, but it won’t be exaggerating to say that Nigerians have since lived their lives in the trenches and under the enervating threat of yet another outbreak of civil hostilities. There are those pockets of reminders, timely warnings to those literate enough to read the signs that Nigeria perches precariously on the precipice of disaster.
From the June 12 debacle, the murder of MKO Abiola, the Ogoni struggles and the periodic cataclysms of ethnic militias; the staged proclamation of sharia law in parts of the north, the death of Umar Yar’Adua and the attempt to obstruct the peaceful transfer of power to his then deputy by a cabal of shadowy characters, the bloodbath that followed Goodluck Jonathan’s victory in the 2011 election to the Occupy Nigeria protests of 2012, Nigeria has been the proverbial scrotum on which a combustible fly has chosen to perch. But for anyone desirous of a foretaste of what it would be like if Nigerians took up arms against one another today, the last three weeks should suffice. So let all chic adventurers and rooky warlord beware: a civil war is not a family indaba. One thing that these few weeks of confusion have brought out in bold outlines is this country’s gradual transformation into a failed state. Nigeria may not have fallen apart at the seams, the patch work of diverse nationalities that the British clobbered together may still hold together, but the peace that reigns at the moment is of a type with the one that precedes destruction.
It demands both attention and careful managing. And the indices of Nigeria’s gradual collapse are mirrored in the severe weakening of social fabric and near total collapse of governmental strictures since the perennial energy crises that have held us bondage in the last few years returned again with renewed vigour in the last few weeks. With power supply at an all-time low even though tariffs are sky-high, with fuel as scarce as a hound’s tooth and state officials out of their depth as to what to do, there is hardly any other way to describe the symptoms our nation manifests than as those of a failed state. While the energy crises persist, fuel dealers hoard products sourced from state outlets at approved rates and make a kill reselling them at black market rates. Security agents and others entrusted with the responsibility of halting such corrupt transactions turn a blind eye after their hands have been greased. Many states groan under the backlog of many months of unpaid salaries with their governors boldly calling the bluff of labour and daring those workers not satisfied with their condition of financial incapacitation to do their very worst.
It would be telling a lying to say Nigerians have ever had it this bad. The grimness of the situation beggars belief even without any official or general acknowledgment of the breakdown of social order. Nigeria may not be at war yet but the picture out there tells us we are on the cusp of one. This is the dour news from the streets. These are the days of caution, of the dusk of destruction or the long night that precedes a new dawn. Either way we must choose in which direction to go. But in what direction can we go when cattle herders have abandoned their prodding staff in favour of AK47s and embarked on a campaign of mass murder?
From Nsukka to Ekiti, Kogi to Agatu, the grazing field have become killing fields. One can’t tell the difference between armed bandits and armed cattle herders whose cattle are themselves under the siege of rustlers that run a multimillion naira industry of crime. While the security agencies are stretched beyond limit their failure and helplessness are highlighted in equal measure by the seeming helplessness of our elected leaders to intervene meaningfully in the growing anarchy that plagues the polity. Nigeria now gives the impression of an airplane on auto-pilot, a militarised fiefdom carved under the competing control of rogue militias. The insurgents in different parts of the north-east have surely been contained to a certain degree. But their defeat is far from a complete rout. Sambisa forest, a part of Nigeria’s territorial boundary, has for at least two years been under the permanent control of Boko Haram, become a more or less forbidden zone for our military.
This is a record in our independent existence. Not even the Bakassi Peninsular, the flashpoint that for several years threatened to draw Nigeria into a bloody fraternal combat with Cameroon was until its formal hand over ever an occupied space. Neither oil bunkerers, pipeline vandals nor other criminals on the creeks have loosened their hold on the country’s jugular. They’ve continued their plunder and have taken on the security forces in an unprecedented show of might. They kill and maim anyone that stands in their way as they run, kamikaze-style, to their death. They are hardly discouraged by any deterrence offered by the state. Besieged on all sides by diverse groups and individuals including public and elected officials who have transformed their offices into positions of lucre, Nigeria totters like a drunken giant on a leg of clay. Our past haunts us. Meanwhile the Naira continues its free cascade against the dollar, sending the financial sector and the country’s economy into a tailspin. Legitimate users of foreign exchange have no assurance that they will get any to run their business even as some resell what little the Central Bank could provide for profit without fear of consequences. The National Assembly this past week returned a budget long-delayed due to padding for presidential assent. But not before introducing new series of self-serving padding into a budget already burdened with criminal padding by bureaucrats that are past masters in the art of official pilfering. To whom do you turn when an armed robber keeps the key of the national vault? And President Muhammdu Buhari, as uncommunicative as ever it would take to make the effort he has so far made to bring the expected change to Nigeria appear non-existent- the president this week washed up his begging bowl and faced China in search of a $2 Billion dollars loan. Some of the projects for which the loan is intended have already been removed from the budget that awaits his assent by the National Assembly. But with the war-like situation at home, with the beleaguered country looking increasingly like a failed state, Nigerians would be hard put to make sense of the frequent presidential trips. Buhari is not the cause of the quagmire in which Nigerians have found themselves but his government must provide palpable evidence of what makes it part of the solution.
VANGUARD
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