NIGERIA AND ANTI-CORRUPTION DAY

Last week, International Anti Corruption Day was observed. It has been marked annually on 9, December since the United Nations Convention Against Corruption was adopted on 31 October 2003 to raise public awareness of anti corruption. The day was observed in Nigeria.

Although the fight against corruption in Nigeria is as old as the nation itself, corruption still poses critical challenges to the country’s economic and social development. It diverts resources from legitimate causes that benefit society, denies millions their fundamental freedoms and human rights, and perpetuates poverty while hindering economic opportunity.

In its own dark way, corruption appears to be a unifying factor. When corruption occurs, those who loot the public treasury do not discriminate on tribal, ethnic, religious, or political lines. They cooperate and speak the same language. It is only when they are called to justice that they begin to play the ethnic and religious cards.

For decades, Nigerians have watched those in authority—both at federal and state levels—plunder national resources with reckless confidence. Public fund misappropriation is no longer a shameful act; it has become a familiar story.

Across the corridors of power, public servants at every level have perfected the art of looting the treasury. The irony is painful: these so called

leaders often face no real consequences. In fact, it sometimes seems as though looting public funds is not only tolerated but quietly encouraged. It has become so normalized that reports of stolen resources barely raise an eyebrow. A pattern has emerged: get elected or appointed into public office, then steal as much as possible before leaving. It is disgusting.

Billions mysteriously vanish; the methods differ, but the outcome is always the same—the masses suffer while a privileged few grow obscenely wealthy. Corrupt Nigerian officials do not merely skim off the top; they go for the entire pot. Public funds are treated like personal piggy banks, smashed open whenever they please. Even worse, many escape unpunished.

How many public servants truly face consequences for looting the treasury? How many actually see the inside of a jail cell? Even when caught, they slip through the cracks of a compromised justice system—receiving a slap on the wrist here, a token fine there—and before long they return to the office, sometimes even re elected by the very people they robbed.

Because of weak anti corruption institutions, society now views corruption not as a crime but as an opportunity for self enrichment, creating a vicious cycle of impunity and an untouchable elite. Traditional institutions across the country, which ought to uphold decency, instead honor corrupt individuals with undeserved titles, while honest public servants receive no fanfare simply because they have nothing to offer.

It is disheartening to watch billions disappear, leaving behind abandoned projects and broken promises. Is it too much to ask why those in authority siphon funds from critical sectors, leaving barely enough to build even one functional hospital? If public funds were treated as a shared resource—take what you need, but don’t hoard everything—the country would be far better off.

Yet Nigerian politicians approach the national budget like private equity, devouring everything and leaving empty plates for the masses, with not a trace of restraint. Meanwhile, ordinary Nigerians face collapsing infrastructure, dysfunctional schools, and a healthcare system gasping for breath. Hoping that corrupt politicians will suddenly become honest is like expecting them to cease the unchecked looting.

Abba Dukawa, abbahydukawa@gmail.com