Earlier in the week it was reported that Chief Olusegun Obasanjo
had given his approval to the decision by Alhaji Nasir el-Rufa’i, the minister of the Federal Capital Territory, to sack 130 public servants, including seven directors, 18 deputy directors and 30 assistant directors un the Federal Capital Development Authority. This is said to be in line with the Federal Government’s new reform policy.
Though reasons have not been explicitly stated in the reports, it is widely speculated that the sack might not be unconnected with the issue of corruption. In other words, the affected public servants might have been deemed responsible for the endemic corruption in the FCDA; and the sack was expected to rid the place of corruption.
If that is the reason, then I have had news for Obasanjo and el-Rufa’i; because this measure that they have taken will almost certainly lead to more corruption, not less. Not in just the FCDA, but in the nation as a whole. And there should be nothing surprising about it: as you sow, so shall you reap.
We are slowly going back to the worst aspects of the 1988 Civil Service Reforms. Under the guise of de-pooling and professionalising their staff, the ministers of finance and the Federal Capital Territory have got approval to delink their ministries from the main civil service. Are we not been taken back to the “director-general” that this administration, with so much noise and chest-beating gusto, condemned and abandoned on coming into office? But perhaps because it has not laid down any system, the Obasanjo Administration sees nothing wrong and indeed seems to take delight in regularly reversing itself. This is very unfortunate.
The biggest problem of the service is, no doubt, just this – that the political executives have under, one guise or the other, usurped the powers and functions of the Public Service Commission, PSC. The PSC nowadays lacks even the courage to insist on holding onto and acting out its brief! One sometimes wonders whether, indeed, there is a Public Service Commission in this country.
As its independence eroded, it failed to insulate or protect public servants from political interference; or, worse, being made guinea pigs in bureaucratic experiments of dubious value. Along the way the PSC seems to have forgotten that it is its job to recruit, promote, discipline and sack public servants. And these are powers that ought not to have been exercised by any other body or person. But, as it is now, the PSC has effectively been reduced to a mere Clearing House for hire-and-fire decisions taken in the ministries or in Aso Rock.
The public service was established as a storehouse of expertise and experience to advise the government of the day in formulating its policies and to help in implementing those policies with diligence, loyalty and all sense of responsibility. To do this the public servant needs protection that his honest advice doesn’t in the end land him into trouble with an executive concerned only with politics. It was largely to provide this protection from political over-bearance that the Public Service Commission was established to insulate public servants from any type of interference. But it is not much of an insulation to public servants today; because, apparently, it cannot even protect itself.
If the Public Service Commission was properly doing its job, Alhaji Nasir el-Rufa’i wouldn’t have been able to sack those 130 officers. And even if they were corrupt or guilty as charged the minister was not the court to decide their guilt. Nor is Obasanjo competent to decide that. Only the PSC could sack workers. Otherwise there wouldl be anarchy in place of stability, nepotism in place of merit, and vendetta instead of reform.
Sacking public servants by executive fiat at various levels has been the chief cause of corruption in the public service and within the larger society in general. It demoralized and it frightened civil servants and cut the ground the under the feet of the public service. It dealt a devastating blow to due process and to proper procudure. Many people see the beginnings of the deterioration of the law and order situation in these acts of arbitrariness.
No doubt the law and order situation in Nigeria had begun to deteriorate in ways that were quite alarming in the aftermaths of Nigeria’s civil war; but it wasn’t a general deterioration as such; and because the public service was intact, all this was contained . Nonetheless, it introduced the issue of armed robbery into the bargain.
The war had made guns available and the deprivations of war had created desperate situations for some and the desperadoes among them took to the gun. Benign drugs – chiefly marijuana – had also begun to become available. Traditional authority was breaking apart. It was a very explosive social mix; but because of the relative strength of the public service inherited by the Gown regime matters were kept in check. Despite that, however, the revolution launched by Oyenusi continued unabated. Armed robbers were able to pull off one daring operation from time to time, as if to remind the nation of its vulnerability.
By the time General Murtala Muhammed took over, feelings of insecurity among public servants was added to the general insecurity from armed robbery and other social vices. In the psyche of Nigerians the atmosphere became that of a cut-throat competition and a climate of everyone-for-himself. And just as armed robbers were exploiting the surface, public servants began digging up the innards of the system
From the struggle for national cake and on behalf of parts of the nation, public service was turned into a struggle for a share of the personal cake. And those with the biggest and longest knives took the largest cuts. Few were able to resist the free-for-all frenzy for self-enrichment.
And from Murtala’s time to date it has been a general slide downhill. From then on it appears as if Nigerians – both the public and the public servants – are not ready to respect the law, follow procedure or be content with what is legitimately theirs unless a superior force stronger than them forces them to do so. Force, unfortunately, has proved effective in eliciting right conduct: but even more effective and more appropriate is deserved punishment.
It is now generally accepted that in checking criminal, unethical, unwanted behaviour like corruption, there is nothing more effective than punishment, but this is what Nigeria doesn’t mete out to the right people at the right time and in right measure. But, for it to be effective, it must be a just and due punishment determined by a law or a procedure that is known and applied equally and fairly in respect of all infractions; and not just according to the whims of some temporary holders of power.
There has never really been any serious, comprehensive, thorough, impartial and verifiable probe and investigation into suspected cases of corrupt enrichment by leaders and other top public officers in the country. And even when half-hearted attempts are made – often not necessarily for the public good but as a vendetta for settling scores – the right people are not investigated; and when they are, no follow-up ever gets set up. The White Paper in that case is literally white – because there is no writing on it.
It is even better if no investigation takes place; because a probe into indictable offences without subsequent punishment is a waste of everybody’s time. Worse still, it is an invitation to more of what the probe ostensibly sets out to cure. And even when punishment was meted out it was often limited to a mere confiscation of misappropriated property as if it was the mere act of possession that was the crime. The real commission of the criminal act itself as well as the criminal mind go unpunished.
And worst of all, when the confiscation were made during General Murtala’s probe of his military governors, as if they alone were corrupt, the properties seized were subsequently returned by the Babangida regime. While it could be argued that Murtala’s probes and purges were themselves matters that could not stand the rigours of legal scrutiny, his actions, by wide acclamation, were taken in public interest. But Babangida’s reversal of them was carried out without any convincing legal justification given. Its effect, whatever Babangida’s intentions, was to vitiate the achievements of the sense of responsibility that Murtala’s probes insulated and the great fear for corruption that Buhari’s shortlived revolution instilled.
In the light of these two experiences it is clear that Nigeria’s prime problem is to make its public servants – that is, the ones who are corrupt – internalize values of hardwork, honesty and concern for the public. Obasanjo seemed to have realized this—and even sounded concerned. On his very first day in office – May 31, 1999 – he promised to do something about this.
“I am not unaware that the public services had gone through a traumatic experience, particularly under the two military administrations preceding the one I succeeded,” he said, “An administration has the civil service it deserves. If the Head of Government is indolent, so will the public services [be]; if he is corrupt, so will the public service [be]; if he is sadistic and evil, so will the agencies designed for the good and the protection of the populace, turn on the people, and unleash terror and mayhem on them.”
Obasanjo made this statement at the seminar he arranged for permanent secretaries. He promised more of the same for other ranks. “Similar seminars will be organized for other levels of the service to upgrade their skills and make them unlearn the negative lessons of the past decade and a half,” he said. Perhaps at that time Obasanjo hasn’t realized that personal example is better and more effective than a thousand seminars.
By the nature of corruption it is not possible that its perpetrators desist from committing it without the threat and certainty of punishment. To the perpetrator, corruption is profitable; it may appear pleasurable and convenient, being a quick-fix solution that avoids waste of time. It is only the meting up of punishment that is painful, commensurate to the crime and adequately publicized that can stem its tide. And if you spare the rod, you spoil the service. Those who commit acts of corruption and go scot-free thereby become veritable catalysts that fuel further corruption in the land. So long as there are unpunished corrupt persons in our midst, so long will there abound potential perpetrators willing, able and waiting.
While punishing criminal misappropriation is the way to stop it – there is somehow a problem dealing with honesty itself. Our goal is not merely to produce public officers who will not embezzle funds because, in the face of procedure and punishment, effectively there is no chance for them to do so. Our goal is to have a nation of honest men and women. But honesty, unlike criminal misappropriation that can be punished, is not an achievement that can or should be rewarded. It is supposed to be what everybody should be trying to do. And if we begin to reward it, we run the risk of reverting to dishonesty when the reward is withdrawn.
But it can be rewarded indirectly by creating a supportive environment for it to flourish. For a start – and for a finish – the public service must be rebuilt. Let us once again have it as it was – a merit system bubbling with talents and alive and equal to its responsibilities. It should once again be made into a place where aspiring administrators and leaders of men can build lifelong careers unmolested by turbulence of partisan politics.
This is the minimum that any reform programme should aspire to. Unless we are able to do this – recreate the prestige and competence of the past of the service – whatever else we do, we shall only be wasting our time. We would, in effect, be throwing out the baby with the clean water. Because we will not even have taken our bath.
