Nigeria today labours under a quiet but corrosive crisis: a reign of impunity that has seeped into politics, religion, culture, business, and even private relationships. It is not merely that wrongdoing occurs—every society contends with crime and moral failure—but that wrongdoing is explained away, justified, celebrated, or ignored. Evil no longer hides. It performs openly, confident that nothing will follow. In the political space, individuals loot public resources with breathtaking boldness. Due process is treated as an inconvenience. Institutions meant to enforce quality assurance, accountability, and the rule of law are weakened or compromised. Politicians are no longer public servants; they are worshipped like deities. Their wealth, often of questionable origin, is paraded as proof of divine favour. Convoys replace characters. Luxury becomes legitimacy. Followers gather like flies around abundance, not asking how it was made, only hoping some crumbs will fall.
This worship is dangerous. When citizens suspend conscience for patronage, they become accomplices. When sycophants defend the indefensible, impunity gains a human shield. The loyalist who claps for corruption today will cry tomorrow when the system devours him. History has never been kind to professional praise-singers. In the economic sphere, employers and entrepreneurs frequently breach contracts, neglect appointments, and exploit labour under the excuse of “hustle culture”. Workers are used to achieve ends and discarded without dignity. Promises mean little. Integrity is optional. Yet the same society prays for prosperity without justice, growth without structure, and blessing without order.
Religion, which should be society’s moral conscience, has not escaped contamination. Many religious leaders speak with the lips of God while walking in darkness. The pursuit of power, relevance, and influence has pushed some into questionable spiritual alliances, double-speaking altars, and theatrical righteousness. Congregations are fed words while character starves. When faith becomes a performance and not a discipline, it produces noise, not light. It is therefore not surprising that some pastors have been banned from public preaching—not because truth is unwelcome, but because hypocrisy has consequences.
Socially, relationships are increasingly transactional and distorted. Love is confused with leverage. Bodies are traded for access. Manipulation, seduction, and emotional exploitation masquerade as romance. Marriages suffer under gaslighting, infidelity, and the quiet erosion of trust. Authority is mocked, commitment is treated as imprisonment, and responsibility is postponed indefinitely. The matrimonial bed, once sacred, is casually defiled in pursuit of status or convenience.
Culturally, darker practices persist beneath modern appearances. Rituals, sacrifices, incantations, and spiritual attacks are still deployed against perceived enemies. The recent actions of the Anambra State Government under Governor Prof. Chukwuma Charles Soludo—detaining notorious native doctors and confronting ritual violence—highlight how deeply rooted these practices remain. A society cannot claim enlightenment while secretly consulting darkness. Progress cannot coexist with blood-stained shortcuts. Even in Enugu State, people disguise themselves in masquerade uniforms while celebrating festivals, feasts or ancestors to stab, maim or injure rivals – enemies perceived to be more successful than them.
Even the youth are not spared. Many young girls, instead of developing skills, character, and intellectual capacity, are pressured—or choose—to measure worth by social media validation, hookups, and fleeting attention. Platforms designed for connection have become marketplaces of the self. This is not empowerment; it is exploitation disguised as freedom. At the heart of all this is complacency. Nigerians have become too skilled at explaining away evil. “That’s how the system works.” “Everyone does it.” “If you don’t do it, someone else will.” These statements are not wisdom; they are surrender. A nation that normalises wrongdoing will eventually lose the moral language to challenge it.
Change, therefore, is not optional. It is the only permanent thing in life. To keep doing the same things, celebrating corruption, rewarding sycophancy, excusing exploitation, and expecting a different outcome is not optimism; it is insanity. Systems do not heal themselves. Cultures do not reform by accident. Transformation begins when individuals withdraw their consent from evil. This is a word of caution to sycophants and loyalists who mastermind impunity: history does not remember you kindly. When the tide turns—and it always does—your loyalty will not save you. Power is transient. Truth is not.
Nigeria does not lack intelligence, faith, or resources. What it lacks is courage—the courage to say no, to demand better, to refuse participation in decay. Change will hurt. Accountability will inconvenience many. A nation that celebrates hoodlums and negotiates with bandits and terrorists, even criminals, would never remain on the path of peace and progress. That culture and attitude must change lest the nation continue to bleed quietly. The choice before us is stark: reform or rot. And history is already taking notes.
Obiotika Wilfred Toochukwu; Living Grace Restoration Assembly Inc. Nkono-Ekwulobia, Anambra State.
