The institutionalisation of things ensures that a nation’s ways of life are not left to the interpretation of those whose opinions are presumed to carry more weight than others. Unfortunately, it seems that we have deliberately converted our national standards to a permissive regime with no exactitude in the manner of doing things. There are no standards. Nothing is guaranteed until a powerful voice says what it is.
The permissive society we have created has also provided escape routes for us to engage in our variable definitions of reality. Because everything depends on how we view them, we rely more on our frames of issues than a formalised or institutionalised way of interpreting issues. Like the third umpire in the quote above, we know that in all cases, “Some is strikes and some is balls, but they ain’t nothing until I calls them.”
A wrong may not be a wrong until someone says it is or is not. Whether that voice is acceptable or not also depends on whose it is. So, we witness situations where two similar acts receive different interpretations: one is judged a criminal act and is punished, while the other is winked at and allowed to “jump and pass.” Our elastic institutional arrangements thus provide leeway that makes possible variable interpretations that otherwise should attract similar judgments.
This explains why a government official at the top who is accused of stealing public funds would reach out to his or her ethnic/regional roots. His report to his support base would not be that he has stollen the funds kept under his care; rather, he would frame his case as persecution because of his tribe or religion, or the part of the state he hails from, but not as prosecution for what he did.
Such officials would mobilise their support base and ask them whether they would fold their hands and watch their person get victimised. So, an accusation for wrongdoing, seen through the tribal or ethnic prism, transmutes to victimisation or witch hunt as it is presented.
Declaration of ‘decade of institutionalisation’
The time has come for Nigerians to decide on the type of Nigeria they want. That means it is time to launch a sustainable programme of social mobilisation, with the target of institutionalising change that will produce the Nigeria of our dreams.
In doing so, cognisance must be taken of previously failed attempts, with lessons drawn from the reasons for their failure. Nigeria has experimented with several formulas for social mobilisation to induce change and compliance with rules and regulations by the citizens.
Many Nigerians still remember WAI – War Against Indiscipline. It was arguably the face of the Buhari-Idiagbon Regime of December 31, 1983, to August 1985. WAI was designed to whip Nigerians into compliance with a new code of behaviour. Those who still remember it know it was designed as a system of coercion. Military men brutalised Nigerians across the country. The programme aimed to enforce orderliness and work ethic, as they tried to enforce orderliness, promote national unity among Nigerians, and fight crime and corruption, among others.
We also had MAMSER – Mass Mobilisation for Self-Reliance, Social Justice, and Economic Recovery. Launched by the General Ibrahim Babangida regime on July 25, 1987, it was a replacement of WAI but devoid of the brutality associated with WAI. MAMSER’s objectives included the propagation of the need to eschew all vices in public life, inclusive of corruption, dishonesty, electoral and census malpractices, ethnic and religious bigotry; shed all pretence of affluence in Nigerian lifestyle; re-orient Nigerians to shun waste and vanity; inculcate in Nigerians a dependence towards locally made goods and mobilise Nigerians to participate in elections and political debates, among others.
The above movements failed because of their inherent defects. They were not planned to last. Take WAI, for instance. Perhaps the only reminiscence that those who witnessed it have now is the dehumanisation of Nigerians by Buhari’s soldiers. Brutal force cannot endure as a means of socialisation for a nation. There was no iota of innovation in it, so it could not easily diffuse into the fabric of Nigerian society.
These facts marked the major defect of WAI, and to an extent, MAMSER, as change processes. Nigerians could not relate to the programmes. This eroded another critical element of institutionalisaiton, which we have already noted earlier: habituation. They had no institutional base. Innovation must be made to diffuse into the entire society for it to be accepted rather than being forced down the citizens’ throats.
Call a spade a spade
The book, ‘When Stocks Got Stuck’ by Vincent Nwanma offers a formula for institutional effectiveness: “Today, one of the prescriptions for curbing executive excesses and strengthening public policymaking is to build strong institutions rather than strong individuals. While individuals come and go, even if they hold offices for life, institutions remain.” The term “executive” here refers to anyone who occupies a position of influence, from the presidency to governorship, as well as the leadership of the National and State Assemblies. It also includes leaders of regulatory agencies across the country’s economic and political landscapes. We must seek ways to return our institutions to effectiveness by delinking them from the paralysing influence of office holders.
Nigeria cannot continue to hurt for much longer. The citizens must learn to do what they talk about: call a spade a spade. It is unlikely that the nation will make progress in its national development unless it prioritises the role of institutions in nation-building.
The country must define what it wants to achieve in this regard. Building strong institutions is no longer a debate in the policy space. There is no substitute to a wholesale reform of the country’s public policy arena to achieve a turnaround in the country’s fortunes. To achieve that, we must answer the question: What type of Nigeria do we want?
