What transformation?

During former President Ibrahim Babangida’s eight-year rule (1985-93), Nigerians became so sick and tired of the phrase ‘green revolution’ that people would prefer never again to see the two words used side-by-side by any political regime.

Indeed, it continues to be rumored that by the time that regime came to an inglorious end in 1993, the only visible ‘green’ it had brought to life was the private golf estate of the military leader, and that the only revolution was the regime’s criminal annulment of the June 12, 1993 general elections, Nigeria’s first free and fair polls.

President Olusegun Obasanjo’s (democratic) adm
inistration also toyed with a galvanizing political phrase, ‘anti-corruption’. But Obasanjo’s ill-fated attempt to perpetuate himself in power by all possible means, including literally forcing a re-write of the country’s constitution to allow him to serve a third term as president, became such a huge political scandal that today, those disdainful antics are among the most common public memories of his tenure.

So it is refreshing – albeit somewhat ominously - to be hearing of President Goodluck Jonathan and his cabinet members describe theirs as the government of ‘transformation’. Indeed, cabinet members readily refer to themselves as the ‘transformation team’.
But what transformation?

Well, not having had the opportunity of scrutinising Jonathan’s pre-election promises to the nation, and not having had the good fortune of finding and downloading the detailed electioneering vision from his or the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) website, I can only comment on the bits that come out every now and then – in speeches by the President and cabinet ministers.

From Trade and Investment Minister Olusegun Aganga, we have learnt that the transformation agenda revolves around good governance, power, security, development of the non-oil sector (manufacturing and solid minerals in particular), investment in infrastructure, education, and anti-corruption.

We also understand from the minister that approximately N35 trillion will be required to deliver on this agenda over the next five years.

It is quite possible that this figure is not a thumb-suck; however, the documents containing the detailed transformation thought, strategy, plan, timeframes and budget are not yet in the public domain. And so, we must keep reading the President’s lips and those of cabinet ministers.

Just last week, the two former presidents mentioned above had a rare moment in the sun. On the pages of newspapers, they spat at each other’s ‘failed’ tenures. Obasanjo accused Babaginda as having presided over the regime that destroyed the hydro-power dams his own administration built in the 1970’s, and blamed Babangida’s ‘maladministration’ for Nigeria’s continued inability to produce more than 4000 megawatts of electricity despite the country’s huge population. For his part, Babangida ridiculed Obasanjo’s self-perpetuation antics referred to above, among other diatribes.

It is, therefore, appropriate that the transformation agenda does prioritise – according to Aganga – the issue of power. We do repeatedly hear of promises to produce 20 000 megawatts by 2020.
Finance Minister, Dr. Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, has equally reiterated the imperative of job creation and the move away from oil dependency. Banking sector reform remains something of a present-continuous affair.

Anyone who has had any meaningful contact with life and politics in Nigeria should not be in doubt about what needs to be transformed. But whether such speculation would be in tandem with the administration’s real intentions – and capability - is another matter.

We do know that from one season of mis-governance to another, Nigeria has finally limped into the league of terrorist countries. Insecurity has been a crucial development issue in Nigeria for decades, but “graduating” into terrorism is a painful loss of innocence indeed (see “Has Nigeria permanently lost her innocence?” IT & Telecom Digest, August 2011). Homeland security is no longer just an “American dream”: it should occupy a top slot in any country’s transformation agenda.

But let me bring into the discussion two issues that seem unlikely to ever be viewed as a ‘transformation’ issues, and yet ought to. I refer here to a sociologically-oriented health sector intervention and public education, and social grant for the aged.

While it is obvious that access to healthcare is a serious problem in Nigeria, what seems to escape the attention of policy makers (and even public commentators, including the media) is the fact that the healthcare vacuum has, in many Nigerian communities, been filled by local beliefs, narratives and practices that further compound the community health challenge.

In many parts of Akwa Ibom state (as perhaps elsewhere in Nigeria), where there are no local medical names for specific illnesses, and where modern healthcare facilities are either unavailable or few and far between, virtually every health condition is given a name that suggests that it is not treatable using modern medical therapies.

In Akwa Ibom, diabetes is called the witch’s enema. (How could anyone be urinating so often unless his or her bladder and bowels had been pumped full of water by witches?) Schizophrenia, epilepsy, typhoid, hypertension, cancer – these and more are all automatically regarded as evidence of witch-attack.

A little known, but profoundly destabilizing, consequence of the dominance of the “witchcraft hypothesis” in the explanation and treatment of health conditions is the proliferation of quack health practitioners and prayer houses, and – worst - the problem of witch hunt. In Akwa Ibom, many communities have been torn apart, as elderly men and women, and even children, are burnt alive because they “possess evil powers”. Communities have become seedbeds of violence and reprisal violence, as a result.

The social fabric of the Nigerian society ails in more ways than one, and a national transformation agenda must somehow be sociological in imagination if it wants to transform anything.

Take the Diaspora “crime and hustling” problem, as another example. A little known angle to this problem, which a transformation agenda can address, is the fact that Nigeria’s “sons and daughters abroad” have become “government” unto their siblings and elderly parents, who almost entirely depend economically on them. The pressure of this dependency has many manifestations, including desperation on the part of the dependants, and criminality on the part of some of those trying to respond to the pressure of dependency.

The Jonathan transformation agenda may be addressing this challenge through its emphasis on job creation for the youths. But it can go a step further by introducing old age pensions and giving it a universal coverage.

Other sources of unnecessary financial pressure – which fuels criminality and widespread social dishonesty in Nigeria - include the two to three year rental advance charged by landlords in Nigerian towns and cities, and the overwhelming “cash economy” problem, where physical cash is carted in huge bags and cartons to pay for even items like a car that could be purchased through simple and affordable monthly instalments linked to people’s salaries.

The whole point of the foregoing is that, seven years from now, Nigerians should not have to look back and curse the day they tolerated a government that everyday spoke of “transformation” and yet failed to deliver in a way that touched the lives of ordinary people.

Now let me make a simple confession: I believe that even Nigeria can be transformed.

Prof. Akpan, is Deputy Dean (Research & Internationalisation), Faculty of School of Social Sciences & Humanities, University of Fort Hare, East London, South Africa