...A satirical anatomy of African governance gone rogue
INTRODUCTION: The Gospel According to Lincoln—and Its African Remix
Abraham Lincoln, in his Gettysburg Address of 1863, solemnly proclaimed a revolutionary ideal: “Government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth.” In the century and a half since, the phrase has traversed continents and languages, cited by everyone from revolutionaries to tyrants. In Africa—particularly Nigeria—it has been adopted, rebranded, and refashioned into something quite remarkable: a slogan for systems that paradoxically govern against the people.
Here, democracy is less a form of government and more a theatrical genre—equal parts satire, farce, and soap opera. Public office has evolved from civic duty into a career path for kleptocrats; elections are held not to empower citizens, but to pacify them; and the phrase “for the people” now sounds more like a dare than a promise.
This is not merely a critique—it is a diagnosis, a journey through the grand absurdities and lived tragedies of governance in Africa’s largest democracy, and her neighbours. This is the anatomy of a broken promise.
CHAPTER ONE: Aso Rock—Granite Palace, Paper Governance
Atop the granite hills of Abuja stands Aso Rock, Nigeria’s presidential villa. It is both literal rock and metaphorical fortress—a place from which decrees are issued, budgets are signed, and people are largely ignored. While it boasts the trappings of modern governance—red carpets, coat-of-arms-emblazoned lecterns, bulletproof SUVs—it is strangely insulated from the screams of the people it claims to serve.
Between 2023 and 2024 alone, Nigeria saw a spike in mass kidnappings, including the abduction of over 200 women and children in Borno State. Terrorists roam unbothered, and in some cases, better armed than state security forces. Abuja, meanwhile, remains in a surreal bubble, guarded by elite troops and PR statements.
“Our security situation is under control,” declared a Minister in March 2024, just two days after 60 students were abducted in Kaduna.
No one blinked.
CHAPTER TWO: The Subsidy Scam—Paying for What You Never Get
Fuel subsidies were introduced to ease the burden on Nigerians. Instead, they became the gateway drug for grand corruption. Between 2011 and 2013, over $6 billion was siphoned off in what came to be known as the Petroleum Subsidy Scam, with payments made to companies that imported nothing, delivered nothing, and accounted for nothing.
In 2023, President Bola Tinubu famously announced the removal of the subsidy. Prices skyrocketed. Chaos ensued. But behind closed doors, documents later revealed that subsidies continued under renamed provisions—covert and untraceable.
The real tragedy? There were no arrests. No consequences. The institutions meant to safeguard public wealth stood limp—broken watchdogs in expensive suits.
“If subsidy removal was the cure,” said a petrol station manager in Ibadan, “then corruption must be the chemotherapy killing the patient.”
CHAPTER THREE: Nigeria Air—A Flight of Fancy
In one of the most brazen publicity stunts of recent years, Nigeria Air was re-launched in 2023 with a single plane borrowed from Ethiopian Airlines—painted with Nigerian colours for the ribbon-cutting, then promptly returned after the cameras were gone. The airline had no staff, no office, no aircraft registry, and no real plan.
The House of Representatives launched an investigation and deemed the project “fraudulent.” Yet, like all things in Nigerian politics, the moment passed without consequence. The scandal faded, and those responsible were quietly reassigned—or promoted.
Satirical banner: “Nigeria Air: We aim to fly your money, not you.”
CHAPTER FOUR: Of Ghost Workers and Phantom Reforms
Nigeria’s civil service is not just bloated—it is haunted. A 2022 investigation revealed over 70,000 ghost workers on the federal payroll. These were names with no faces, salaries with no employees, pensions with no retirees.
Efforts to clean the system often result in publicised committees, PowerPoint presentations, and reform slogans. But at the end of the fiscal year, the ghosts still eat.
The true victims? Nurses who wait months for their pay. Teachers who teach without chalk. Doctors who strike while politicians fly to London for check-ups.
CHAPTER FIVE: The Budget Circus—Inflate, Allocate, Escape
The annual Nigerian budget process is a spectacle of excess disguised as deliberation. Constituency projects are padded beyond logic—₦400 million for a borehole, ₦2 billion for “youth empowerment” in a village with no electricity.
In 2016, Rep. Abdulmumin Jibrin exposed ₦481 billion in padded items. His reward? Suspension. The perpetrators? Still in office.
Budget padding is not a flaw in the system—it is the system.
“Nigerian lawmakers legislate not with pens, but with calculators,” remarked a civil society monitor in 2023.
CHAPTER SIX: The Customs Maze and the Ports of No Return
Try importing a container through Lagos Port and see a modern Odyssey unfold. Over 50 checkpoints, dozens of illegal tolls, “facilitation fees,” and mysterious disappearances plague the process. Goods take weeks—or bribes—to clear.
The World Bank ranks Nigeria near the bottom in ease of doing business, yet government officials celebrate “port reforms” with elaborate ceremonies and procurement contracts for biometric scanners that never work.
“Nigerian ports are where goods come to die—or be resurrected at triple the price,” quipped an exporter from Apapa.
CHAPTER SEVEN: The Continental Echo Chamber
Nigeria is not alone. In Equatorial Guinea, Vice President Teodorin Obiang amassed luxury homes, Bugattis, and a crystal-studded glove once owned by Michael Jackson—all on a civil servant’s salary.
In Zambia, Ghana, and Kenya, massive Eurobond borrowings meant to build infrastructure have yielded half-finished rail lines, empty airports, and ballooning debt repayments to China and Western banks.
In Kenya, a railway costing $5 billion ran only 472km. In Zambia, nearly 45% of the national budget in 2024 went to debt servicing.
Yet, every five years, leaders hold elections with glittering manifestos—while hospitals crumble and schools turn to sheds.
CONCLUSION: When Democracy Becomes Performance Art
African democracy today is a hall of mirrors: leaders talk to themselves, hold press conferences for international donors, and perform public accountability like it’s an opera staged for Western diplomats.
The people are not citizens—they are spectators.
The irony? The continent is brimming with youth, talent, and potential. It has thinkers, builders, creators. But without honest leadership, all that potential is funneled into migration, despair, or worse—radicalisation.
The question is not whether African governments can work. The question is whether African leaders are willing to let them.
Pull Quotes for Sidebars:
“In Nigeria, the government is of the people. Just not these people.”
“We run elections like weddings and run governance like divorce settlements.”
“Ghost workers eat. Real workers wait.”
“You don’t need a budget to govern Nigeria. You need connections and a convoy.”
Sources & References
Financial Times (2024): “Nigeria’s kidnapping crisis is a symptom of a failing state.”
Reuters (2024): “How Africa’s debt binge turned into a time bomb.”
Premium Times (2023): “Nigeria Air: House panel says national carrier launch fraudulent.”
Vanguard News (2022): “FG uncovers 70,000 ghost workers on payroll.”
Transparency International: Africa Corruption Perceptions Index.
World Bank Ease of Doing Business Rankings (2020).
