Any
time I write anything that tends to reinforce Western stereotypes
about Africa, I often feel like a child who desecrates its parents’
grave.
At
the same time, I also feel conflicted when I stow our storied
failings away in a closet. At moments when I feel like glossing over
what a famous African poet calls the “open sore” of our
continent, I receive strength from what our elders used to say about
folks who hide their illnesses.
As
a kid, I often heard that a man who hides his ailment ultimately dies
of it. When our elders talked like that they meant sexually
transmitted diseases.
In
my childhood days, the village had a rigid moral code against which
venereal disease was an affront. Folks, especially the youth who
contracted such infections, often preferred to endure the pain and
agony because their illnesses carried a stigma.
As
one genuinely concerned with teaming up with others to find solutions
to the challenges of Africa, I have come to believe that it is better
to bring these disturbing issues to the open rather than surrendering
to a complicit silence.
Also,
I remember that in my growing-up days in the village, shame and
shaming were culturally accepted ways of communal sanction.
If,
for instance, a man was caught stealing yams or vegetables from the
farm of another, the family of the offender took matters into their
hand. Their action enabled them to distance themselves from the crime
of their kin and hence to repair their damaged reputation.
Since
the struggling village had neither police nor prisons, justice,
depending on the nature of the case, was dispensed by family,
village, or clan councils.
If
the case involved theft, for instance, the stolen item was hung on
the neck of the thief. He would then be paraded around the village
while kids, men and women sang derogatory songs and threw filth on
the criminal.
If
the offense was of a grim nature like murder, then a more severe form
of punishment other than shaming was meted out.
In
that instance, the village or clan council took over the proceedings.
Punishment for murder was often capital. Here again, family or
extended family members played an active role in executing the
criminal. After a jury of village elders had carefully studied the evidence and
decided on a guilty verdict, family members would lead the action
against the offender.
The
village or clan would rely on family members to turn in the criminal.
The family would lure their kinsman to the village square at night.
Once there, they were draw their knives and start hacking him down
before others would join in.
The
emphasis was on collective responsibility. If the blood of the dead
man cried from the dust, it would first haunt the relations who
turned him in, convinced that he had wronged the group.
Was
the mode of execution brutal? Of course, and while I make no case for
savage acts, the village’s system of justice made unusual deeds
unattractive.
Ironically
as the police and prisons became commonplace, crime rates also
spiked.
In
the villages everyone knew everyone else. But as people moved into
cities they became faceless. Shaming lost its restraining hold on
criminals.
In
a ragbag like Nigeria that has been forged by a colonial power
without regard to whether the people had any shared culture,
belonging, or history, the arbitrarily lumped tribes frequently
contest the statehood while reserving their allegiance to their
tribes.
This
explains why impunity has gone berserk in the country. Thugs who
muscle their way into political positions use their authority as
license to brazenly loot state funds and bizarrely sabotage the
state. Once they slink back safely to their tribes, they are received with
standing ovation and ululations. Instead of being shamed as in the
past, they are rewarded with chieftaincy titles, beautiful women, and
powers of life and death over anyone who dare call them by what they
really are — crooks!
Men
and woman whose faces have been licked by slum dogs have no room for
shame.
But
the rest of the world cannot afford to look on unconcerned. Planes
from these morbidly corrupt countries routinely fall off the skies
like chaff buffeted and strewn about by storm. Anyone, just about
anyone, could be an unfortunate victim of these crooked countries.
A
tourist could get ill at a tourist destination and instead of being
treated gets killed by a doctor who cheated his way through medical
school in countries where corruption is norm.
Statistics
of road fatalities in Nigeria is numbing. Inferior materials are
often used in road construction here when roads are built at all.
In
other sectors of the economy — education and health, for
example — the story is just as grim. The Secretary of Education
and other school authorities such as college presidents, deans of
faculties and heads of departments have no qualms walking away with
monies originally voted to improve quality in schools and colleges.
That
is why in these institutions the struggle to corner these positions
often get as violent as elections in the larger society where
bloodthirsty thugs rule the turf.
In
the military the story is as murky and it is distasteful. Generals
shortchange their officers and men. This readily explains why
barefoot, ragtag Muslim fundamentalists in Nigeria slaughter soldiers
as wanton boys do flies. While the insurgents are armed with
precision missiles, soldiers fight with rusty and impaired weapons.
Humanity
needs to work concertedly against challenges posed to world security
by the dumb orgies of corrupt nations.
In
this the United States is leading the way. Its refusal to continue to
buy oil from Nigeria is a step in the right direction. Nations that
ride roughshod on the welfare of its people deserve to be shamed. Turning
a blind eye on the thriving irrationalities in countries in Africa,
Asia, Middle East and Latin America can only hurt the rest of the
world in the long run.
In
this New Year, one hopes that advanced countries will resoundingly
reject the dark reproaches hurled at decency by nations infamous for
corrupt practices. These rogues ought to be disgraced at all fronts
using perhaps a more refined model of shaming that helped to keep
criminal excesses in check in my village.
Imo Ben Eshiet was born in Port Harcourt, Nigeria. Raised in his village, Uruk Enung, and at
several cities in his country including Nsukka, Enugu, Umuahia, Eket and Calabar, Eshiet is a
detribalized Nigerian. Although he was extensively exposed to Western education right from
childhood in his country where he obtained a PhD in English and Literary Studies from the
University of Calabar, he is well nurtured in African history, politics, culture and traditions.
Imo is currently a teacher in the high priests group in the Summit Ward of the Greensboro North
Carolina Stake.