By : PETER B. OGBOBINE, Esq .
There is a country called Nigeria with a very high-class political restaurant, where the du jour contains only one item: “ National Cake—All You Can Chop.” Everything else—manifestos (if any), ideology (if any), governance (if any), patriotism (only when it comes to football and the Green Eagles—or is it the Super Eagles?)—is merely garnish on a mountain of self-service governance.
This phenomenon is known as Prebendalism—a term popularised by political scientist Richard Joseph in his book “The Rise and Fall of the Second Republic ” (1987) while studying Nigeria. Yes, o bro, Nigeria is indeed a case study in whatever one wishes to study. “We get am.” As Warri pidgin colloquialism would say “for dis e corner we dey there, for dat e corner, we det there” —bring it on.
Prebendalism is a system where public office is treated as a source of personal revenue to be distributed among one’s loyal followers: relatives, politicians, village elders, old school chums and the spiritual pastors and alfas who claim to have dreamt the election results in advance. It is “ Na our turn to chop”- don begin.
Politicians approach power not as custodians of the national interest, but as vultures arriving to clear the carcass left by the previous government’s hyenas. They scan the budgetary system for new recipes to restart the weary cycle of “ turn-by-turn ” chopping all over again. The rationale is simple: the moment the boondoggling politician takes the oath of office—usually with one hand on a holy book and the other already reaching for the proverbial cake—they become a self-styled panjandrum and conduit for their cohorts. Governance ceases to be about development and becomes about the distribution of spoils. The mandate is clear: “ “You don enter now. Our leader, I beg remember your people, o.”
Public office is a personal entitlement – creation of a fiefdom of matured and subservient almajiris. Politicians often view government positions as assets to be exploited for personal gain or to distribute resources—contracts, jobs, favors—to supporters, ethnic groups, and political allies. I remember vividly how Abuja and government largesse were flaunted by a certain ethnic group from Southern Nigeria when their prebend occupied the presidency—same for the North immediately after that. Now it is the turn of the West. What about us, the East would shout?
The most interesting feature of prebendalism, however, is that almost everyone condemns it. Nigerians have criticised it with impressive eloquence—yet if their cousin suddenly becomes commissioner, they quickly discover the moral virtue of “ brother/sister help us with small assistance na.”
Yet prebendalism survives with astonishing resilience because it is not merely a political practice. It is a social contract. Power is valuable because it allows access to resources. Resources are valuable because they can be shared with one’s people. And one’s people will support you again so long as the sharing continues.
Within the entrenched web of tribal loyalty and social alliances, a close corporate colleague of mine once retorted, when asked why he awarded contracts only to friends and relatives: “ Na my enemy you want make I help?” Furthermore, for any ethnic group currently benefiting from prebendalism, complaining about corruption is considered bad manners. However, if your group is not the one doing the “chopping,” then suddenly it becomes marginalisation—a grave sin, punishable by an endless deluge of protests, petitions, and social media outrage. Prebendalism also works in contradistinction to the above two situations. One remembers vividly the female petroleum minister of southern tribal extraction who was allegedly caught with her hands in the cookie—or oil—barrels, and how her ethnic tribe defended her and are still defending her.
Given the emotional climate of our socio-cultural and economic-political context, please engage in a personal and honest introspection—and ask yourself, as I have done—whether you would not become a prebend if given the opportunity. It is quite safe – especially those who come from a small tribe in term of population – to share the sentiments of my erstwhile corporate colleague.
Therein lies the Nigerian hypocritical psyche when it comes to the eradication of prebendalism.
But the prayer MUST be that as the Nigerian economy evolves with a younger population, and citizens become less patient with transactional leadership, the prebendal feast will lose its charm – international organisations have commended the government with making headway in eradication whilst internally the castigation goes on.
However, until then, the Republic will continue its great pastime: electing chefs whose first duty is not to cook, but to distribute plates of our common patrimony as crude oiled jollof rice to their cohorts.
pbbine@gmail.com
