PRESIDENT Bola Tinubu hailed the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission on 20 October for securing over 7,000 convictions and recovering assets exceeding N500 billion in two years under his watch.
The agency’s chairman, Ola Olukoyede, touted 7,503 convictions, N566 billion and $411 million in recoveries, and 1,502 non-monetary assets seized since his appointment in October 2023. It is a narrative painted in triumphant strokes: economic reforms anchored by anti-corruption zeal.
Yet, such figures ring hollow in a country where corruption is not merely a blemish but is visibly entrenched in virtually all aspects of national life.
Convictions and recoveries are laudable, but their true measure lies in the identities of the culprits, the scale of the net cast, and the unyielding pursuit of justice.
Who are these 7,503 convicts? Are they predominantly petty fraudsters, cyber scammers, and youths clutching laptops in downtown cafes? Or the untouchable titans who siphon billions from public coffers? The EFCC’s report tantalises with numbers but is short on names, leaving the public to wonder if this is genuine housecleaning or mere window dressing.
Consider the toxic reality of Nigerian politics, where allegiance to the ruling party is touted as a potent shield. “Come to APC, and your sins are forgiven,” quipped a party chief, encapsulating a culture where defection dissolves tainted dossiers.
What manner of anti-corruption crusade thrives in such fertile ground for impunity? The EFCC’s vaunted successes falter when juxtaposed against bungled high-stakes prosecutions. Several former state governors have slipped through the cracks via procedural sleights of hand and cover-ups. In many cases, it was plain incompetence.
The ghosts of Joshua Dariye and Jolly Nyame, ex-governors of Plateau and Taraba states, convicted of multimillion-naira frauds, still mock the system.
Pardoned by former President Muhammadu Buhari in 2022 despite EFCC convictions, they were released from prison amid public outrage, their freedom a stark rebuke to accountability. Their cases haunt as symbols of selective mercy, eroding the agency’s moral authority.
The rot extends far beyond state executive greed, permeating the police, universities, and virtually every sector of the economy.
What is the latest on Betta Edu, the sacked Minister of Humanitarian Affairs and Poverty Alleviation, entangled in an alleged N585 million scandal since her January 2024 ouster? Nearly two years on, the EFCC probe lingers in opacity.
The Sambo Dasuki saga—a decade-old case of $2.1 billion in alleged diversions—drags into its 11th year. The Federal High Court, again, adjourned proceedings to October 31, underscoring a lethargic prosecution.
The administration insists it shields no political actor from scrutiny. That claim stands challenged by Yahaya Bello’s alleged N110.4 billion fraud charge. Olukoyede himself, upon assuming office, vowed dramatically: “If I fail to investigate and prosecute Yahaya Bello, I would not have the moral right to prosecute others.”
He threatened resignation if the case faltered. Yet, the ex-governor’s arraignment seems more like a soap opera. Meanwhile, legions of political operatives in government and the legislature strut about freely, their EFCC files gathering dust.
What, then, is the EFCC’s true ledger? Where is the deterrence? Has it plugged leakages from local governments to the federal seat?
In 2024, Nigeria’s 26 score out of 100, ranking 140th out of 180 countries on the Transparency International Corruption Perceptions Index, laid bare the country’s dismal profile.
Corruption might not be receding, but metastasising. “Arrest first, investigate later” has become a doctrine, with cybercafes raided for laptop-toting teens while oligarchs in agbada evade the dragnet.
Under Olusegun Obasanjo and Nuhu Ribadu, the EFCC wielded considerable clout, toppling giants and instilling fear in the mighty.
Today, its bark is louder than its bite. This is a national tragedy, perpetuating a cycle where the powerful prey unchecked, and the poor are snatched.
To reclaim credibility, the EFCC must transcend mere numbers, prosecuting the untouchables with swift, transparent fury.
It should institute safeguards against unjust pardons and opaque plea bargains; target systemic leaks, not scapegoats. Only then can asset recovery evolve into genuine reform.
