By Abdulrauf Aliyu
In George Orwell’s Animal Farm, the animals overthrew one set of masters believing they were creating a fairer society, only to discover that the new rulers gradually became indistinguishable from the old ones. The faces changed. The slogans changed. The promises changed. But the system remained. The revolution did not destroy the habits of oppression; it merely changed the people benefiting from them. Nigeria has mastered this tragic pattern.
Those celebrating the end of one political era often fail to understand that the problem is rarely only the individuals occupying office. The deeper problem is the system that turns public power into an opportunity for personal enrichment. When one government leaves and another arrives, Nigerians often expect a cleansing of the old order. Instead, they frequently witness a replacement of beneficiaries.
Do not be surprised that when the administration of President Bola Tinubu eventually ends, another group of Nigerians will emerge with stories of extraordinary wealth, questionable acquisitions, and unexplained fortunes. The names will change. The excuses will change. The political slogans will change. But the pattern may remain.
The language has already been established: “Emi lo kan.” It is my turn.
That phrase captures one of Nigeria’s greatest political tragedies. Public office is too often viewed not as a temporary responsibility to serve citizens but as a reward system where one group waits patiently for its opportunity to feed from the state. Yesterday’s victims become tomorrow’s beneficiaries.
Yesterday’s critics become tomorrow’s defenders of the same practices they once condemned. This is why Nigeria is trapped in a recurring cycle.
Frederick Forsyth captured this reality brilliantly in his short story “Clean Sweep Ignatius.” The story explores the frustrations of a society desperate for justice and renewal, yet confronted with the reality that removing individuals does not automatically remove the structures and incentives that produced the problem. Nigeria has repeatedly attempted “clean sweeps,” only to discover that corruption is not merely about corrupt individuals. It is about a system that continuously reproduces them.
We remove one set of actors and replace them with another set waiting for their own opportunity. The broom changes hands, but the sweeping remains incomplete.
The late Nigerian sociologist Peter Ekeh explained this dilemma through his influential concept of the “two publics.” He argued that colonial experience created a separation between the civic public, where people feel obligations to the state, and the primordial public, where loyalty is directed toward ethnic, religious, family, or personal networks. In many ways, Nigeria’s corruption crisis is rooted in this conflict. Many leaders see state resources not as belonging to all citizens but as resources available to reward their own networks. This is why political patronage survives every administration.
The uncomfortable question Nigerians must ask is this: if we condemn corruption only when our opponents are in power but celebrate it when our own people benefit, are we truly fighting corruption or merely waiting for our turn?
A society cannot progress when every generation approaches government as an investment opportunity.
The tragedy is not that politicians want influence. Politics everywhere involves power. The tragedy is that Nigeria has failed to build institutions strong enough to ensure that power serves the public rather than private interests.
Strong societies are not built because they find perfect leaders. They are built because institutions prevent imperfect leaders from destroying them.
Nigeria continues to search for saviours while ignoring the systems that produce failure.
So yes, we will likely witness more “Malamis” in the future. Different names. Different administrations. Different political parties. Similar outcomes.
Unless Nigeria changes the rules of the game, every new government will simply create a new class of beneficiaries.
The question is not who comes next. The question is whether we will continue allowing every generation to say, “It is our turn.”
