“The man who removes a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.” — Lao Tzu
“You are under arrest for urinating in public,” barked the police officer.
“What do you mean? Am I not urinating in the drain?
“Sir, respect yourself! The drain is for rainwater, not your urine.
“Is urine not made of water? What kind of harassment is this?
“Sir, you have contravened the fifth pillar of the War Against Indiscipline (WAI). You will have to follow me to the mobile court down the street…”
That was how a well-known landlord and socialite was dragged before the mobile court and fined a whopping sum of N500 for ‘pissing.’
WAI
It all happened in 1985. At that time, we used to explain to those who felt that WAI was too harsh that we had very efficient sanitary inspectors (called wolewole) in the First Republic who poked their noses into everything—from the pit latrines at the backyard to the pot of soup in the kitchen.
WAI continued the good work started by the various departments of the environment before we relapsed into our riotous ways, to the extent that today we are well known for our commitment to disorderliness, tardiness, chauvinism, corruption, and unpatriotic behaviour. That landlord mentioned above could urinate and defecate on the Third Mainland Bridge today, and nothing would happen!
This is August 2026. We are on the threshold of election campaigns and the war of the alphabets. All the politicians, no matter their political persuasion, will hawk a commodity called hope from one state to the other. AAA, APC, ADC, PDP, NDC, LP, SDP, and YPP will ‘toast’ the people like contending suitors—then elections, declaration of results, disputations, litigation, swearing-in. And the beat goes on.
I love Nigeria. It is one of the places with the greatest potential on the planet. However, it is also peopled by a vibrant species that easily slips into dysfunction unless shepherded by a combination of laws and measures. If we don’t press the reset button and return to the basics, the entrenched quicksands in the system will hamper progress, and we will continue to blunder our way from regime to regime, no matter who wins the forthcoming election and the next one and the next.
6-Year Presidency
If I had a say in the matter, the constitution would be amended to make the Nigerian president serve for a single six-year term (as suggested by President Jonathan about 12 years ago). The current 4+4 gambit is a swindle. Most elected politicians spend the first year learning the ropes, the next two years in actual governance, and the last year on the campaign trail to plot their return for a second term. The total number of years devoted to actual governance in the two terms is four—or less!
A single term of six years will ensure that the president concentrates on governance from Day One, knowing that he has only one chance to make an impact.
Nigerians are so fired up now that any suggestion on presidential tenure is bound to be treated with derision by both sides of the aisle. And those who reduce every intellectual discussion to the mercantile lingo of Naira and kobo are bound to swear that they were there when the suggester was offered billions of Naira to campaign for an extension of the president’s tenure.
Whatever we choose to do, we are running out of time in designing and enforcing a workable system. In Nigeria, changing specific widespread behaviours—across civic life, institutions, and community interactions—is essential for sustained national growth and social trust.
