The Faces of Political Vandalism
In the first part of this series, we defined political vandalism as the reckless destruction of systems, institutions, and values that should serve the public good. It is more than corruption; it is the systematic tearing down of the very foundations on which development depends.
But how exactly does this vandalism show itself? Nigeria has seen it in multiple faces — economic, institutional, and cultural. Each of these has played a role in dragging the country away from its true potential.
Economic vandalism is perhaps the most visible. Nigeria is blessed with vast oil and gas reserves, fertile land, and a youthful population. Yet instead of turning these resources into long-term wealth, the country has repeatedly squandered them. During the oil boom of the 1970s, billions of petrodollars poured into the treasury. Rather than invest in infrastructure, manufacturing, or education, much of it was wasted on white-elephant projects and outright looting. General Yakubu Gowon’s famous remark that “money is not Nigeria’s problem but how to spend it” captured the reckless mood of that era. Projects like the Ajaokuta steel complex, the Oshogbo machine tools industry, and numerous car assembly plants — all conceived as springboards to industrialization — were abandoned or mismanaged. Each abandoned project represents an act of vandalism against the future.
Institutional vandalism is another face of the problem. At independence, Nigeria inherited one of the strongest civil services in Africa, modeled on the British system. It was efficient, disciplined, and merit-based. But decades of political interference eroded its credibility. Recruitment became politicized, promotions were tied to loyalty rather than competence, and the service lost its culture of excellence. The judiciary, which should be the guardian of justice, has not been spared. Corruption, conflicting judgments, and political manipulation have weakened public confidence in the courts. Universities, once vibrant centers of research and scholarship, now struggle under strikes, underfunding, and neglect. These institutions, once the pride of Nigeria, have been vandalized by careless politics.
Cultural vandalism is more subtle but equally destructive. Over time, Nigerian politics has normalized dishonesty, mediocrity, and the celebration of wealth without accountability. Meritocracy has been replaced with patronage, and public office has become a path to private enrichment. The result is a society where many young people see politics not as service but as the fastest route to wealth. When corruption becomes culture, it stops being seen as a crime and starts being seen as a norm. That is cultural vandalism — the destruction of values that sustain a healthy society.
The tragedy is that these forms of vandalism reinforce one another. Economic vandalism weakens institutions; weak institutions encourage cultural decay; cultural decay, in turn, normalizes further economic waste. It becomes a cycle of destruction, leaving Nigeria poorer, weaker, and more divided.
Other nations have faced similar temptations but found ways to avoid vandalizing their future. Norway, for example, discovered oil around the same time as Nigeria. Instead of wasting the revenue, it established a sovereign wealth fund that now secures its economy for generations. Singapore, with fewer natural resources than Lagos State, invested in human capital, built strong institutions, and established a political culture that prizes service. The difference is that they resisted the urge to vandalize their own foundations.
Nigeria’s story could have been different. The resources are there, the talent is there, and the potential is undeniable. But political vandalism has consistently robbed the country of progress.
As we move to the final part of this series, we must ask: how can Nigeria break this cycle of self-destruction? What steps are necessary to stop the vandalism and rebuild the foundations of true development?