An irrefutable truth about the generational bad leadership in Nigeria is that it springs from societal moral decay—born out of our cultural values and social ideologies, which have been predominantly eroded by Western culture and negatively influenced by the evil forces of global civilisation. This is why Nigeria is systemically corrupt, and why the thriving corruption of its political and social order does not exist in isolation—because the people are not merely passive, but active enablers of it.

The ordinary citizen may point fingers at politicians, but the bitter truth is that corruption sprouts from the same homes, communities, and institutions that produce both the rulers and the ruled. This is what makes Nigerian society thoroughly politicised, and why the larger population normalises and perpetuates the very rot they complain about: dishonesty, bribery, nepotism, and cutting corners.

Not even our traditional rulers are left out. With their pervasive politicisation and ubiquitous social influence, every appointment, empowerment scheme, and so-called opportunity is seized for personal benefit.

Even in the sacred spaces of religion, patronage and favouritism rule over fairness and justice. Add ethnicism and tribalism to this equation, and corruption deepens its roots like the mighty African Baobab tree. Nigeria becomes a battlefield of divided loyalties, ethnic agendas, and communal interests, where competence and integrity are buried deep beneath the altars of kinship and the shrines of tribal affiliation.

Take the Nigerian Police as an example. It is an institution that mirrors the ethical irresponsibility and institutional decline of the nation. Each President chooses the Inspector General of Police not based on competence, merit, or integrity, but on loyalty. And who better to entrust with blind loyalty than a fellow tribesman who does not deserve the position and dares not risk losing it because of the privilege and power it offers? Such loyalty is never to the Nigerian people—it is to the ruling class, who play decisive roles in endorsing, recommending, and installing their own.

This is why the police force and every other government institution, including the military have deteriorated. Such appointments consolidate power at the top while weakening the institution at the bottom. Without accountability and transparency, the system rots—an absolute decay. What emerges is what I call Jumble Institutionalism: the dysfunctionality of a unified organisation that was established for a specific purpose but has been balkanised by incompetent leadership, and stripped of hierarchy, structure, and a sense of purpose.

In the police, military, health and education sectors, promotions, benefits, and empowerment are not earned by merit or service. They are distributed preferentially, decided by who you know, not your experience or achievement. The result? An institution without respect, without order, legality, decorum, decency and honesty. The public institutions that should symbolise justice instead become the dwelling place of oppression and domicile of corruption.

And we wonder why corruption can never be rooted out of our public institutions. Why have terrorism, ethno-religious violence, banditry, kidnappings, political violence, state violence, organised crime killings, and communal crises become the order of the day since the administration of Muhammadu Buhari?

Worse still, when these public officials underperform, we keep quiet. The economy collapses, yet the Minister of Finance remains in office. There is insecurity everywhere, yet the Minister of Defence and the Chiefs of Army Staff continue to draw salaries while signing off billions in contracts for weapons that never curb insecurity.

Inflation rages, yet the Governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria clings to his position without accountability, without press briefings, without answering for his incompetence. And Nigerians? We look away. We do not pay attention to what happens in the national assembly—particularly the bills, laws, taxes, budgets and presidential policies that shape our lives, cripple economic growth, and stifle businesses. We only react when the news makes the headlines, when the damage is already done and beyond repair.

Tell me: why should we not be able to resist the imposition of ineligible public servants by the President, Governors, Service Chiefs, or local government chairmen? Why has it become impossible for us to stand up against the gross mismanagement of public office and the blatant abuse of power? Why do we remain silent and passive, letting politicians thrive on corruption, oppression, nepotism, and cronyism?

The owing of workers’ salaries—the underfunding of health and education—endless loans from international organisations—reckless spending and senseless economic expenditure—lawlessness and impunity that force people into early retirement, simply to favour tribal members.

So who will fight for us, protect our freedom, and defend our fundamental human rights? Certainly not those who never merited their offices and cannot go against the establishment that favours them or the masters who put them there. And definitely not the individuals we have allowed the system to wrestle power away from.

How many more families must be sacrificed before Nigerians awaken to their conscience? How many more injustices must we endure before we admit that Nigeria is at war with its own people? When are we going to reform our values and realign our priorities? When will our society recommit to truth, justice, and integrity? Or for how long are we going to remain indifferent to the unfairness, misgovernance and insensitivity of our public officers?

Morally conscious individuals are not righteous simply because they cannot be corrupted; they are righteous and incorruptible because they uncompromisingly refuse any form of corruption. When people refuse to fight against corruption and oppression, they are destined to suffer under the brute force of injustice, while those in power thrive on their complacency, submission, and docility.

When oppressive leaders are allowed to get away with atrocities, tyranny is not an accident—it is either by consent, or it is by choice. And if Nigerians continue to accept injustice, then we must admit the bitter truth: we do not merely have the leaders we are given; we have the leaders we deserve, and that is the costly price for passive citizenship.
Isogun wrote from Lagos.