VALUE EROSION: NIGERIA’S GREATEST CHALLENGE
Nigerians are becoming less capable of being shocked by wrongdoing, argues GODWIN SOGOLO
Toward the close of the last century, much of the world had already begun to turn its back on socialist ideology. Understandably, therefore, university curricula in much of the Western world paid insufficient attention to the Marxist dictum: “Philosophers have only interpreted the world, in various ways; the point, however, is to change it” — a call for praxis, understood as the integration of theory and practice in the pursuit of social change.
At the University of Ibadan, from the 1960s through the 1990s, we taught the philosophy of values to undergraduates, primarily explaining the nature and functions of moral values in human society. We did not, however, place sufficient emphasis on the practical means of cultivating sound moral values and transmitting them from one generation to the next. In retrospect, this was a significant limitation: knowing what moral values are does not necessarily teach people how to live by them or how to sustain them within society.
The failure of the Nigerian educational system has been further exacerbated by the growing emphasis on monetary acquisition. Before Nigerian socialists of the immediate post-colonial era faded into oblivion, they had warned against the dangers of excessive wealth accumulation, particularly the ways in which the relentless pursuit of money could undermine human values and damage social relationships. It is all too evident today that, in Nigeria and, indeed, in much of the world, monetary accumulation has increasingly reduced human worth to economic value, subordinating social and moral considerations to material gain. Money has, in a sense, acquired a power far beyond its practical functions: it has become a measure not merely of economic success, but also of social status and even of human worth. The danger is that the unrestrained pursuit of wealth ultimately alienates people from one another and, more seriously, from their own humanity.
The cumulative effects are now becoming manifest in disturbing and potentially dangerous ways. Rather than retaining their enduring character as foundations of human dignity and well-being, moral values have increasingly become a dispensable appendage of Nigerian life.
More disturbing still is the apparent erosion of moral sensitivity itself. Situations that ought to shock the human conscience — torture, violence, suffering, greed, insatiable acquisitiveness, and other manifestations of evil — are increasingly met with indifference rather than moral outrage. What ought to be regarded as abnormal, offensive and deeply disturbing is gradually being accepted as normal and ordinary.
The danger, therefore, is not merely that Nigerians are violating moral values; it is that we are progressively losing the capacity to be morally appalled by their violation. The natural flow of human sympathy is drying up, while moral apathy is becoming increasingly normal. When a society reaches the point at which suffering no longer disturbs, cruelty no longer shocks, and greed no longer offends the conscience, the problem is no longer simply a decline in moral conduct; it is a deeper erosion of the moral sensibility through which human beings recognise, condemn and resist evil.
Historically, very few societies are known to have survived without moral values. In the 1970s, the British social anthropologist Colin Turnbull documented what appeared to be a rare and disturbing case in his seminal book, The Mountain People (Simon & Schuster, New York, 1972). His study of the Ik community of northern Uganda suggested that, under conditions of extreme scarcity and deprivation, the Ik had largely dispensed with the moral sentiments that ordinarily regulate human social relations. Even filial attachment and the reciprocal flow of affection, according to Turnbull, appeared to have virtually disappeared as recognised human sentiments. A mother, for instance, could snatch food from the mouth of her starving infant. In short, the Ik had ceased to extend altruistic consideration to one another: they gave none and expected none from others.
Is Nigeria drifting towards a Hobbesian state of nature, in which self-preservation becomes the overriding principle of human conduct? The question is no longer merely theoretical. There was a time when certain events and forms of conduct would have provoked widespread shock, condemnation and moral outrage. Increasingly, however, what was once regarded as abnormal and intolerable appears to be losing its capacity to shock us.
Consider the following:
(1) If a principal officer, such as the Bursar of a major national institution like the National Open University of Nigeria, were brutally killed by bandits, the incident would once have been perceived as a national tragedy, attracting widespread public outrage and official concern. Yet when such an incident occurred on September 6th 2026, in Zamfara State, to Mallam Nasiru Gusau Marafa, it passed with remarkably little public attention.
(2) The kidnapping of schoolchildren and their teachers, professors, lawyers, doctors, traditional rulers, politicians, prominent businesspeople and other notable Nigerians would once have dominated the national headlines. Today, such incidents increasingly appear to have become routine, receiving attention only briefly before being displaced by the next disturbing event.
(3) The alleged abduction of a father by his own son’s kidnapping gang for ransom would once have been regarded as almost beyond belief — a shocking violation of the most basic bonds of family and trust. Today, such incidents that would once have been considered unthinkable are increasingly becoming part of our experience.
(4) A father sexually abusing his own teenage daughter would once have been regarded as a terrible abomination, provoking profound moral indignation. Today, even such horrifying incidents do not always generate the degree of public outrage that their gravity demands.
(5) Parents once chastised children who became involved in examination malpractice. Today, there are cases in which parents not only secretly connive with their children, but actively facilitate or even plan examination malpractice with them. The moral lesson has consequently been reversed: conduct that parents once condemned is, in some instances, being treated as a legitimate means of securing success.
(6) Politicians once planned election rigging covertly, or at least attempted to conceal it. Today, electoral manipulation, including vote-buying, is increasingly carried out openly and sometimes rationalised on the cynical premise that “in politics, all is fair.” The attempt to normalise vote-buying by presenting it as a global phenomenon only illustrates the extent to which practices once regarded as morally reprehensible are now being defended rather than condemned.
(7) Nigerian politicians once at least attempted to defend themselves against allegations of corruption. Increasingly, however, corruption itself appears to have acquired a partisan definition. A politician regarded as corrupt while belonging to an opposition party may suddenly be treated as acceptable — or even celebrated — after defecting to the ruling party. In this strange moral calculus, the political party to which a person belongs can determine whether conduct is condemned as corruption or excused as politics.
(8) Moderation was once regarded as a virtue among Nigerians, including members of the political class. There was a time when excessive greed and the relentless pursuit of money and material possessions — billions of naira, luxury vehicles, mansions, estates and other forms of conspicuous acquisition far beyond the reasonable needs of a single lifetime — would have attracted moral criticism. Today, the accumulation of extraordinary wealth is increasingly presented as evidence of success, regardless of how it was acquired or whether it bears any reasonable relationship to the legitimate needs of its possessor.
Taken together, these developments raise a disturbing question. Are we merely witnessing an increase in immoral conduct, or are we witnessing something deeper — the gradual erosion of the moral restraints that make social life possible? In a Hobbesian state of nature, where the preservation of one’s own life and interests becomes paramount, the bonds of trust, reciprocity and moral obligation are weakened. The danger for Nigeria is that, if self-interest increasingly becomes the dominant principle of conduct, society may retain its institutions in name while progressively losing the moral foundations that give those institutions meaning.
The gravest danger, therefore, may not be that Nigerians have become more willing to do wrong. It is that we are becoming less capable of being shocked by wrongdoing. When cruelty ceases to shock, corruption ceases to offend, greed ceases to embarrass, and the suffering of others ceases to disturb the conscience, society has crossed a dangerous moral threshold.
Sogolo is an Emeritus Professor who has taught and conducted research in Philosophy for over five decades – at the University of Ibadan, Cardiff University of Wales and currently at the National Open University of Nigeria. He also served as a member of the Editorial Board of The Guardian Newspapers in the 1980s and 1990s.
Letter
NIGERIA AND MACABRE CYCLE OF COUNTING CORPSES
A country gradually dies when its most vulnerable citizens are allowed to die with neither consequences nor repercussions. In a case that has sent shockwaves through Nigeria, about 37 miners have died in custody after they were arrested and detained by the Nigeria Civil Defence and Security Corps, Niger State command. With official clarification bound to take forever in typical Nigerian fashion, the rumor mill has charged into overdrive. Suffocation as well as torture has been mooted, together with the claim that the young men died when a noxious chemical was sprayed in the cell where they were held.
Whatever the cause, their death is another damning confirmation of living in Nigeria and the execrable excesses of those charged with the security of Nigerian lives and property.
Multiple times every year, innocent and vulnerable Nigerians lose their lives at the hands of overzealous security personnel. Whether they are shot or die from torture or poor handling in custody, it has become common to equate invitation and detention of Nigerians by security agencies to a death sentence.
This sobering reality invites an inquiry into custodial conditions in Nigeria. While it has long been common knowledge that many detention facilities in Nigeria are unfit even to hold animals, the Nigerian state simply refuses to do anything about it.
Corrupt Nigerian officials prefer to loot public funds while Nigerians who fall into the hands of renegade and rogue security agencies are detained in conditions that even animals would balk at. More often than not, this results in death or lifelong psychological scarring. Any other country would commission an independent and impartial inquiry into this heinous incident of deadly negligence by the NSCDC in Minna, and citizens, though traumatized, would await the outcome of the investigation, knowing that heads will roll. But not Nigeria, where life loses value by the day.
Shockingly, a country whose young people are brimming with tenacity and talent is serving them graves instead of opportunities. What has not happened to young people in Nigeria? Would Nigerians forget this too after a while? Will this case, like similar others, find a final resting place under the carpet as these young men have found in mysterious circumstances?
There is no greater measure of a country’s values and sense of direction than the worth it attaches to human life and dignity. When there is maximum respect for human life and dignity, it reflects in everything else. Are some Nigerian lives worth any less because they are probably uneducated or engaged in illegal mining? What happened to the constitution that preserves life and spells out the stringent conditions only under which it can be taken?
Let anyone who has been searching for that country where life is cheaper than table salt look no further; that country is Nigeria.
While nothing can be done to bring back the dead, if Nigeria characteristically ignores the lessons from another dark episode, it will remain locked in a macabre cycle of counting corpses.
Ike Willie-Nwobu,
