By Senator Babafemi Ojudu, CON
CONDUCT AN unscheduled search of most civil servants in Nigeria—federal or state—and you’re likely to uncover a stash of registered companies tucked away in drawers or digital files.
From junior desk officers to procurement directors and permanent secretaries, many of them own multiple companies, each carefully graded and categorized for different kinds of government contracts.
These are the companies they quietly promote whenever a public contract comes up—whether it’s for construction, procurement, or routine supplies.
The corruption-proof systems painstakingly established by our colonial predecessors have been discarded without ceremony. Today, public procurement is no longer a safeguard of accountability; it has become a charade.
So, the next time you see a government project advertised and are invited to bid, save your time and your money—the winner has already been chosen.
What you see in the newspapers is merely a ritual, a hollow performance of “due process.” Worse still, it’s a scam because you will lose your hard-earned money while playing a game rigged from the start.
Even more disturbing is how far the abuse has evolved. In many instances, as soon as a contract is awarded, a letter of completion is issued—before a single shovel hits the ground. This guarantees the release of the full contract sum long before any work is done. What follows is predictable: abandonment, half-completed projects, and disappearing contractors.
In a functioning democracy, procurement is a cornerstone of public accountability. The process is meant to ensure that public funds are spent judiciously, transparently, and in the best interest of the people. It requires a clear separation of duties—those who award contracts must not be the ones who execute, supervise, or audit them. But in Nigeria today, that line has been dangerously blurred, if not completely erased.
We are now witnessing a troubling trend: the same individuals who issue contracts also award them to themselves, execute them, supervise the execution, and perform oversight on the same work. This is a total collapse of checks and balances in public administration.
I recall visiting a governor who invited me to accompany him on an inspection of a road construction site. Before a cheering crowd, he lashed out at the Lebanese contractor.
“I want this road delivered by Easter! I want to celebrate Easter on this road!” he thundered.
“Ebano!” the people hailed.
“If you fail to deliver, I will terminate the contract, impound your equipment, and have you arrested!”
“Yes, sir,” the contractor replied, visibly shaken. The crowd roared in approval.
That night, I was invited to dinner at the governor’s residence. Seated at the same table was the very same contractor. Over the course of the evening, I learned the truth: the “contractor” was actually a member of the governor’s staff. The company executing the project belonged to the governor himself.
What does this mean for our country?
It means corruption has been institutionalized. When the contractor is also the regulator, there is no incentive for quality, transparency, or accountability. Projects are inflated to enrich insiders. Poor or non-existent work is certified as complete. Reports are manipulated, audits buried, and public funds vanish into private hands—with no consequence.
The evidence is everywhere: abandoned roads, phantom health centers, dry water systems, ghost schools, and overpriced supplies that never reach the people. Oversight institutions—ministries, procurement bureaus, audit offices, even legislative committees—are either compromised or sidelined.
I know a state where the governor secured a massive loan and generous grant to overhaul the water infrastructure. The only visible result? A grand building called Water House—a monument to failure. Not a single drop of water flows to the people.
I, too, have been a victim. As a senator, I nominated a constituency project to benefit my community. The supervising ministry awarded the contract to its cronies, issued letters of completion without execution, shared the funds—and the so-called contractors vanished.
This is not mere incompetence. It is a carefully orchestrated scheme. By concentrating the powers of procurement, implementation, and oversight in the hands of a few, a corrupt elite has hijacked governance itself.
