by Osita Abana

I hope that officials who can play a part in cleaning the ‘augean stables’ at the immigration office and other government departments read this piece and take positive action to correct the appalling state of affairs in these offices.

Almost every time  I inform a colleague or relative of my plan to visit a government agency for a transaction like the renewal of drivers’ licence, or International Passport, I’m usually greeted with an all-too-familiar reaction: “oh dear!, I have a colleague whose mother -in-law’s brother works there – I’m sure you’ll need his help” or “hmmmmm, I know some agent who helped my uncle’s son facilitate his transaction, here’s his number –ring him up or brace yourself for a long, long wait at their office”.

One then wonders why it’s not possible to get good service from these agencies without first enlisting the “support” of some “Patron”, often times at a fee. Well, I was educated by a recent experience at the Alausa, Ikeja office of the Nigerian Immigration Service where I had gone to renew my expired International Passport. If you belong to the school of thought that blames for Nigeria’ consistent listing as one of the world’s most corrupt countries on ‘western conspiracy’, just wait till your passport expires.

On approaching the gate of the immigration office, I encountered a gun-toting security guard.“What do you want” he enquired, “I’m here to renew my expired Passport”. “Where is it”?, I handed him my Passport. He thumbed through the pages briskly and passed the passport to a lady standing just outside the gate.  The lady was clearly not an Immigration official as she was in plain-clothes and clutching a pack of recharge cards. From all indications, she was a recharge card vendor. I was stunned. The guard was about to issue instructions to the lady but I cut him short “please can you return my passport”, “haba oga, nothing to worry about, I know what I’m doing” he replied. Adamant, I promptly extracted my passport from the lady and headed for the immigration building, utterly horrified by the episode, but thankful that at least I managed to gain entry in spite of my irreverent treatment of an “O.C”

But more surprises lay ahead. On entering the main building, I had expected to see some kind of ‘Customer Service Desk’ (the sort you have in banks) where I could learn the procedures for renewing an expired passport. If there was any such desk, they did a masterful job of hiding it. So the best bet was to approach immigration officials randomly to make enquiries. Strangely, every officer I engaged was more interested in having a tête-à-tête by the corner. “I can help you; just let me have your details”. But I’m Nigerian enough to know that civil servants are not famous for offering help. Their “help” invariably meant that one would end up paying an amount higher than the official rate. So for every officer that offered to ‘help’, I asked him or her to tell me the total cost for renewing an expired Passport. Now, the answer you get depends on who you ask: “15,000”, “17,000”, “18,500”…etc. A lady officer I asked only answered after playing out some mild drama. As soon as I asked for the controversial figure, she froze and studied me intently as if to determine if the question stemmed from  genuine ignorance (in which case I was fair game – a prospective ‘client’), or a booby trap fashioned to ensnare her. But her sixth sense seemed not to have accurately unravelled my identity; she assumed a more direct approach. Swiftly she ushered me into an adjoining room. “Where do you work”?  she asked. I hesitated while I weighed which would startle her more: The SSS, The Nigerian Army, The High Court, or OPC. In the end I volunteered my real place of work. “Now can I know how much it costs to renew a passport ma”?. She launched a rigmarole clearly intended to impress it on me that processing a renewal without “official support” was an undertaking fraught with enormously complicated intricacies.  And you guessed right, I wasn’t alone, I could observe officers (not touts) “cornering” visitors, delivering their pitches and offering their “support” in exchange for a fee.

Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be cooperating. I was probably the only outraged one in the complex. Indeed a disheartening facet of Nigeria’s malaise is that citizens have become somewhat desensitized to the odium of corruption and slipped into a state of fatalistic despondency. We no longer feel the stab of conscience when a bribe is solicited. Neither do we insist on holding our public officers accountable. In Nigeria, there is a ‘corruption tolerance’ is becoming worryingly pervasive. In fact, not playing ball often means you’re being foolhardy, and unreasonable. But lest I unwittingly blame hapless Nigerians for the rot in our public system, I must hasten to add that the inaction or even silent connivance of those in positions of authority is indeed the trouble with Nigeria. The leadership of government departments like the immigration service and the licensing office (where I also  had not-too-different experience recently) cannot in good conscience claim that they are unaware of the obnoxious wheeling and dealing going on their watch and at the expense of ordinary citizens. Problem is that more time is devoted to side shows like the production of hackneyed anti-corruption jingles (government owned broadcast media seem to have on ‘replay’ mode) than on waging a real fight against corruption in government offices.

I hope that officials who can play a part in cleaning the ‘augean stables’ at the immigration office and other government departments read this piece and take positive action to correct the appalling state of affairs in these offices. Hopefully, by the time I return for another renewal in four years or so, I’ll meet a saner system, and possibly a smiling customer service officer – not a gun-toting security guard and his bizarre acolyte – a recharge card vendor.

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Osita Abana lives in Lagos and is one of the nominees for the 2013 Future Awards Africa.

 

Op-ed pieces and contributions are the opinions of the writers only and do not represent the opinions of Y!/YNaija.