from a disappointing start, the Super Eagles went on to win the 2013 Africa Cup of Nations. Like all Nigerians, I rejoiced. But until.
Until the federal and state governments went – in my opinion – overboard in rewarding the victorious team.
I think we need a public debate on the propriety of lavishing public funds on a football team, in the name of national pride.
So far, we’ve seen the following (government) cash promises: more than N100m from the Federal Government, more than N80m from the Delta State Government, and N54m from the Lagos State Government. I’m sure there are others I’ve missed out.
Is this use of public funds, on this scale, justifiable?
We’re talking about close to $2m on a football team, in a country with these many problems and this little value-driven government attention? It will probably sound like I’m trying to devalue what the Super Eagles have done, but no, that’s not my mission: I’m not a jealous Nigerian venting my frustration on a team for whom some would like to convince us “no reward is too much”.
For me, the ‘naira rain’ on the Eagles is a symptom of something deeper: the disturbing Nigerian attitude to money – public funds; other peoples money. It’s the National Cake mentality – everything exists for sharing. Pay close attention to the language of national conversation, regarding public funds. Every month, the respective state Finance Commissioners go to Abuja to “share” Federation Account Allocation Committee allocation. When the governors go broke, they run to Abuja to put pressure on the President to “share” the Excess Crude Account money. And so the sharing is the real business of government.
It is the same mentality that underlies everything, from the Amnesty programme to land allocations, from oil blocks to C of Os.
Let me not sound naive – I’m totally aware that the Nigerian system runs on the sharing of stupefying amounts of cash and other tangible ‘dividends of democracy’. Yet, even with that awareness, I realise we seem to be trapped with governments for whom there are no limits to excess.
Let’s go back to near the beginning – the oil boom of 1973/74. Nigeria, awash with money, decided to make it rain. The 70s were a Decade of Profligacy. From the Udoji Bonanza, to the cement armada, and to FESTAC 77, that was one crazy decade. But, wait for this. Amidst all that oil wealth sloshing around the country back then, we still greedily accepted huge foreign loans. And so, in 1975, 32-year-old Karl Ziegler, head of First Chicago’s syndicated loans division, offered Nigeria a $1.4 billion loan. We took it. It was, after all, Someone Else’s Money (even if future generations were going to have to pay for it). As Noreena Hertz writes in I.O.U (The debt threat and why we must defuse it), “It was the biggest loan, in fact, that had ever been made to [Nigeria].” More than a quarter of that money went towards the Warri Steel Rolling Mills. You know that story.
Fast-forward to today. Nothing has changed. We’re still sharing the monies – whether earned by oil or taxes or borrowed from outside – and making it rain on all sorts of mind-boggling projects.
The current government is fast establishing a reputation for itself as a profligate government. President Goodluck Jonathan had barely spent three months in office when it emerged that the government had placed an order for three brand new presidential jets, costing $155m. None of the public outcry moved the government. Nigeria, Giant of Africa, as it gleefully likes to refer to itself, apparently always deserves the best money can buy.
In recent months, there have been the following (just a few examples of the government’s priorities): the $100m Vice-Presidential residence; the $25m First Ladies Lodge; and the $9m mausoleum for the late Nnamdi Azikiwe. Every Federal Executive Council meeting brings fresh revelations.
We’re making it rain, all the way.
Our problem is not money, but how to spend it.
When Gen. Yakubu Gowon made that statement 40 years ago, he had no idea it’d take on the notoriety it has now taken. In fairness to him, it wasn’t a defence of recklessness. Gowon made what was an obvious point: that making money was not Nigeria’s problem, but spending it wisely.
In any case, those words ring as true today, as they did back then.
Back to the Eagles. What makes this costly yet cheap show of populism all the more annoying is that it’s coming from a government that didn’t really care about the Eagles ab initio. Going by comments made by coach Stephen Keshi after the win, the team won the AFCON in spite of, and not because of, the government. Now, that same government is playing to the gallery, tossing cash and land and national honours at the players as if it truly loved them. We’re not deceived.
It all boils down to national priorities, of course. No doubt winning the Nations Cup does a great deal of good for national pride and identity and unity, which is a good thing. In a country with the kind of inbuilt frustrations like ours, we deserve every opportunity to cling to some form of pride. But, I’m not convinced anything justifies that kind of spending of public funds on the Super Eagles.
And as someone as asked, if we’re this generous because of the Nations Cup, what will happen when we win the World Cup? My answer: I can imagine the President handing over the keys of the Central Bank to the victorious team.
The truth is, a million Nations Cup victories, important as they might be, will by themselves not do much for us outside of boosting political and national egos and giving us something to unite behind (beyond our shared hatred of the Power Holding Company of Nigeria, Police and the Peoples Democratic Party). Is it Brazil’s status as arguably the world’s greatest footballing nation that earned it a ‘BRIC’ listing, or that powered President Silva Lula’s successful efforts at lifting all those millions of Brazilians out of poverty between 2002 and 2010? What shall it profit a country to win the Nations Cup, and make ambitious plans and boasts for the World Cup, when it can’t even properly run its own domestic league? (As I write this, the Nigerian Premier League has gone two seasons without a title sponsor, yet our companies are scrambling to assault the Eagles with ever-increasing quantities of cash).
In sports, the real achievement for the government would therefore not be “winning” the Nations Cup (which doesn’t require much government input, anyway, as we’ve seen), but instead winning the battle against the forces determined to ruin the domestic league. A thriving domestic league will attract billions of naira in local and foreign investment, create jobs, provide lasting entertainment (as opposed to the one-off thrill of lifting a trophy), and inspire national confidence.
This ad-hoc, national-cake, make-it-rain approach to governance is unsustainable, and must stop. It distracts us from the efforts required to make the real and required change. State governors, who are always complaining about their struggles to pay salaries, or constantly running to the bond market in search of billions, are the same ones doing Father Christmas to everybody who walks into the Government House under the guise of a courtesy visit.
We’re getting things twisted.
Millions of Nigerian children continue to be under-educated or mis-educated, or even not educated at all, and all we can do is send a message to them that playing football is the best way to get the public treasury upturned onto your head (apart, of course, from taking up arms and negotiating an amnesty).
Where are the National Honours for young Nigerians who are not in entertainment or sports? Where is the government’s drive and enthusiasm to raise the generation of thinkers and scientists and engineers upon whom the future of Nigeria will rest?
Countries not richer or less dysfunctional than us are pushing the boundaries of science and technology, while we stay importing generators, toothpick, Champagne, tricycles and vehicle tyres, and dreaming of a Vision 2020.
If this is how our governments want to be lavishing public funds on football, perhaps we should be praying for another 19-year hiatus before we win the next Nations Cup. Amen?
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