28/09/2026
𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰?
I recently watched a thought provoking video on the Moderndaytowncrier page.
The conversation centred on President Bola Tinubu's administration, the privileges surrounding political power, public spending, security around the President's son, and the hardship many ordinary Nigerians are experiencing.
Some of these issues have generated serious public debate. Nobel Laureate Wole Soyinka, for instance, publicly questioned the large number of armed security personnel he said he witnessed accompanying Seyi Tinubu.
Then I watched another video that raised the issue of Yahoo boys and what the presenter described as Yahoo men.
His argument was thought provoking.
We pursue young internet fraudsters, but are we equally passionate about accountability when allegations involve powerful people, politically connected individuals or the misuse of public resources?
I understood the point.
But something else came to my mind.
Something much closer to home.
What if the change Nigeria desperately needs does not begin with the President?
What if it begins with you and me?
Before someone misunderstands me, government must be accountable.
Public officials manage resources that belong to all of us. They should be questioned. They should be scrutinised. When there is credible evidence of wrongdoing, the appropriate institutions should investigate it.
But government accountability is only one side of this conversation.
Because I have started asking myself an uncomfortable question.
Are we truly against corruption, or are some of us simply angry that we are not benefiting from it?
Think about that before answering.
We Are Very Good at Pointing Fingers
The politician is corrupt.
The government is corrupt.
The system is corrupt.
The celebrity is corrupt.
Everybody is corrupt.
But somehow, we are always innocent.
That is where I think we need a reality check.
What happens when a pepper seller deliberately cheats her customers?
What happens when an artisan collects money for original materials, buys inferior ones and pockets the difference?
What happens when someone gets paid for a job he knows he did not complete?
What happens when an employee falsifies records because nobody is watching?
What happens when a business owner deliberately cheats workers?
What happens when someone uses connections to obtain what should have gone to a more deserving person?
What happens when we know our friend cannot reasonably explain his sudden wealth, but instead of asking questions, we celebrate him because our own share might be coming?
Is corruption only corruption when politicians do it?
I do not think so.
The figures may be different.
The consequences may be different.
The level of responsibility may be different.
But dishonesty does not suddenly become integrity because the amount involved is small.
And this is why I believe the change we keep demanding must also begin with us.
Now Let Me Ask You Something More Difficult
Suppose the corruption you complain about today started favouring you tomorrow.
Would you still complain?
Suppose your children suddenly started receiving multimillion naira contracts from the same government you criticise every day.
Would you still demand change?
Suppose your brother received a powerful appointment.
Suppose your friend became connected to people at the top.
Suppose doors suddenly started opening for your family because you knew the right people.
Would your definition of justice remain the same?
Or would you suddenly become quieter?
That is the question.
Because it is very easy to have principles when those principles cost us nothing.
The real test comes when doing the right thing means rejecting something that would have benefited us.
And To Those of Us Who Call Ourselves Christians
This is where it becomes even more serious for me.
We cannot claim to be preparing for heaven while conveniently changing the definition of righteousness whenever money is involved.
Sometimes I wonder whether we have become too quick to call everything a miracle.
Money comes.
Miracle.
A contract comes.
Testimony.
Someone powerful gives us access.
Favour.
An appointment comes.
God has done it.
But as Christians, shouldn't there also be moments when we stop and ask questions?
Where did this opportunity come from?
What am I being asked to compromise?
Who is being cheated?
Can I genuinely thank God for this and still maintain a clear conscience before Him?
Not every profitable opportunity is automatically evidence of God's approval.
Sometimes the most Christian thing you can do is walk away from something everybody else is calling favour.
Because Christianity is not merely public confession.
It is repentance.
It is transformation.
It is integrity when nobody is watching.
It is choosing what is right even when what is wrong would have been more profitable.
And if we genuinely believe there is a heaven ahead of us, then there must be things money cannot convince us to do.
Activism Must Look Inward Too
I appreciate people who speak against injustice.
Nigeria needs voices willing to question power.
We need journalists.
We need activists.
We need citizens who refuse to remain silent when institutions fail.
But activism should also have a mirror.
Because I can expose another person's wrongdoing publicly and still be dishonest privately.
I can criticise corruption online and cheat somebody offline.
I can demand accountability from Abuja while refusing accountability in my own business.
I can condemn politicians for abusing power while abusing the little authority I have over somebody else.
So perhaps activism should not only ask:
What are they doing?
Sometimes it should ask:
What am I doing?
Because if everybody is waiting until he gets access to the same system he currently condemns, then we do not really want change.
We simply want our turn.
And that is dangerous.
The Change Cannot Stop at the Top
Of course leadership matters.
Institutions matter.
Elections matter.
Accountability matters.
Good governance matters.
But character matters too.
Imagine a Nigeria where the trader refuses to cheat.
The artisan delivers exactly what was paid for.
The contractor actually completes the project.
The civil servant refuses the bribe.
The employer refuses to exploit workers.
The employee refuses to steal from the employer.
The religious leader refuses to manipulate people.
The activist applies the same standard to friends and opponents.
The politician refuses to steal even when stealing would be easy.
And the Christian refuses to compromise even when compromise comes disguised as favour.
That Nigeria will not be perfect.
But it will certainly be different.
So Who Will Change Nigeria?
Maybe we have been asking the question incorrectly.
Perhaps the question should be:
Who is willing to change first?
Because Nigeria is not some mysterious creature living somewhere outside Nigerians.
Nigeria is you.
Nigeria is me.
Nigeria is the politician.
Nigeria is the pepper seller.
Nigeria is the pastor.
Nigeria is the activist.
Nigeria is the celebrity.
Nigeria is the artisan.
Nigeria is the civil servant.
Nigeria is the businessman.
Nigeria is the young person desperately looking for a shortcut.
And collectively, we are yet to decide what kind of country we truly want.
So I want to leave you with one question.
Not as a politician.
Not as an activist.
Not as a Christian trying to impress anybody.
Not as somebody trying to win an argument on social media.
Just you and your conscience.
If the corruption you complain about today started favouring you and your family tomorrow, would you still want it to end?
Answer sincerely.
Because if our answer changes when the beneficiaries change, perhaps what we wanted was never justice.
Maybe we simply wanted access.
That is a reality check for all of us, myself included.
I believe we should continue demanding accountability from those entrusted with public resources.
But while doing that, we must also demand accountability from the person in the mirror.
Especially those of us who profess to know God.
We cannot keep praying for God to change Nigeria while refusing to allow Him to change us.
We cannot shout against darkness publicly while negotiating with it privately.
And we cannot claim to have heaven in view while knowingly embracing whatever benefits us on earth, regardless of whether it is right before God.
The change we desire must begin somewhere.
Let it begin with us.
God is not unaware of what Nigerians are going through.
He sees the hardship.
He sees those in authority.
But He also sees you and me.
May we have the courage to demand better from our leaders and, at the same time, become better ourselves.
It is well.
Temidayo Aboriomoh
I recently watched a thought provoking video on the Modern Day Town Crier page.
The conversation centred on President Bola Tinubu's administration, the privileges surrounding political power, public spending, security around the President's son, and the hardship many ordinary Nigerians are experiencing.
Some of these issues have generated serious public debate. Nobel Laureate Wole Soyinka, for instance, publicly questioned the large number of armed security personnel he said he witnessed accompanying Seyi Tinubu.
Then I watched another video that raised the issue of Yahoo boys and what the presenter described as Yahoo men.
His argument was thought provoking.
We pursue young internet fraudsters, but are we equally passionate about accountability when allegations involve powerful people, politically connected individuals or the misuse of public resources?
I understood the point.
But something else came to my mind.
Something much closer to home.
What if the change Nigeria desperately needs does not begin with the President?
What if it begins with you and me?
Before someone misunderstands me, government must be accountable.
Public officials manage resources that belong to all of us. They should be questioned. They should be scrutinised. When there is credible evidence of wrongdoing, the appropriate institutions should investigate it.
But government accountability is only one side of this conversation.
Because I have started asking myself an uncomfortable question.
Are we truly against corruption, or are some of us simply angry that we are not benefiting from it?
Think about that before answering.
We Are Very Good at Pointing Fingers
The politician is corrupt.
The government is corrupt.
The system is corrupt.
The celebrity is corrupt.
Everybody is corrupt.
But somehow, we are always innocent.
That is where I think we need a reality check.
What happens when a pepper seller deliberately cheats her customers?
What happens when an artisan collects money for original materials, buys inferior ones and pockets the difference?
What happens when someone gets paid for a job he knows he did not complete?
What happens when an employee falsifies records because nobody is watching?
What happens when a business owner deliberately cheats workers?
What happens when someone uses connections to obtain what should have gone to a more deserving person?
What happens when we know our friend cannot reasonably explain his sudden wealth, but instead of asking questions, we celebrate him because our own share might be coming?
Is corruption only corruption when politicians do it?
I do not think so.
The figures may be different.
The consequences may be different.
The level of responsibility may be different.
But dishonesty does not suddenly become integrity because the amount involved is small.
And this is why I believe the change we keep demanding must also begin with us.
Now Let Me Ask You Something More Difficult
Suppose the corruption you complain about today started favouring you tomorrow.
Would you still complain?
Suppose your children suddenly started receiving multimillion naira contracts from the same government you criticise every day.
Would you still demand change?
Suppose your brother received a powerful appointment.
Suppose your friend became connected to people at the top.
Suppose doors suddenly started opening for your family because you knew the right people.
Would your definition of justice remain the same?
Or would you suddenly become quieter?
That is the question.
Because it is very easy to have principles when those principles cost us nothing.
The real test comes when doing the right thing means rejecting something that would have benefited us.
And To Those of Us Who Call Ourselves Christians
This is where it becomes even more serious for me.
We cannot claim to be preparing for heaven while conveniently changing the definition of righteousness whenever money is involved.
Sometimes I wonder whether we have become too quick to call everything a miracle.
Money comes.
Miracle.
A contract comes.
Testimony.
Someone powerful gives us access.
Favour.
An appointment comes.
God has done it.
But as Christians, shouldn't there also be moments when we stop and ask questions?
Where did this opportunity come from?
What am I being asked to compromise?
Who is being cheated?
Can I genuinely thank God for this and still maintain a clear conscience before Him?
Not every profitable opportunity is automatically evidence of God's approval.
Sometimes the most Christian thing you can do is walk away from something everybody else is calling favour.
Because Christianity is not merely public confession.
It is repentance.
It is transformation.
It is integrity when nobody is watching.
It is choosing what is right even when what is wrong would have been more profitable.
And if we genuinely believe there is a heaven ahead of us, then there must be things money cannot convince us to do.
Activism Must Look Inward Too
I appreciate people who speak against injustice.
Nigeria needs voices willing to question power.
We need journalists.
We need activists.
We need citizens who refuse to remain silent when institutions fail.
But activism should also have a mirror.
Because I can expose another person's wrongdoing publicly and still be dishonest privately.
I can criticise corruption online and cheat somebody offline.
I can demand accountability from Abuja while refusing accountability in my own business.
I can condemn politicians for abusing power while abusing the little authority I have over somebody else.
So perhaps activism should not only ask:
What are they doing?
Sometimes it should ask:
What am I doing?
Because if everybody is waiting until he gets access to the same system he currently condemns, then we do not really want change.
We simply want our turn.
And that is dangerous.
The Change Cannot Stop at the Top
Of course leadership matters.
Institutions matter.
Elections matter.
Accountability matters.
Good governance matters.
But character matters too.
Imagine a Nigeria where the trader refuses to cheat.
The artisan delivers exactly what was paid for.
The contractor actually completes the project.
The civil servant refuses the bribe.
The employer refuses to exploit workers.
The employee refuses to steal from the employer.
The religious leader refuses to manipulate people.
The activist applies the same standard to friends and opponents.
The politician refuses to steal even when stealing would be easy.
And the Christian refuses to compromise even when compromise comes disguised as favour.
That Nigeria will not be perfect.
But it will certainly be different.
So Who Will Change Nigeria?
Maybe we have been asking the question incorrectly.
Perhaps the question should be:
Who is willing to change first?
Because Nigeria is not some mysterious creature living somewhere outside Nigerians.
Nigeria is you.
Nigeria is me.
Nigeria is the politician.
Nigeria is the pepper seller.
Nigeria is the pastor.
Nigeria is the activist.
Nigeria is the celebrity.
Nigeria is the artisan.
Nigeria is the civil servant.
Nigeria is the businessman.
Nigeria is the young person desperately looking for a shortcut.
And collectively, we are yet to decide what kind of country we truly want.
So I want to leave you with one question.
Not as a politician.
Not as an activist.
Not as a Christian trying to impress anybody.
Not as somebody trying to win an argument on social media.
Just you and your conscience.
If the corruption you complain about today started favouring you and your family tomorrow, would you still want it to end?
Answer sincerely.
Because if our answer changes when the beneficiaries change, perhaps what we wanted was never justice.
Maybe we simply wanted access.
That is a reality check for all of us, myself included.
I believe we should continue demanding accountability from those entrusted with public resources.
But while doing that, we must also demand accountability from the person in the mirror.
Especially those of us who profess to know God.
We cannot keep praying for God to change Nigeria while refusing to allow Him to change us.
We cannot shout against darkness publicly while negotiating with it privately.
And we cannot claim to have heaven in view while knowingly embracing whatever benefits us on earth, regardless of whether it is right before God.
The change we desire must begin somewhere.
Let it begin with us.
God is not unaware of what Nigerians are going through.
He sees the hardship.
He sees those in authority.
But He also sees you and me.
May we have the courage to demand better from our leaders and, at the same time, become better ourselves.
It is well.
Temidayo Aboriomoh