An English friend once expressed alarm, when I told her that Nigeria had no social security system. That nobody in Nigeria received any unemployment benefit or went on the “Dole”. Furthermore that there were no old peoples’ home or any pensions worth considering. She was petrified; “How the …. do you then survive especially in a recession?” I was at pain to tell her that Nigeria was permanently in a recession, that was the status quo. There was nothing new.
As for social security, we have our own very strong family units: that parents, uncles, aunts, etc., take care of the child. Children belong to the society and are looked after until they could fend for themselves and even long thereafter. That no self respecting Nigerian child paid rent to his or her parents after the age of 18 unlike the British. That each child was the responsibility of his next of kin who had to feed, clothe and educate him. That no old people were left on their own – they belonged to the society and lived on the support of their children, their next of kin or even the community at large which took care of them.
A few incidences some weeks later have however made me take my words back. Nigeria indeed has a social security system. It is what the economists call under-employment.
A friend of mine once arrived from the UK and I was at the airport to meet him: my friend expressed amazement at the number of airport officials, immigration, customs and other uniformed men that were within the airport premises. They, in his opinion, far out numbered the passengers disembarking from the plane.
I also recalled my last trip to the Republic of Benin; on my way there, something that struck me as I crossed over to the Beninoise side was the eerie silence. Everywhere was strangely quiet but I could not put my finger on it. It was on my way back that it dawned on me. As I crossed over from Benin to Nigeria, I noticed only two custom men on the Beninoise side, no formalities, no problem. They just cast a quick glance at my vehicle and waved me on. They probably didn’t even have uniforms. As I crossed into the Nigerian side, I noticed a sea of at least 50 different uniforms, male and female, green and brown with berets and batons. They were roaming all over the place, chit-chatting, harassing, stopping cars, making a show of opening the bonnet, instilling unnecessary fear and demanding bribes or perhaps even a lift to Mile 2. I was amazed – 50-100 people causing commotion and doing what just two people on the other side were doing very well without hassle.
From then on, every five minutes there was some custom/immigration check point or the other. I wondered what the custom and immigration were both doing and who was responsible for what! They both stopped you, both searched your car, both ordered you to get down, both harassed you, you dare not complain or they would both detain you. I also noticed quite a bit of soldiers and police, looking tough, wielding guns! I wondered what they were all doing, what a waste of manpower, what idle time.
“What are all those custom men doing?’’ was my friend’s remark on his arrival at the airport, how come they outnumber the passengers, “and all these touts and taxi drivers, what do they want?” “That’s Nigeria’s social security system,” was the reply, the civil service is Nigeria’s social security system. A vast amount of people shuttling around doing nothing, getting paid and going on strike for wage increases, that’s an inflation bent security system, I tell you.
