In a country where corruption has been institutionalized and governance has been reduced to a cash-out scheme, one is often tempted to ask satirically: If Nigeria were a public limited company (PLC), would some of our corrupt politicians run it well and profitably? It is a bitter question laced with irony, yet it cuts deep into the heart of our national tragedy.
Let us assume, for the sake of argument, that Nigeria is a corporate entity, Nigeria Plc. It has abundant resources (capital), millions of citizens (shareholders), and a board of directors (politicians) supposedly responsible for steering it toward profit, growth, and sustainability. Now, if you take a look at how most Nigerian companies operate, accountability, board meetings, financial audits, shareholder reports, and risk assessments, you will realize that our political leaders would have been fired long ago if the same standards applied in governance.
In the private sector, incompetence and corruption are not tolerated for long. CEOs are shown the door the moment the balance sheet begins to bleed. But in Nigeria’s political enterprise, the opposite happens, the more a politician fails, the more he gets promoted or reappointed. Failure here is not a disqualification; it’s a credential.
Take, for example, the countless cases of budget padding, ghost projects, inflated contracts, and missing billions. If Nigeria Plc. were listed on the Nigerian Exchange, its stock would have been suspended for “creative accounting” and “non-disclosure of material liabilities.” Yet, in our political reality, the same characters responsible for the mess are allowed to run for office again, shamelessly promising to “fix Nigeria.”
But here is the irony, some of these corrupt politicians, when you check their private businesses, run them efficiently and profitably. They ensure their companies make money, pay staff, and stay solvent. They attend board meetings, hire experts, demand results, and hold managers accountable. The same person who steals billions from government projects will never allow a single naira to go missing from his personal enterprise.
Nigeria’s tragedy is not that we lack capable people. we have them. It is that the system rewards greed and punishes integrity. If Nigeria were a PLC, most politicians would probably turn it around in record time. not out of patriotism, but out of profit motive. Imagine if every contract they awarded had to affect their dividends directly. Imagine if every mismanaged project reflected on their personal profit and loss statements. They would suddenly become prudent, efficient, and transparent overnight.
But that is the problem. In government, there are no consequences. The money is “government money,” not their money. The roads can remain bad, hospitals can rot, and schools can crumble, it doesn’t affect their bottom line. As long as they can siphon funds through inflated contracts and collect kickbacks, the system keeps running on corruption, not competence.
If Nigeria were truly structured like a PLC, the citizens, as shareholders, would have the power to demand performance or sack the board. But in our pseudo-democracy, elections have been rigged, votes have been monetized, and accountability has been eroded. The so-called “shareholders” are powerless, distracted by ethnic sentiments, religious bias, and hunger. So the “board of directors” keeps recycling itself, running the company into the ground, while paying lip service to “restructuring” and “reforms.”
In corporate Nigeria, a director who mismanages funds is investigated, sanctioned, and often blacklisted. In political Nigeria, such a person is “compensated” with another appointment. In corporate Nigeria, annual reports must be audited by independent bodies. In political Nigeria, audit reports are buried, doctored, or ignored. In the private sector, fraud leads to jail. In the public sector, it leads to national honors.
It is this lack of consequences that makes corruption a career path in Nigeria. Our leaders know that no matter how much they loot, there’s always a soft landing, a plea bargain, a political godfather, or a presidential pardon waiting somewhere.
If Nigeria were truly a public limited company (PLC), its financial statement would be nothing short of a national tragedy. The country’s revenue side would proudly list oil, taxes, natural resources, and an abundant pool of human capital. Yet, on the expense side, the story would quickly turn sour, overwhelmed by corruption, waste, mismanagement, inflated contracts, and a chronic culture of misplaced priorities. The bottom line of such a balance sheet would reveal a grim reality: an ever-widening deficit, mounting debt, and a pervasive sense of despair that continues to haunt the nation’s economic narrative.
Some would argue that maybe Nigeria needs to be run like a business, with strict Key Performance Indicators (KPIs), quarterly audits, and penalties for non-performance. That is fine in theory. But until we change the character of those managing the system, it won’t matter what structure we adopt. A thief remains a thief, whether in a public office or a boardroom.
So, back to the question: If Nigeria were a PLC, won’t some corrupt politicians run it well and profitably? Yes, but for themselves, not for the shareholders. They would grow Nigeria Plc’s revenue through sharp practices, underreport profits to the “shareholders,” and quietly divert dividends into offshore accounts. They would ensure the company “survives” just enough to justify their continued control. The illusion of profitability would exist, but the wealth would be concentrated in the hands of a few directors, just like it is today.
Ultimately, Nigeria does not need to be turned into a PLC. It needs to be run like a country, with leaders who have conscience, competence, and accountability. It needs citizens who understand that democracy is not a spectator sport, but a shareholder meeting where you have the right, and duty, to question, vote, and demand performance.
Until then, Nigeria will remain a corporation of corruption, where the few eat dividends of deceit, and the many suffer losses of neglect.
