Public office and misuse of power have a symbiotic relationship in Nigeria. The abuse of power occurs in several ways, but one of the most easily noticeable is the lawlessness of official convoys. The nation’s conscience was crudely jolted recently when aides attached to the convoy of Peter Ekpendu, who just retired as the Controller-General of the Nigerian Prisons Service, bullied a lawmaker, Onyemaechi Mrakpor, in Abuja. This kind of attack is a proof of the use of power for egocentric purposes. It should provoke the government to rein in the recklessness associated with government motorcades.
Mrakpor, a House of Representatives member from Delta State, tasted the raw edge of power for trying to overtake Ekpendu’s convoy in the National Assembly complex. Traumatised and embarrassed, she recalled, “One man banged at my car, slapped me and called me a prostitute.” Ekpendu, who was thereafter summoned by the House, reportedly looked on while the assault was unleashed. If a lawmaker could be so humiliated, it means the average Nigerian is going through hell in the hands of power-drunk officials.
Mrakpor’s ordeal is not new in a country where impunity of public officials is the order of the day. Many Nigerians are habitually subjected to brutal treatment on the road by government functionaries — including National Assembly members – with their oversized convoys. Motorists are forced to make way or have their vehicles damaged. In extreme cases, they get killed. In 2013, a vehicle in the convoy of Idris Wada, then governor of Kogi State, rammed into a car conveying, among others, Festus Iyayi, a former president of the Academic Staff Union of Universities, near Lokoja, and killed him. Two people died and nine others were injured the same year in Lagos when a tipper, struggling to avoid a seven-car convoy of a yet-to-be-identified government official, rammed into pedestrians at a bus stop.
In 2012, Wada’s aide-de-camp, Idris Mohammed, was killed in an accident involving the governor’s convoy. Accidents involving the reckless convoys of other governors like Ibrahim Shema (Katsina), Adams Oshiomhole (Edo) and Tanko al-Makura (Nasarawa), have claimed several lives. In 2012, outrage greeted the death of James Momoh, a journalist, who was killed by the convoy of the then Petroleum Minister, Diezani Alison-Madueke. Yet, the authorities, enamoured of such spoils of office, have refused to take action against this phenomenon.
The barbarism of government officials comes out in bold relief anytime there is a traffic jam on the road. The convoys harass motorists with sirens; their security aides horsewhip and damage the vehicles of motorists who insist on their rights. The Sultan of Sokoto, Abubakar Sa’ad, spoke the mind of Nigerians at a public forum on road safety in April, accusing the Federal Road Safety Commission of turning a blind eye to the excesses of official convoys.
Although it happened in 2008, the case of Henry Arogundade, a Nigerian Navy rear admiral, whose aides assaulted a lady, Uzoma Okere, for not quickly vacating the road for his convoy, is still fresh in the mind. The courts thankfully ruled in favour of Okere, and asked the Nigerian Navy to pay her a compensation of N100 million. The punishment would have had a weightier impact if the cost had been personally awarded against Arogundade and not his employers.
Amidst the savagery, some government officials however cut a picture of decency. In the immediate past, Babatunde Fashola, as the governor of Lagos State, did not use siren, ran a small convoy and sat in traffic jams like other Lagosians. That the incumbent, Akinwunmi Ambode, has endorsed Fashola’s template, is a sign of civilisation.
Nigerians are suffering injustice on the road in silence. But the National Assembly, where the Mrakpor incident occurred, is part of the menace. In 2013, the security personnel attached to the convoys of Chris Anyanwu, then in charge of the Senate Committee on Nigerian Navy, and Governor Rochas Okorocha of Imo State clashed on the highway in a shameful show of power.
To instil sanity in road users, the FRSC has a lot of work to do. In partnership with the authorities and police, it should implement the laws on road safety, both on government officials and other members of the public. The FRSC, which was once respected, should recreate that aura of efficiency and rectitude by being firm with public officials who oppress the populace with their insufferable convoys. A model like this operates elsewhere.
In the United States in 2003, according to the Los Angeles Times, a California highway patrol officer chased the two-car convoy of the then Governor Gray Davis, for five miles, citing speeding. On being notified of the incident, the California Highway Patrol Commissioner, DO Helmick, reprimanded the sergeant in charge of the motorcade “because traffic laws have been broken.” He said that motorcade officers must obey traffic laws, just like every other motorist. This is a sound model that the FRSC should adopt.
Public officials should reduce the size of their convoys in line with the current economic realities, and stop bullying other motorists. Why would a governor owing workers’ salaries drive around in flamboyant convoys? Even in economies that are well off, their leaders operate with a sense of moderation. From the early 1990s, the president of China (with a GDP of $10.98 trillion), has been using a Toyota Coaster for short-distance trips. The Italian president has a four-car convoy; the Canadian prime minister uses a five-car convoy. These are countries with top-ranked economies.
Our public officials should adopt frugality, shun ostentation and concentrate on ennobling services to the citizens.
