I am sure that not a few people, like me, keep wondering just what is happening in our country. The state of affairs leaves one wondering whether we won’t have to go to outer space to get aliens who may love us enough to run the society for the betterment of all. Of course, it is always easy to blame government, but that is inescapable because fish starts rotting from the head. If the government stinks, then the whole society is undoubtedly a cesspit from which issues forth the most offensive odours.
As a result, this week, I am shifting focus to the provision of essential services — basics. Permit me to get personal. One of the services that state governments render is the Vehicle Inspection Service, VIS, staffed by people who wear white on black uniforms, the ones we call VIOs, or vehicle inspection officers. The VIS issues what is called the roadworthiness certificate to motorists. And that is where I have repeatedly generated issues. In the recent past, not a few aggrieved citizens have sued the VIS in their states to court, and secured various judgements barring the VIS from impounding vehicles or imposing fines. Many states have pushed back against these verdicts, opting for impunity instead.
That is not my immediate problem. If government can issue roadworthiness certificates, shouldn’t the roads also be car-worthy? I live in a suburb of Lagos, from where I transport myself to Apapa to work everyday. The nearest carriageway to me is the LASU-Iba Expressway, and after that a two-lane carriageway from where it is the wilderness (in terms of roads) to the residential areas. These roads are simply horrible. Almost without exception all of us who drive on these suburban roads visit our mechanics every weekend for one repair or the other. What goes for roads in the suburbs are tracks pock-marked by deep gullies, and in the season of rain, become long stretches accommodating pools of brown, muddy water of different sizes. In some areas, vehicles sink in the mud, requiring extra effort and cost to retrieve. Inevitably, shock absorbers, tie-rods, stabilizers, and other units in the suspension of vehicles get damaged and have to be repaired, almost on weekly basis.
I recall several months ago, there was a fire incident in the building next door to the one I live in. Fearing it could spread to us, I called the fire service. They responded, but couldn’t get to our location. The driver of the fire truck, looking at the endless number of muddy swimming pools on what we call roads, declined to drive further. The firemen then came to the burning house on foot! By then, the entire neighbourhood had turned out with buckets of water mixed with detergent and battled the fire successfully. Yet, government’s revenue agents never fail to turn up, handing out demand notices for land use charges. But government, state and local, never remember to do anything about the roads in these suburbs. That is disservice to the people, and dysfunction on the part of governments that are supposed to look after the well-being of people.
Equally bad, perhaps worse is the status of electricity supply. We all looked on helplessly as the electricity distribution companies, DISCOs, segregated the supply market into BANDS. The area where you live determines how much electricity you get per day. So we have Bands A, B, C, and D. In my part of Lagos, which I consider a GRA (Government Rejected Area), we are supposed to be on Band D. But we are actually band-less. If you get less than four (4) hours of electricity in 48 hours, what band is that? What is worse is that the distribution infrastructure there, from poles to cables and transformers were all purchased by self-help, not installed by any NEPA, PHCN, or DISCO.
When transformers get faulty, you’re in for a grind, and a very long spell of darkness. It usually takes the DISCO a minimum of six months to fix a bad transformer. And while that is being done, extortion pranks are launched. Executives of the community development associations levy every resident, collect huge sums of money, which disappears into the pockets of DISCO technicians. Otherwise, you just won’t get your transformer back. It is spiritual wickedness to feed fat on the misery of fellow human beings, but do they care? Impunity, flowing from a dysfunctioning system rules life and living here. Consider this scenario: a transformer gets faulty, DISCO officials come, inspect it and give a verdict — we’re taking your transformer to our workshop for repairs.
Knowing that means being without light for at least six months, they offer to nominate a contractor that can repair it in days if you can generate the sum of N2 million. Wow! If a contractor can repair in days, why can’t the DISCO, with the power of its institution behind it? What this shows is that our dysfunctioning system has bred and sustained a culture of disservice and impunity that is simply anti-people. Several months ago, the Lagos State Water Corporation tried to levy people who have boreholes in their homes. If not for pushbacks, it might have succeeded. An organisation with a mandate to provide water fails woefully, and now seeks to levy people for generating alternatives. It’s like DISCOs trying to levy people and companies that own and run generators! I have gone this length on the issue of disservice and impunity to recall our attention to the fundamental question underpinning the failure of governance in our country. The sooner we deal with these issues in our favour, the better. TGIF.
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