How to escape a probe
By
At first, the question was: Who is afraid of a probe? - And for a while it was more like a throwaway remark, than a pointed question that demanded a blunt answer.
Then, as time went on, people took it so seriously that it virtually became the national question. At that point I sought out Nigeria's leading expert on national questions, and asked him whether, in this country where transparent and accountable citizens are so thick on the ground, it was conceivable that anyone could be afraid of a probe.
To my surprise he answered in the affirmative.
"Anyone whose probity isn't up to scratch, "he said, "would be afraid of being probed."
Experts on national questions are celebrated for their ability to play on words, I let that pass, and asked my next question: "Is there any way a man, for whose probe there is a public demand, can escape being probed?"
"Are you thinking of a group of people, or just an individual?"
"What is the difference?" I asked
"Escaping a probe is more easily done as a group efforts. All that is required is for every member of the group to stick to the same well-rehearsed story. It is more difficult for an individual who is on his own, and who has to cover his flanks from a multitude of angles. But even so, the individual still has several avenues of escape." He then proceeded to list them as follows:
Deny the allegation: the first thing to do is to deny everything. Instruct a special assistant to issue a statement saying that your attention has been drawn to a story that appeared in some sections of the press, linking you with an allegation of impropriety, etc, etc.
This allegation is unfounded, mischievous, and a calculated attempt to smear your good name.
You would have treated the story with the contempt it deserved, but for the fact that your silence might be misconstrued as an admission of guilt. The media are advised to crosscheck the accuracy of their stories before publishing them, etc. etc.
At this point, all you want to do is project an image of injured innocence - and hope that the public will soon forget the whole thing.
Try some bluff: This is stage two, and should only be embarked upon if the allegation shows no sign of being forgotten, or if other damaging disclosures begin to surface. Here is where you get the Special Assistant to issue another press statement in which you declare that (a) you have nothing to hide, (b) you are not afraid of a probe, and (c) "this is not a bluff."
Defy the Allegations: You do this when your unease begins to turn into worry, and strong counter measures become necessary. What you then do is call a "world press conference" at which, in very many carefully chosen words, you denounce the allegations, and let it be known that the matter has been placed in the capable hands of your solicitors, with instructions to take appropriate legal action to protect your good name and the reputation it has taken you a lifetime to establish.
A couple of days later, your solicitors appear in court, seeking N10 billion in damages, and a perpetual injunction which, you fervently hope, will take the allegation off the pages of newspapers.
Another way to defy the allegations is to turn the tables against him, by calling for his own immediate probe. This will only work if the level of his probity is as low as your own.
Tamper with the evidence: This requires careful planning. At its most pedestrian level, all that needs to be done is to ensure that a vital document, or preferably the whole file, relating to the allegation disappears. But something more drastic may be necessary - like setting fire to the accounts department of an organisation, or even burning down the entire building. You should not let that bother you, for there will always be somebody around who will loudly declare that the fire is "an act of God."
Charm your way out of trouble: The efficacy of charms must not be underrated. I am referring, of course, to what the dictionary defines as "small objects worn for their magical powers". In certain circles it is known as African Insurance.
The most potent charms are made from dried skulls of monkeys, wings of bats, tongues of geckos and livers of toads. The mixture is put in a small gourd, which you carry about in your pocket. Its purpose is to make your accusers suffer a loss of memory, cause members of the probe panel to quarrel openly among themselves, and, ultimately, ensure that the white paper on their findings never see the light of day.
But if this fails, there is another charm that you wear round your middle. When you are in a tight corner, you mutter an incantation and strike your palm against the nearest wall. In the blink of an eye you will be teleported to safer climes- like Brazil, where the extradition laws are very liberal.
Go into self-exile: Flee the country, taking with you a few well-stuffed suitcases. Your timely flight will have the double advantage of taking you out of harm's way, and putting you within easy reach of the loot that is the cause of all your problem. A former minister, who hasn't been heard from in a long time, is now a permanent resident in Brazil, from where he regularly commutes to London and other major banking centres.
Another beauty of self-exile is that you can stay out of Nigeria until you receive word that all is forgotten. Then you return and inform all and sundry that you had actually left the country so as to be with an ailing relative somewhere in Europe. He has now recovered, and you are back. Within weeks you join socio-political organisations, regain your respectability, and enjoy the adulation of your admirers. Many of them remember your days as a billionaire, and are hoping that there is still some of the money left.
Join them: One, or a combination, of the foregoing should greatly improve your chances of escaping being probed. But should they all fail to work, here is one final thing you can do - put yourself up as a candidate for the very next by-election into the House of Representatives, where your un-probability will be guaranteed.
And still on probes, one of the more startling disclosures made a few days ago before the judicial panel investigating the affairs of Nigerian Airways, was how five jet engines were sold to a dealer in motorcar spare parts. This only proves that what goes up does eventually come down. Or, put another way, that exchange is no robbery.
I remember how, in the "second republic", a man claiming to have invented an aeroplane managed to get the entire aviation committee of the then House of Representative trooping to a village in the South East to demonstrate their support for home grown technology - and, as the saying is, to be "part of history."
This marvel of modern aviation was assembled from a discarded minibus engine, some motorcycle tyres and, as far as anyone could tell, chewing gum and bits of string.
In my book, Combi bus engines ending up in "aeroplanes" is at par with jet engines ending up in motorcars. Didn't someone say that technology is better stolen than bought?