One Man, 12 Identity Cards
By
THERE is one thing millions of Nigerians have to worry about these days before leaving their homes. It is not how much cash to carry or whether or not to carry an umbrella during this season of rains. Though many, especially the civil servants have doubled their wardrobes in the past two years or so (thanks to improved salaries and allowances), it is also not the dress to wear or the number of dresses to take along if one is going to stay away from home for a couple of days. Neither is it the type of transport to take. All these are traditional things to consider when leaving home but nowadays a new item, the identity card, has joined the list. A good number of Nigerians have got so many of them these days that they have to ponder over the one(s) to take when going out.
Before you get it all wrong, this is not to say that the typical Nigerian of today has split multiple personalities that need different identity cards for different occasions. He has not got even two personalities like that strange creation of Robert Louis Steveson whom he named as a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. The scores of identity cards owned by many Nigerians today are not for similar number of moodswings. A good number of Nigerians own scores of identity cards today because of an obsession to overdo anything that was once beyond their reach but which was no longer so. The identity card is one such thing.
Before the late 80s, only a few Nigerians owned identity cards. These were usually men of the armed forces and a couple of other organisations whose members have to transact business that demands utmost trust with the rest of the society. So establish the genuiness of its owner, identity cards then contain relevant information that the other party might need. In those days they include among others, the designation, height and even the blood group of the bearer. These and other information were squeezed into the tiny cards by machines that were as bulky as they were expensive which only the big establishments could own. The cards, especially the photograph of the bearer, were also in colour in those days when colour print was a feat reserved for the few sophisticated printing presses that were then in existence.
Though identity cards were issued for use in mostly official assignments, their owners then use to flash them in social circles in order to gain recognition and respect. Some, especially members of the uniformed forces, use to enjoy several privileges by merely producing their identity cards when in mufti. Some of them use to get free rides in commercial vehicles and free entry into dance halls by presenting their cards. In those days, IDs (as they were sometimes called) were so highly valued that they were accepted as collateral by some money lenders and traders especially those transacting business with members of the armed forces in their Mammy markets. But that was then, not now.
Like the national currency, the naira, identity cards have lost most of the glory that was associated with them in those days when they were owned by only a few. In some parts of the country today, they have no value at all. Take for instance the experience of one of my friends while passing through one of the eastern towns. He was accosted by a group of men who looked like hoodlums. One of them barked at him to produce his income tax receipt. On inquiring who they were, he learnt that they were government agents out on a revenue collection drive. Being a civil servant whose tax was collected from his salary every month (Pay As You Earn-PAYE) as was the practice with all government and even some non-governmental establishments, my friend had thanked his stars for carrying the identity card issued him by the Ministry where he works. The card was not only of high quality, it also had the much-revered national Coat-Of-Arms embossed at the top. He quickly brought it out and showed it to the men, not without some airs. But to his utter surprise, one of them shoved him and yelled at him brusquely to pocket his ID card if he does not want it to be torn to shreds before his very eyes.
By this time, one of the hefty and uncouth men was already dragging him towards a mango tree under which a man the men referred to as their boss was in council. To summarize, my docile friend paid what was demanded from him in order to avoid further manhandling from the rogue-like revenue collectors.
“Anybody can produce that ID car of yours!” one of the men had reminded him as he was leaving with his tail between his legs.
Though my friend had presented the style of these revenue collectors, he did not dispute their total disdain for identity cards. They are no longer a preserve for only a few. As a result, an identity card mania has gripped the land today. Almost everybody now go about with one, not in the pocket but conspicuously stuck to the dress they were wearing. There are fanatics who even pin three or four different identity cards of themselves to their dress at one time! With the advent of computer printing that has made their production very cheap as well as fast, many Nigerians have several dozens to themselves these days. The worse aspect of it all is that fraudsters can also easily fake genuine ones. Though his were not faked, the same friend of mine who had the nasty experience from the revenue collectors in the East also confessed to me that now, as a retired civil servant, he has 12. He also revealed to me how he came about his modest dozen.
Though a Federal civil servant, my friend’s pension was paid through his state government. The Ministry from which he was retired has issued him an identity car for the purpose of this pension. The State Government through which it was paid has also issued him another one for the same purpose. And as if not to be out done, the bank where he has an account into which this pension was paid also issued him one. Altogether, he has three identity cards for only his pension.
Immediately he was retired, my friend was advised to go into business. When he confessed to these advisers that he had neither the flair nor the capital for business, he was told not to worry about those things. They reassured him that the supply (through Local Purchase Order, LPO) business they have recommended for him does not need any special skill but connections. And as a former middle ranking civil servant, he has already got these connections in the persons of his colleagues who were still serving. His advisers also went further to tell him that he could also use his status to get contracts from even non-governmental organisations such as the oil companies. Any hesitation my friend had was removed when they told him that he would become a millionaire with just one order from an oil company. All the capital he needed, his advisers pressed further, was less than a thousand naira. This was for the printing of complimentary cards and one identity card where he was to designate himself with one high-sounding title.
And though he had no office, no staff, my friend had gone on to print an identity card in which he made himself the Director and Chief Executive of a non-existent enterprise. Three of the non-governmental companies where he registered this business of his as a supplier also issued him their contractors’ identity cards.
But when my friend got not a single contract from the ministries and companies after three years of persistent visits to these places, he took a contract job as a security man with one quasi-government owned establishment. Here, he was issued another identity card. He also has one from Okpohwo (his great grandfather) Descendant Union which he also belongs and also another from the vigilante group of the street where he lives in the city.
If my friend intend going to his bank from his place of work, he has to carry both the identity cards of this establishment as well as that of the bank when leaving home for work in the morning. If he decides to have a good time with his secret mistress after finishing with the bank, he has to add the identity card of his vigilante group for he usually stayed out late on such occasions.
My friend also has an identity card of one of the political parties. And as if this was not enough, he also has another from a wing of the party that is bent on seeing that their governor is re-elected for a second term and if possible, a third term. A Pentecostal church that he strayed into one Sunday has promised him one if he worships with them for four consecutive Sundays. When he inquired if the gates of heaven will be flung open for him by merely presenting the church’s identity card when he die, he was told that he does not have to die before getting the benefits of the card. If he ran into problems while in a distant city, going to any of the branches of the church with their identity card will work wonders for him. He was impressed by this and is yet to make up his mind….
Maduku lives in Ughelli, Delta State.