Adusca Odin
This is the inside story of corruption in Africa’s most populous and richest nation. It excavates the full dimension of corruption in the system, beginning with the police; which operate like an organized crime syndicate as revealed through breath-taking confession of the author himself, a police officer. Nigeria, the poorest country in the world, despite its oil wealth, has been hijacked and mismanaged by imposters, especially from the Moslem north. Can president Obasanjo save this groggy giant from collapse? Are the British, Italian, German, Israeli, US and Turkish police more brutal and corrupt than in Nigeria? Nigerians in the Diaspora speak out. Discover what it means to be a Jew in Nigeria and why Israel is an attraction to Nigerian dictators.
The 46 years old Nigerian-born author hails from Benin City the nucleus of the great ancient Benin Empire. Having served in the police for six years, he left his native Nigeria for studies overseas where he obtained a degree in psychology and a specialist master’s degree in Justice Administration in the US. Returning home in 1988, he was arrested by police for possessing Israeli passport along with his white spouse and ten months old son as he refused to give them a bribe. This book was born out of his ordeal in the hand of the police as he began to scrutinize his own police record; and the extent of corruption in the entire system. He is a human-rights activist.
As a traffic policeman, I became one of the best bribe collectors in the department due to constant methodical instructions. With the amount of bribe money in my possession at this time of my youthful life, I was capable of purchasing anything money could buy- a beautiful house, a flashy car and other mundane possessions; but inside me, I was completely wretched. I had become morally and culturally bankrupt. I felt like a helpless automation, determined by forces beyond my control, motivated by innate depravity. In general terms, I was facing a crisis: a crisis that its cause was known to me, and that it was me, and only me alone that could formulate a solution to it. Worst of all, my young intellectual mind once filled with crusading element had been overtaken by indignant frustration. I had become hopeless. My pulsating and rebellious personality had varnished into the silence of subjectivity just because of money. At a point I was so incensed with money that I coined its meaning by explaining what every letter represented in the way it appealed to me. M- Many shall die for my sake. O- On me, everyone shall depend. N- None shall be happy without me. E- Engage me in anything, it shall be possible and Y- Yet, I am the root of all evils. Who can argue with that? Avarice and the need to get rich quickly were not my main aim of enlisting into the police force; but the malleability of my personality by the police system had become so evident and pronounced as I became a money grabbing, evil knave; an acquired secondary quality which my entire system was now fighting hard to reject. The police had almost succeeded in making me a monster. It had to stop. The moment I started to nourish this sense of compunction, I knew there was hope for me to repent, and the only hope for repentance was to quit.
