
Nigeria’s latest ranking in the Corruption Perceptions Index (CPI) released by Transparency International (TI) is yet another sobering reminder that the country’s long-declared war against corruption remains largely rhetorical. Ranked 142nd out of 182 countries in the 2025 index, Nigeria continues to languish in the lower rungs of global integrity tables.
The country’s score has hovered around 24 out of 100 in recent years, placing it 150th in 2022, 145th in 2023 and 140th in 2024, showing stagnation and no real progress.
It is sad that while other nations are making incremental gains, Nigeria appears trapped in a cycle of weak anti-corruption campaigns and selective accountability. The global average score stands at 42, itself a worrying figure, yet Nigeria remains far below it. Even within Africa, the country trails behind 33 nations, including Seychelles, Cape Verde, Botswana and Rwanda, countries that have devised and enforced institutional frameworks to contain the malaise.
Globally, Denmark, Finland, Singapore and New Zealand continue to top the chart, underscoring the wide gulf between countries with strong governance frameworks and those weighed down by entrenched corruption.
Transparency International has consistently observed that countries near the bottom of the index are characterised by weak institutions, limited accountability and poor enforcement of anti-corruption laws. Unfortunately, Nigeria fits that bill.
Of course, the main anti-graft agencies, the Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC) and the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC), can reel out figures showing they are recording more convictions. The reality, however, is that most of the convicts are smaller offenders who lack the political influence to ward off the law. Most of the big politicians and politically exposed persons have their cases drag on interminably and largely end up avoiding punishment for their offences. This is aided by equally corrupt elements in the judiciary and the insinuation by a former chairman of the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC) that those who join the party have their sins forgiven. Instead of prosecution, such individuals are appointed to high government positions, giving the impression, right or wrong, that the system somehow condones corruption.
At the heart of the crisis lies a painful irony: the very institutions established to fight corruption are themselves widely perceived as deeply compromised. The police, the judiciary and even educational institutions — pillars meant to uphold law, justice and moral instruction — have become, in the public imagination, some of the worst culprits. Even worse, the present EFCC chairman has publicly upbraided officials of the anti-graft body as being neck-deep in the crimes they are employed, trained and paid to combat.
Similarly, the police, charged with enforcing the law, are too often accused of extortion, bribery and abuse of power. Investigations are sometimes influenced by the highest bidder and law enforcement becomes transactional.
The judiciary, constitutionally entrusted with impartial adjudication, is not insulated from allegations of inducement and undue influence. High-profile corruption cases drag on for years, sometimes collapsing on technical grounds. Perceptions — whether fully accurate or not — that justice can be bought severely damage the credibility of the courts. Without a judiciary that is above suspicion, the entire anti-corruption architecture is a shambles.
Even educational institutions, expected to shape future leaders and instil ethical values, are not immune. Cases of examination malpractice, certificate racketeering and bribery for admissions within universities and colleges speak of a system where sleaze is prevalent.
What is even more worrisome is that corruption is not a stand-alone crime; its corrosive tentacles afflict every institution in Nigeria, including the security agencies, leading to an unending fight against terrorism; the electoral system, where vote-buying, inducement of officials and manipulation of processes take precedence over the will of the people; and government policies, where programmes and projects often fail at the implementation stage because of inflated contracts and abandoned projects. The ghost worker syndrome and other sharp practices in the civil service are just a reflection of a decrepit state institution.
Infrastructure deficits, poorly equipped hospitals, dilapidated schools and erratic power supply are all symptoms of the problem.
The CPI is not perfect, but it remains one of the most widely referenced benchmarks of transparency and accountability.
As a newspaper, we do not subscribe to the helplessness of some in Nigeria who say that the problem is pervasive, endemic and, as such, intractable. Far from it. We believe in the public truism that if Nigeria does not kill corruption, corruption will kill Nigeria. Nigeria cannot achieve its national development goals if it does not rein in corruption in its public life.
President Bola Ahmed Tinubu must revive the fight against corruption with sincerity, consistency and courage — no matter who is involved. No individual must be considered untouchable. Political affiliation, ethnic background or social status must not determine who is investigated or prosecuted. If the anti-corruption war is perceived as selective, it will fail. If it is seen as impartial and relentless, it can gradually rebuild trust.
Nigeria’s future depends not only on economic reforms or ambitious policy blueprints, but on the moral integrity of its institutions. Without confronting corruption head-on, efforts to improve security, attract investment, reform the civil service or deliver social programmes will continue to falter.
The Tinubu administration must seize this moment to demonstrate that integrity is not negotiable. It must shed any notion of unseriousness and partiality in the fight against corruption; otherwise, it risks leaving behind a terrible legacy that will continue to define this government long after it has gone.

