There is something profoundly powerful about experiencing a system that simply works. Not one that requires connections, inducements, or endless patience—but one that is efficient, fair, and predictable. I recently had such an experience at the Nigerian High Commission in the United Kingdom, and it reinforced a truth we often overlook: when systems work, everyone benefits.
In October 2025, my family and I completed our Nigerian passport renewal applications online and were assigned biometric capturing dates. Mine, along with those of my two children, was scheduled for February 23rd. Three days before the appointment, we received confirmation emails—clear, timely, and reassuring. My wife, however, had mistakenly selected a different date and contacted the High Commission to request a change so she could attend with us. Her request was declined. The officials insisted that the process and schedule must be strictly followed.
At first glance, this may appear inconvenient. But in reality, it was deeply encouraging. There was no suggestion of “finding a way”, no hint that the rules could be bent for a price. It was a simple case of policy over privilege. That alone marked a significant departure from the experiences many Nigerians have grown accustomed to.
On the day of our appointment, my children and I arrived at the High Commission as early as 7 a.m. We joined a queue outside, and shortly after the officials arrived, we were ushered in. What followed was an exercise in professionalism. The process was explained clearly to all applicants. There was order. There was transparency. And most importantly, there were no under-the-table transactions—no buying or selling of slots, no unofficial payments, no confusion.
I had braced myself for a long day. Anyone familiar with bureaucratic processes involving Nigerian institutions might reasonably expect delays stretching into the afternoon. Yet, to my surprise, we completed everything by 10:50 a.m. Even more impressive, within three days, our renewed passports were delivered to our home in Leicester.
This experience did not happen by accident. It is the product of deliberate reforms and a commitment to service delivery. Much has been said about the work being done by Olubunmi Tunji-Ojo at the Ministry of Interior, and I can now attest to its impact beyond Nigeria’s borders, having witnessed it already at the Nigerian Immigration Service. My wife attended her own appointment on March 2 and reported an equally seamless process. Today, we all have our passports without stress, frustration, or exploitation.
The lesson here is straightforward: a working system benefits us all.
It restores dignity to citizens. It builds trust in public institutions. It eliminates opportunities for corruption. And it improves efficiency, saving both time and money. When systems function properly, they create a ripple effect that touches every aspect of national life.
This brings us to a broader and more pressing question: why can’t this level of efficiency and accountability be replicated across other sectors in Nigeria?
Leadership is a critical starting point. The individuals appointed to positions of authority matter immensely. As President Bola Tinubu continues to shape his administration, it is important to acknowledge that while some ministers are clearly delivering results, others are not. Governance cannot be sentimental. Underperforming officials should be replaced with competent, results-driven individuals who understand their mandates and are committed to delivering on them.
Beyond leadership, there is an urgent need to strengthen systems across key areas of national life.
Take road safety, for instance. In the United Kingdom, it is virtually impossible to drive without insurance. The system enforces compliance through a combination of technology, law enforcement, and strict penalties. Speed cameras are widespread, and traffic violations are recorded and penalized promptly. The result is a culture of accountability. You may attempt to defy the system, but once caught, the consequences are certain and severe.
Nigeria, by contrast, continues to suffer avoidable tragedies on its roads. Too many drivers operate vehicles without valid licenses. Many have never undergone proper driving tests. Enforcement is inconsistent, and penalties are often negotiable. This must change. Mandatory insurance, proper licensing, and strict enforcement of traffic laws are not optional—they are essential for saving lives.
Education is another area that demands urgent attention. A functional society cannot exist without an educated populace. Yet, in many parts of Nigeria, children are still seen hawking goods during school hours or being forced into early marriages under the guise of culture or religion. This is unacceptable. Education must be compulsory, accessible, and protected. Every child deserves the opportunity to learn and to build a future. A child you refused to educate today will end up becoming a bandit and armed robber who will terrorize your children tomorrow. Think about this deeply!
Economic development also requires a shift in priorities. Instead of converting existing factories into religious centres, we should be investing in industries that create jobs and drive growth. Factories—not prayer houses—will reduce unemployment. Enterprise, not dependency, will build a resilient economy.
It is ironic that in many cases, existing factories are being turned into places of worship where people now gather to pray for jobs that should have been created by those same facilities. In many developed countries, including the UK, systems reduce the need for such desperation. Basic opportunities—jobs, food, and social support—are more accessible. There is a clear separation between work and personal obligations. Leave your duty post without justification, and you risk losing your job. There are no sentiments. There is a time for everything.
A working system does not reward violence—it crushes it. It does not grant amnesty to terrorists and bandits who have shed innocent blood, only to “rehabilitate” and quietly recycle them into the very security architecture they once attacked. In Nigeria today, even senior military officers are not spared. Brigadier Generals such as Dzarma Zirkusu, Oseni Braimah, and Ibrahim M. Alkali have been killed in the line of duty by Boko Haram and ISWAP fighters. These are not isolated incidents—they are stark reminders of a conflict that continues to claim the lives of those sworn to defend the nation.
Civilians are left to languish in IDP camps. Children are orphaned. Wives are widowed. Communities are destroyed. Yet, in a troubling twist, those responsible for this devastation are sometimes treated as candidates for reintegration rather than perpetrators of grave crimes. That is not justice—it is a distortion of it.
No serious country normalises such contradictions. In the United Kingdom and the United States, systems are designed to deter and decisively punish acts of terror, not negotiate with them or absorb perpetrators into state structures. Terrorism is confronted with clarity and consequence. The example of Osama bin Laden remains instructive—it states that work does not rehabilitate such figures; it eliminates the threat and upholds justice.
Nigeria must make a choice. A system that works protects the innocent, honours the fallen, and holds the guilty accountable. Anything less erodes public trust, weakens national security, and sends a dangerous signal that crime can be negotiated rather than punished.
Equally important is the issue of public accountability. A system that works must hold its leaders to the same standards as its citizens. Public officials—and indeed their families—should rely on the same education and healthcare systems available to the average Nigerian. When those in power have a personal stake in the quality of public services, improvements become inevitable.
Finally, democracy must be strengthened through active citizen participation. Politicians should be held accountable for their promises. Elections should not be reduced to rituals; they must serve as mechanisms for performance evaluation. Leaders who fail to deliver should be voted out. That is the essence of a functioning democracy.
The experience at the Nigerian High Commission in the UK offers a glimpse of what is possible. It shows that with the right leadership, clear processes, and a commitment to integrity, Nigerian institutions can deliver world-class services.
The challenge now is to replicate this success at home across every sphere of national life. This is not about replacing one political party with another. It is about competence, discipline, and a shared commitment to building a Nigeria that works.
