It was the German philosopher Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel who once declared that the state is “the march of God on earth.” In those words, government became something more than a bureaucracy; it was elevated to a near-divine agency of history, the vessel through which rationality unfolds. Martin Luther, in his own turn, described secular authority as “God’s mask” in the world. Both thinkers, though writing centuries ago, imagined rulers as guardians of morality and legitimacy, entrusted to reflect something higher than the whims of ordinary men.
But when that same “mortal god” begins to patronize the very things it publicly condemns, questions inevitably arise. The story of Nigerian content creator Mandy Kiss is illustrative. Announcing with great fanfare her plan to set a Guinness World Record by sleeping with one hundred men in twenty-four hours, she advertised her attempt as if it were a legitimate feat of endurance. The Guinness World Records swiftly disowned the claim, clarifying that it does not monitor such categories. Yet the spectacle sparked outrage, fascination, and heated debates about morality, health, legality, and the blurry line between freedom of expression and crass publicity.
This was hardly the first time sex and sensationalism have been packaged as “records.” Years earlier, adult film star Lisa Sparxxx claimed to have set a sexual endurance record in Poland, though her numbers were exaggerated and Guinness never recognized it. More recently, Bonnie Blue, an OnlyFans creator, boasted of even more staggering figures. These episodes tend to attract harsher scrutiny when women are involved, exposing the double standards and moral policing that still shape society’s reactions. Guinness, for its part, has good reasons to steer clear: records must be verifiable, safe, and socially defensible. Endorsing such exploits would not only be logistically impossible but also reputationally ruinous.
Yet here lies the irony. While Guinness distances itself from sensational sexual records, the Federal Government of Nigeria has now moved in the opposite direction—announcing that sex workers will be taxed under the new fiscal regime beginning January 2026. The chairman of the Presidential Committee on Fiscal Policy and Tax Reforms, Taiwo Oyedele, declared that “the law does not distinguish between legitimate and illegitimate income. What matters is whether you earned money.” In other words, income is income, whether from engineering consultancy, tailoring, or prostitution. As long as it crosses the threshold of ₦800,000 a year, it will be taxed.
On the surface, this appears fair. Everyone who earns contributes. No one is exempt from civic responsibility. But beneath that rhetoric lurks a troubling contradiction: prostitution remains criminalised in many parts of Nigeria. How then does the same government outlaw an activity yet demand revenue from it? Does taxation not imply recognition? Is this the quiet legitimisation of a trade long condemned, or is it simply a desperate state “eating its cake and having it”?
Here, the tension between God and government resurfaces. Religion teaches that the Almighty accepts only what is pure, that the holy cannot be mixed with the impure. But the state, cast as “mortal god,” appears far less scrupulous, willing to sip from any stream that promises revenue, no matter how polluted. If a yahoo boy, a drug baron, or a runs girl pays tax from proceeds society still labels criminal, has the government not effectively joined the circle of beneficiaries of illegality? What then becomes of legitimacy?
The absurdity becomes clearer when extended. Imagine a sex worker arrested and ordered to refund her “illicit” earnings. Could she not argue in court that part of her money had already been handed over to government in taxes? And what of the state that gleefully pocketed it? The paradox is glaring.
Nigeria is not alone in wrestling with this contradiction. The United States famously taxes all income, whether from legal or illegal sources, which is why Al Capone, the gangster who evaded every other crime charge, was finally jailed for tax evasion. In Europe, the story differs: Germany, the Netherlands, and New Zealand have legalized sex work, taxed it openly, and even extended social protections to workers. Their approach, at least, is consistent. Nigeria, by contrast, wants the money without the legitimacy, the tribute without the recognition, the fruit without the tree.
This pattern is not confined to taxation. Consider the string of recent appointments: Fuji legend KWAM 1 tapped as ambassador for airport security etiquette despite earlier misconduct; Comfort Emmanson is another controversial passenger shortlisted for aviation ambassadorial roles after clashing with Ibom Air; and Mandy Kiss herself, in a surreal twist, projected as an ambassador for anti-drug campaigns for (LASKADA) while simultaneously plotting her one-hundred-men escapade. The sacredness of institutions is steadily eroded as economic expediency and publicity stuntmanship trump consistency or moral clarity.
The same contradiction bedevils religion and tradition. Many clerics denounce corrupt politicians on the pulpit but cannot resist their donations when it comes time to build mosques and churches. Traditional rulers confer titles on the wealthy without asking where the wealth came from. In a culture that celebrates revenue above legitimacy, we find ourselves teaching by example that “wrong” is tolerable, even admirable, as long as it pays.
And so, the “God on earth,” once imagined by philosophers as the guardian of purity and order, begins to look less like Hegel’s embodiment of divine reason and more like a market trader haggling for proceeds from every stall, legal or illegal. It is a dangerous descent, for when the state itself abandons the distinction between right and wrong in pursuit of revenue, it loses its moral authority to guide the people.
In the end, one question lingers: if the government itself cannot resist patronizing the proceeds of runs girls, criminals, and dubious trades in the name of taxes, what is left to differentiate the mortal god from the very mortals it claims to govern?
Happy 65th Independence!
Bagudu can be reached at bagudumohammed15197@gmail.com or on 0703 494 3575.
