The path to nation-building is never straight or painted bright—it’s always treacherous, dirty, and dark.  Notwithstanding, the challenge for humans is to reconstitute its space to meet his existence continually.  The questions—if Nigeria should and could restructure are fundamentally flawed.  The right set of questions ought to be what and how Nigeria should restructure, considering her current existence and challenges.  The questions ought to be the political, social, and economic costs of restructuring.  We have failed to make each of these inquiries, and even when we ask these questions, we’re politically inadequate and intellectually unequipped for answers.

The good book tells us that Adam and Eve found a way to reconstitute and re-define their existence inside the Garden of Eden, even if incompatible with the nudist colony that the Garden envisaged—they covered up their nudity and forever buried truth.  Whether to restructure or not shouldn’t be a question; we must continually restructure and re-negotiate our national existence.  The current #EndSars, a demand by our youths, shouldn’t confront us as an aberration, just as the shenanigans or fervor beneath the various movements under IPOB, Arewa group, Afenifere, Boko Haram, and other outside groups ought to confront us as abnormal.  These passions are indications of fracture in our co-existence, and which, in each case, are the basis for restructuring or the negotiability of our national existence.

Another reason to restructure our existence is the disproportionate percentage of our national budget and asset that our political system consumes.  The ineffectiveness of our systems, as evidenced by shortages of basic infrastructure and social amenities, the number of school shutdowns, and others, each constitute bases to reassess our national existence.

Having said, the argument that restructuring means different things to different people is inarticulate, at best.  Any commentator should contribute his or her idea to the debate and without having to wait for permission—what does restructuring mean to each is a right of the citizenry.  I don’t think any individual Nigerian qualifies to provide a comprehensive definition of restructuring Nigeria.  Even if the definition is to break the country up, you still owe the rest of us your reasons.  The right approach is to suggest what restructuring means to you.

For the first six years of our existence, the most challenging debate centered on our country’s structure, and for two years after, the military struggled with the same question.  However, the ensuing Civil War and the military’s heavy involvement, with its pyramidal structure, introduced a unitary system as the default.  The various declines in our system, however, have trusted the debate about the Nigeria’s structure into immediacy.  The good part is that along this treacherous road; there are few things we were able to accomplish.  For example, we have given many of the various smaller groups more political visibility; and created more States, and initiated infrastructures in more places than we can manage.

In light of the preceding paragraph, restructuring is for Nigeria to subdivide into geopolitical zones, where each zone becomes a governing layer—regional government, above the currently existing States. The emerging regional governments then become the federating units.  For example, the States in the Southwest, Southeast, Northeast, Northwest, and others could co-exist under each regional government, and without diminishing the qualities or existence of the States.    The next stage is to redistribute the items on the so-called concurrent and exclusive lists.  The objective would be to empower the various regions to develop, and in the process, initiate a competitive environment among the regions.  We could remedy the fear that some regions would be shut out of revenue sharing from oil and the ports through appropriate legislation.

One of the arguments against this approach is that it introduces another layer of governance into the system–the Federal, Regional, and State governments.  For one, it would be impossible to eradicate the existing States, even if many of them are ineffective and economically bankrupt.  The solution to eradicating any extra expenses from the multiple layer would be to structure the relationships between the States and Regional governments.  The advantage, though, is that States could now leverage their power within the Region and eliminate redundancies within the system.

Alternatives to the above include amending the existing constitution.  To re-arrange the items on the exclusive and concurrent lists, give our States additional autonomy and abilities to function independently—enter into bankruptcy, if a State chooses, and decide if to merge functions with a neighboring State or relinquish control to the Federal government.  Among the States’ additional powers would be the creation of an independent judiciary and the enumeration of citizens’ right of action.  Equally, we could modify our current presidential system to a hybrid system, which may incorporate the benefits of parliamentary and presidential systems of government to reduce the cost of governance.

Baseball is an American classic—similar to cricket in most commonwealth countries. In baseball, someone, a pitcher, throws the ball to an opponent—the batter, and the batter is expected to hit the ball. An umpire crouch behind the batter, watches the ball as it crosses the batter’s midpoint. The umpire gives the pitcher a zone that his ball has to cross in other to be considered a strike—a good pitch.   Often, a good pitcher throws a ball close to a 100-mile per hour or curve the ball as it passes through the zone to deceive the batter. As I write, Gorsuch is set to assume his seat as a Justice on the United States Supreme Court. That’s the highest judicial seat in the Country. During his confirmation hearing, Judge Gorsuch told the Senate Judiciary Panel, quoting from the Chief Justice of the same court that, like a baseball umpire, his goal and role is to call the ball in the strike zone.

Yes, that’s the role of a judge—to call the ball when it crosses the strike zone! What Gorsuch failed to say and, which those voting against his nomination understood, is that judges equally define those strike zones. The strike zones in human affairs are not abstract, they are organic, and like baseball, it changes based on many human factors. Two of the foremost researchers on how humans make decisions—two of the foremost that have studied how humans call the strike zones, Amos Tversky and Nobel Prize winner, Kahneman, told us how frivolous the very best of us call those strike zones or, make decisions. Jonathan Haidt wrote his most famous book titled, The Righteous Mind, to explain how instincts or, our passion, predominates over our reasoning. Scottish philosopher, David Hume, had taken a stab at how humans made decisions and concluded that reason is merely the “slave of the passions.”

There is nothing scientific or mathematical in how humans reach conclusions or judgments. First, we come to an instinctual or emotional conclusion, and when tasked, search for reasons to support our instincts. On a bright, sunny day, a beautiful girl passes by, our instincts turn into desire, and at the first opportunity, start the construction of how she should become a life partner. Even, on occasions, we dismiss any attempt to justify our instinctual conclusion, and dismissively say, “…that’s it, I don’t care.” There’s nothing special or different in how judges or lawyers reach conclusions. Legal practice and life experiences have established few parameters that underlie the basis of our professional instincts. Like others, lawyers and judges construct reasons to support those instincts. Seldom, the follies of our instincts become too obvious.

That, a rich or influential man does not go to prison is a well-established cultural paradigm—I get that! What I object to is an argument that crime is either poor or un-influential. I get it that the grandson of Justice Sir Adetokunbo Ademola, whom himself, is a judge of the Federal Court in Abuja, ought not to go to prison; what I don’t get is any argument that what Judge Ademola did was innocent and not criminal.

What insults decent senses is the argument that the prosecution failed to prove its case against Judge Ademola. No, the prosecution did not; the judge failed to understand the case before him! For one, the higher legal burden of proof—the proof beyond a reasonable doubt is an organic rather than a mechanical or scientific construct. It grows and shrinks depending on the judge. Like baseball strike zones, it depends on the batter and the umpires. Two, the standard of proof was not the appropriate burden that the prosecution carries at the Summary judgment stage. To summarily dismiss a case for the reason that the prosecution failed to prove a case beyond the reasonable doubt is a misunderstanding of the legal concept. At a summary level, a judge is restricted to considering if there’s any reason for judgment in favor of the prosecution, and this is a much limited burden. Judge Okeke failed in this regard!

Of a greater injustice is the fact that the judge required the prosecution to jump over an impossible evidentiary height. Judge Okeke required EFCC to point to a decision of Judge Ademola that the #30million that Attorney Agi gave to him tainted. The fact is that judicial decisions, either right or wrong, hangs upon a reasoning—and, such reasoning, often, was a basis for the case in court in the first instance. It’s axiomatic that litigants on the losing side of a judge’s decision, can counterintuitively point to his or her original argument as evidence. If, for example, Judge Ademola called a dog a pig because he received money to make the decision, it will still, nevertheless, be within the judicial discretion of Judge Ademola.

Of the worst insult is Judge Okeke’s argument that the prosecution failed to prove that Judge Ademola received the #30million deposited into his wife’s account. In short, Judge Okeke refused to acknowledge, what in ordinary human experiences, is described as a marital asset. Judge Okeke cast out the first marital oath between Judge Ademola and his wife—the oath that joins both at the hip—that turns their separate possessions into a combined one.

Judge Okeke isn’t alone—the entire Nigeria Bar appears to be in toe with him. Reading from many of our so-called Senior Advocate of Nigeria and others within the legal community, arguing that Judge Okeke merely applied the law. No, he did not! In addition to applying the law incorrectly, he made his law up! He misapplied the burden of proof and created his own legal elements, both of which are consequential.

The fact is that each member of the Bar and the Bench owes more than a legal obligation to the law—each owes both moral and fiduciary duties to the great profession, and each member of the legal profession betrays the great profession. Again, strike zones in baseball change depending on the height of the batter and the person of the umpire. To argue that the burden the prosecution carries remain the same in all circumstances is a disservice to the great profession. Jesus Christ could have condemned the prostitute as the Judaic law demanded, and abandoned the identities of the accusers of the poor woman. He could have!—after all, he would have called the ball in the strike zones too, but He knew better! King Solomon could have called the ball in the strike zone and invoked the law of contract to sever the body of the poor, little boy into two before the warring mothers.

The legal profession takes a flight of fantasy, criticizing the executive and legislature for corruption and the failures of our polity. Laws are more than the substantive letters in the books—it includes the procedures in courts, and of greater input is the interpretation of the substantive letters. In the most celebrated case in the American jurisprudence, Madison v. Marbury, the US president in 1790 argued that his power under the constitution was broad. And, President Jefferson appeared to be correct under the Constitution and the court could not change the letters of the constitution. Notwithstanding, the court told the president that his power might be as broad, but that the court still retained the duty to interpret the broadness, and explicitly told him that he was wrong. That law cemented the role of the courts and the principles of separation of powers in the US, and for all times. These were judges that had the visceral and intellectual understanding of what was at stake. Judge Okeke does not, and he is significantly diminshed!

The court makes law as part of its legal, moral, and fiduciary duties!

Months before the 2015 Presidential election, Buhari was scorned as an ex-dictator and unapologetic Islamist. Many of us, pseudo-journalists, flooded the social media arguing against the presidency of a dangerous man. The revered Wole Shoyinka wrote a blistering piece cataloging the misdeeds of Buhari’s past administration and his subsequent involvement in the Nigerian space.

That was before Alamieyeseigha was rumored and announced to be a recipient of Nigeria’s highest award at the Centenary celebration of England annexing the Southern and Northern Nigeria. Before Patience Jonathan—yes, the wife of the President, hijacked our private and institutional spaces, and rather than empathy for the mothers of Chibok girls, she derided them; before before Michelle Obama was forced to lead the campaign to force our government out of silence when hundreds of our beautiful daughters were kidnapped. Before it became clear that the PhD Stella Oduah claimed was fake. Before Lamido Sanusi told us of possible financial impropriety involving the NNPC, Diezani Alison-Madueke, and others, and in spite, Jonathan administration attempted to silence the story to oblivion. The list of ‘befores’ that predated our collective desire to boot Jonathan out of the presidency is inexhaustible. It became clear that Nigerians needed a break from the past—that our Union was being threatened and in comatose.

How do we break from the past and where do we head were two rational questions, but each of the inquiries proved beyond the paygrades of even the more accomplished among us. The political climate was rife with a Northern presidency—but, who among the known possibilities could we rally behind. Atiku, a well-known thief and fugitive from US’ justice, clamored for our supports, as well as others less known. Tinubu, a Southerner, with a well-established ambition to hijack the national purse and empty the darn thing, rallied around his cabal of political charlatans to re-present Buhari to us. Ordinarily, Nigerians would have seen through the charade, but our urgent desire to do away with Jonathan proved too murky for us to see through.

And, that was how Buhari stole our future. He became our hopes in the absence of any evidence to lead us through the smog. All the liabilities that made Buhari toxic didn’t disappear—the retroactive application of capital punishment didn’t disappear; the 52 suitcases that cleared through our Customs without inspection were not returned; we didn’t request any additional information against Buhari’s political naivety that scuttled any economic recovery in 1983; so many questions that hanged over Mr. Buhari. Rather, in Buhari, we began to see a titan against corruption—which has rightly eaten us to comatose; we began to see a tenacious fighter—taught through experience and personal discipline. In short, we built ourselves into a cult of Buharist—perpetuating a messiah to lead us through the fight of Armageddon. Almost two years into his administration, we’re not only stuck in Armageddon, but Buhari also appears to have absconded and dashed our hopes.

How do you tell Nigerians to look inward during this period of economic and social upheavals when at the first opportunity to bail out, you bailed out! How do you reinforce that Nigerians are capable when you rather trust your life to a foreign doctor at a foreign clinic than Nigerian trained professionals? Yes, we may not be able to solve your particular kind of problems, but that is how millions of us live our lives. I couldn’t begrudge you for fighting for your life, I could only have hoped that you would have used your fight for a higher and greater goods.

In almost two years of your administration, Nigerians are reduced to peddle rumors of your administration’s fights against corruption; we hardly have any real and direct news from you. When billions of money are not discovered in a house, we hear the news that some other individuals have returned money back into government’s coffer. Again, it is good if some rogues return the money, but is it true? And even, if it is true, the larger questions of our courts’ systems and the efficiencies of our prosecutorial teams are yet to be addressed in any meaningful way. While fighting corruption was central to you allure, Nigerians have other problems, and your administration has failed.

In 2012, the world witnessed Egypt’s Arab Spring.  Young men and women matched at the Tahrir Square to protest the economic and social injustices under the Mubarak’s regime.  The revolutionary fervor rented the air while the world watched.  It quickly became clear to Mubarak that the military was not going to kill the revolution; he had to abdicate the throne in shame.  The interim government that came to power acceded to the demands of the revolution for a free and fair election; it quickly scheduled and supervised the election.  The Moslem Brotherhood won the election.

Revolutions take time, energy and much more!  As Michel de Montaigne wrote, “the fruits of public commotion are seldom enjoyed by him who was the first mover; he only beats the water for another’s net.” Chris Hedges noted that revolutions can be crushed by force, or hijacked by individuals or other movements that betray the revolution.  The revolution against Pharaoh that was started by Moses was completed by Joshua after more than 40 years in the wilderness.  The men and women that threw Mubarak out of office did not match for the theocratic bend of the Moslem Brotherhood.

Months before the election in Nigeria, many of us turned to the social media as we never did before to campaign for change; friendship was defined along political lines.  Many of us that never participated in partisan politics or belong to a political party matched for a political party and remitted money to the account of our favored candidate I Buhari.  In the end, we achieved a feat that had never been attained in Nigeria or even anywhere in Africa before—we changed government from one party to another and without a spill of blood.  Days after the Presidential election, after it became crystal clear that Buhari won, the excitement of our successful revolution, so we thought, rented the air.  Many of us expected the return to the Garden of Eden—the rebirth of a modern Nigeria where corruption and sycophancy would become a feature of the museum.

Little did we remember to protect our hard earned victory or, that revolution can, at times, be hijacked by individuals.  If we were mesmerized beyond any real understanding of the depiction of Snowball and Napoleon by George Orwell’s “Animal Farm.,” we, at least, could have learnt one or two lessons from the trio of Lenin, Trotsky and Stalin.  We ought not to be surprised by Saraki, Tinubu, Dogara or Atiku.