Living Without Rules in Nigeria

For 35 years, I worked in the Nigerian Foreign Service. I served in countries where life follows rules and standards. I saw places like Australia, Saudi Arabia, Switzerland, and the United States. These countries have different cultures, histories, and politics. Still, they all believe that public order is important. They see regulation as a way to allow freedom, safety, and good civic life.

I also visited many other countries where rules and discipline are common.

Roads are used based on rules. Cities grow according to plans. Buildings are built following codes. Public utilities are maintained properly. Markets operate under supervision. People know what is allowed and what is not. Authorities are expected to act when rules are broken. My experiences shape how I see life in Nigeria, where there are often no rules.

One of the biggest problems in Nigeria is not just poverty, insecurity, or corruption. It is the fact that millions of Nigerians live where the government exists only in name. The Nigerian state is everywhere as an authority, but often absent when it comes to protection. It taxes, arrests, licenses, and regulates selectively. But in everyday life, it often fails to keep order, fairness, and discipline that make life better.

Living without regulations is not real freedom. It is not true enterprise or the natural energy of creative people. It is chaos pretending to be flexibility. It is survival without rules, business without standards, building without planning, transport without order, and markets without protection. It is a world where the strong take advantage of the weak. The connected ignore the law, while ordinary citizens must find ways to survive.

This is how many Nigerians live today. The sad part is that it has become so normal we don’t even see how strange it is. We wake up each day in a society full of noise, disorder, extortion, garbage, unsafe buildings, bad roads, reckless driving, and unfair pricing. What should anger us has become normal. What should be enforced is seen as unavoidable. What the government should fix is endured by the people.

The lack of regulation is clear in our cities. Daily life in urban Nigeria is full of chaos. Streets don’t have sidewalks. Markets spill onto highways. Mechanics park on public roads. Filling stations pop up in unsuitable spots. Buildings go up without proper approvals. Taxi drivers park wherever they want. Drainage systems are blocked with waste. Electricity poles are broken or stolen. Neighborhoods grow without planning. In many places, building happens before the government gets involved. People build first and ask for permits later. Authorities show up after the damage, often just to collect fees or ignore violations. The sign “Stop Work by Order” often means “come and settle with us.”

This lack of regulation affects more than just how things look. It impacts health, safety, and human dignity. A city that does not manage transport wastes people's time. A government that can’t handle drainage exposes citizens to floods and diseases. A society that allows unsafe buildings puts lives at risk. A market without standards hurts honest traders and rewards the deceitful. A road without discipline is dangerous. An economy without consumer protection allows exploitation.

Nigerians now live with disorder every day. They haggle with drivers over fares. They argue with landlords over high rents. They bribe officials for documents that should be given freely. They smile at police at checkpoints. They dispute bills for electricity not provided. They complain in hospitals about lack of medicines and in schools about poor quality. They negotiate prices in markets, deal with touts for access, and worry about safety from criminals. Life becomes a constant struggle against dysfunction.

The heartbreaking part is that this situation forces people to take matters into their own hands in the worst ways. Nigerians find their own water, generate electricity, secure their homes, fix their roads, form vigilante groups, pay for private education, and use private hospitals. Sometimes, people call this resilience. But when resilience goes too far, it becomes abandonment. People should not be praised for surviving what they should not have to endure.

The government cannot celebrate the creativity of people while ignoring the problems that create the need for such creativity. It is not a sign of national pride that citizens buy generators because of power cuts. It is not a sign of entrepreneurship that communities fix roads the government has ignored. It is not civic spirit when people tax themselves for security because state security is absent. These are signs that the government is failing.

Regulation is a key duty of the modern state. It is not just about control.

It is about the government protecting society from harm, exploitation, and disorder. Regulation ensures buildings are safe, food is healthy, medicines are real, roads are usable, schools are good, water is accessible, hospitals are accountable, and markets are fair. Without regulation, society does not become freer. It becomes more dangerous.

Nigeria’s problem is not a lack of laws. We have many laws, judges, and enforcement agencies. The issue is that regulation is weak, selective, and corrupt. Enforcement often looks like a show instead of a system. A demolition might happen today with much fanfare, only for new violations to start tomorrow. A task force might be set up with great publicity, but then it becomes a tool for harassment.

A campaign against fake products may start, but the networks behind them stay strong. A traffic law might be introduced, but enforcement depends on who is driving or what they can pay. This selective enforcement is worse than no enforcement because it erodes public trust. When people see the poor punished while the rich are safe, they lose respect for the law. When weak people’s illegal structures are destroyed but powerful people’s are not, regulation feels like oppression.

When traders are harassed, but importers of bad goods are untouched, enforcement seems empty. When traffic laws are applied only to ordinary people, the law becomes a tool to control the less powerful.

A regulated society needs fairness. It requires rules that apply to everyone, not just those without connections. The Nigerian state must regain the ability to enforce order fairly and consistently. This cannot happen through violence or random actions. It needs awareness, planning, openness, and strong institutions.

Citizens must know the rules and see the government following them. They must trust that enforcement is not random and not just a way to extort money. They have to believe that regulation is for the common good, not just for officials’ interests.

At the core of Nigeria’s regulatory crisis is the lack of consequences. Too many people do wrong and face no punishment. Contractors leave projects unfinished and come back for more. Public officials misuse their positions and get rewarded. Builders break rules and get retroactive approvals. Transporters endanger lives and keep running their businesses. Schools do not meet standards but stay open. Hospitals ignore care standards and escape scrutiny. Traders sell fake products and return to the market. Agencies fail their duties but still get funds.

In this society, wrongdoing feels normal because penalties are rare.

The lack of consequences creates a culture of impunity. Impunity slowly becomes part of our national character. Citizens start to think that rules are for fools. Those who follow the law look naïve. Those who cheat seem smart. Those who resist corruption are seen as impractical. Those who demand standards are called difficult. This is how societies collapse from within, through the slow acceptance of disorder.

But Nigerians are not naturally disorganized. The same Nigerians who respect traffic rules abroad and queue properly at foreign airports often behave differently at home because of their environment. This shows that the problem is not cultural. It is about institutions. People respond to incentives, consequences, and systems. Where the system rewards order, people adjust. Where it rewards impunity, people adapt.

This is why leadership is crucial. A state that wants to regulate society must first regulate itself. The government cannot expect order from citizens while officials act carelessly. It cannot preach discipline while its convoys break traffic rules. It cannot condemn illegal buildings while powerful people protect violators. It cannot ask citizens to pay taxes while officials steal public funds. It cannot demand compliance while its own agencies contradict each other. The state must first model the order it wants.

Restoring a regulated environment in Nigeria needs a new way of governing. Regulation should not be seen as punishment but as protection for the people. Urban planning must be revived. Building control must be made professional. Consumer protection must be improved. Transport systems must be restructured. Environmental laws must be enforced. Public health standards must be checked. Markets and slaughterhouses must be supervised. Digital services, financial platforms, electricity supply, telecommunications, education, health, housing, and food systems must all have proper oversight.

But regulation must also be kind. The poor should not suffer for the failures of planning. Informal traders, transport workers, and small businesses should not be treated as enemies. Many of them occupy illegal spaces because the government did not provide proper alternatives. So, enforcement must come with relocation, support, and social protection. Order should not mean cruelty. Discipline should not mean dispossession. Reform should not mean punishing the weak while sparing the strong.

Nigeria needs a government that is firm but not oppressive. It should be fair but not arbitrary. It should be orderly without being insensitive. Regulation should not be a way to extort money, and development should not harm people. Citizens must feel the state not just as a tax collector or a policeman, but as a planner and protector. Living in a place without rules means constant tension and uncertainty. You never know if the road will be okay, if the medicine is real, if the building is safe, if the food is good, if the school is credible, if the hospital is accountable, if the market is fair, if the police will help, or if the government will respond.

No nation can prosper on such unstable ground. No economy can grow with disorder as the norm. No democracy can thrive when citizens face the state mainly with frustration. The Nigerian state must remember its basic duty: to make society livable. This is not just an abstract responsibility. It is the foundation of being a citizen. A state that cannot organize public life cannot earn loyalty. A government that cannot enforce order fairly cannot inspire confidence. A nation that accepts disorder will eventually face decay and underdevelopment.

Nigeria has energy, talent, honesty, ambition, and creativity. What it lacks is a disciplined environment for these qualities to grow. The government’s job is not to stifle society, but to improve public life through fairness, standards, planning, and consequences. Until this is done, Nigerians will continue to live not as fully protected citizens, but as survivors in a chaotic space where each day is a challenge, every right must be fought for, and every simple act of living is a battle against disorder. In the end, Nigeria must avoid becoming like the chaotic world that the movie "Mad Max" made unforgettable.